.

Prove your worth. Veelas are temperamental by nature and there will be fights in your relationship, do not be deterred. If they leave, follow.

Harry threw the small book across the room, satisfied when it hit the wall and fell to the ground with a small thump before he turned his back to the door. It had been a week since Malfoy had left and Harry was sure he had read over that sentence more than a hundred times by now.

The book made it seem so easy to just go to Malfoy but he knew it wasn't that easy. Malfoy was a whole different type of ugly when angered and Harry was sure he was royally pissed.

He had done nothing but lay in bed for the last seven days, thinking and mulling his options. On one hand, he could forget everything and move on with his life; he had tried (and failed) to get Malfoy but the git was so damn difficult.

While on the other hand, he could continue to pursue him and break through his icy heart. Harry wasn't quite sure how successful that would be with how they started off their relationship.

He still couldn't wrap around the thought that he had sex with Malfoy and he had no memory of it. Harry was convinced that it was Malfoy's fault—maybe, his allure or something. No matter what Hermione said, it had to be Malfoy's fault.

It couldn't be his fault, could it? He was trying, truly he was. He wanted this to work out with Malfoy, to put away their past and move on to something better. But it seemed they couldn't move past their rivalry; their past. It was holding them back; at least, it was holding Malfoy back.

He shifted a little when he heard the door open slightly and he scowled, "Hermione, I told you, I don't want to be disturbed."

"Hi, Harry."

Harry turned around quickly with wide eyes, his mouth gaped open in surprise at who stood at his bedroom door. "G-Ginny?"

Ginny smiled a bit hesitantly as she gave him a small wave. "In the flesh."

He shook his head in amazement, he didn't expect his ex-girlfriend to even want to be near him, let alone see him anytime in the near future. They had broken their relationship off in a mutual decision and he still loved her as a little sister but it was still so fresh and, quite frankly, embarrassing. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in the States."

Ginny gave him a flat look, "My brother is your best friend, did you really think that he could keep his fat mouth closed? " She paused before she added, "Plus, I read the Daily Prophet."

Harry groaned, burying his head into the pillow as he felt the bed dip and Ginny sat beside him. "Of course."

"So," He lifted his head up to catch her smirking at him. "Malfoy, huh?" His gut lurched and all he wanted to do was curl up into a small ball.

"If you came all the way from the States to laugh at me, you could've done it over the Floo." Harry warned, glaring at her.

"No, no, it's not that." Ginny paused, her eyebrows creasing in thought. "I suppose if you could choose from any bloke, it would be Malfoy. He isn't bad looking, actually."

"He's gorgeous," Harry sighed, leaning against the pillow. He looked at her in horror when he realized he was fawning over Malfoy like he was some school girl. "Wait, what am I saying? Why are you here, Ginny?"

Ginny sighed, pushing her bangs from her eyes before she replied, "Isn't it obvious? Ron thought you would listen to me since you're hiding from the world in here." She looked around the room with a grimace. "I see you're still messy as ever."

"I'm not hidin' from anyone." Harry mumbled with a frown.

Ginny rolled her eyes before she pointed out, "You look like shit."

"I know," Harry groaned rolling over to her. He rubbed the stubbles that had formed in the week he hadn't shaven. "Ginny, I don't know what it is about Malfoy that making me feel this way. I had no will to do anything the last week. I've been miserable." Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Malfoy's a prat and horrible but I can't help but be drawn to him."

Ginny gave him a knowing look, "Oh, I see."

"See what? Tell me, Ginny." Harry asked desperately. "If I don't figure this thing out, I'll explode."

Ginny laughed, patting his head. "You'll have to figure it out by yourself, Harry, or else it wouldn't be as fun to watch."

Harry gave her a horrified look, "Some ex you are."

Ginny chortled, giving him a disbelieving look and a nudge. "Like you're any better."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Harry declared.

"I'm talking about how you went gay on me at the last minute," Ginny accused with a bit of humor. "I suppose you planned it all along."

"I would never!" Harry exclaimed with wide eyes.

"Harry, we all know you have commitment issues." Ginny replied with a more serious and hurt tone.

Harry blinked at that, the mood had changed from playful to serious so quickly, Harry felt as if he was suffocating. He had never thought of it that way and he could now see it from Ginny's angle; he had broken it off with her twice before they'd finally called it quits.

Could it be his fault that his nonexistent relationship with Malfoy was at a standstill? Could he be unintentionally stopping them from moving forward? It never occurred to him but it seemed as if it was the truth.

"Tell me, was it my breast or my vagina that turned you off?" Ginny went on crudely. "Or was it the thought of starting a family with me that made you call it quits."

Harry gave her a startled look, almost not believing what she was saying. "What? Ginny that isn't it at all." He snapped at her. "It was more the fact that I couldn't get it up for shit when we were bloody having sex."

"There are potency potions, y'know?" Ginny huffed, crossing her arms.

"Not even Viagra could bring me up to battle!" Harry almost shouted, they had this argument each time they'd seen each other. He knew he had hurt her—badly—but he knew his sexuality was out of his control, he couldn't control these types of things not even with magic.

"It's more than that and you know it!" Ginny accused with a sharp tone. "It was only convenient that you actually did prefer cocks but still—it hurts."

"Ginny," Harry warned, he didn't want to get into this with her especially since he was dealing with his own problems with Malfoy.

"It's true!" Ginny exclaimed. "I thought it would be easier but it isn't, I still have feelings for you, Harry, and it hurts to know that you will never see me in that way."

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He truly was he had never wanted to hurt her. He so desperately wished he would feel the same for her but he didn't, he didn't think he ever had.

"It's fine, Harry. I'm okay, this isn't about me." She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "I understand that you don't like me like I like you and I just have to accept that...no matter how hard it is to." She took a deep breath, gathering herself together. "Now, let's talk about your commitment issues."

He couldn't help but admire that aspect about her, the way she could brush off anything—p even her own feelings—to help him, to make him happy. He couldn't wrap his mind around the thought that she loved him so much that she would let him go so he could be happy with someone else; it made him respect her even more.

"Excuse me," He looked at her in astonishment. "I don't have commitment issues."

Ginny sighed in exasperation, "Harry, you have a fear of getting hurt. You love so hard and so deeply but, yet, you can never fully emerge yourself into a relationship even after Voldemort and the war—why is that?"

Harry looked stricken at her words, it stung to hear them said aloud and he knew deep within himself that what she was saying was all true. "I don't know." He replied, honestly.

He had always blamed someone else for his misgivings with relationships; with Cho, he had blamed Cedric and with Ginny, it was the war and his own sexuality. Even with Malfoy he had blamed the blond's attitude for their failing attempt at a relationship.

But could it be that they were compatible but Harry wasn't really trying? He had let the blond go so quickly, not even thinking twice when he stayed in his room for a week and never had the urge to contact Malfoy.

Was he truly afraid of what might happen if they had truly worked out? Could he have tried harder, could Malfoy have tried harder?

Harry looked up at Ginny with wide eyes. "I couldn't have—"

"Harry, have you ever called Malfoy by his first name?" Ginny interrupted him with a soft voice.

"Well, no, but he seems to be taken on calling me 'Potter' as well." Harry defended himself, albeit weakly.

"That isn't a good enough excuse, Harry." Ginny made a noise of frustration. "You're so thick headed but I suppose that's why you're so damn likeable in the first place."

Harry blinked at her, his heart clenching in guilt. "Ginny, I'm-"

"No need, Harry." She gave him a bitter but sad smile. "I rather see you happy with someone else than be miserable with me."

"I wasn't miserable with you," Harry protested immediately. "Any one would be lucky to have you."

"Thank you," She gave him a smile. "I'm glad it wasn't that I was an ugly troll that made you pitch for the other team."

Harry shook his head in amusement, before he sobered up again. "Do you think I'm foolish for trying to court Malfoy?"

"Insane, maybe," She began before she added, "But foolish, of course not. You and Malfoy always had that friction going on and I suppose it was really sexual tension that made you two fight like cats and dogs."

"You think so? Because," He fiddled with the hem of the sheets. "I think I might really like him."

"Oh?" Ginny seemed interested in this piece of information. "You must be some type of masochist, Harry."

"I know," He groaned almost as if he was in pain. "But I can't help but like him and think about him, merlin, what the heck is wrong with me?" It was insane, it seemed the longer he had stayed away from Malfoy the more he wanted him. Harry couldn't wrap his mind around that paradox just yet.

Ginny bit her lip, trying to fight off a smile. "Just follow your heart, Harry, that's what you do best."

Follow his heart? That was easier said than done. His heart didn't know what it wanted and frankly Harry would much rather listen to his brain that was telling him to run far away from Malfoy before he bit his head off.

"I want him, Ginny." Harry confessed, miserably, after a few minutes of silence.

"If you wanted him so much, then…why did you let him get away?" Ginny asked him, tilting her head to the side.

Harry stayed silent as he didn't know the answer; his eyes were trained to the bed sheets and unfocused. He didn't say a word as Ginny stood and left the bedroom, he didn't even flinch as the door slammed shut, he could only stare at the bed sheets for what seemed like hours mulling over her words.

. . . .

Hermione sighed tiredly as she added yet another book to her ever growing pile of information pertaining to creatures. Harry should be grateful for a friend such as her who would go to great length to help him out. It also gave Hermione the chance to research something that had caught her eyes the last time she had saw the saviour. There was just something in what Harry had explained to her about his attraction to Malfoy that made alarms go off in her head. Flourish and Blotts had never failed before and it certainly wouldn't now.

She wasn't a fool; alcohol couldn't have possibly impaired the two so much that they didn't remember anything after a single touch. No, it was far deeper than that. She knew it. And she knew that Harry brooding in his room for a week wouldn't help anything.

"Hermione?" She froze as a deep voice called out her name, she knew that voice, and she knew that accent. She spun around and gaped, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of the tall, solemn looking man in front of her.

"Viktor?"

Viktor smiled softly at her and she chastised her heart for quickening as his dimple showed as his smile widened, "Hello, Hermione."

"Wow, this is quite a surprise," She let out a nervous laugh, taking a step forward, "How have you been?"

"Fine and you, Hermione?" She almost giggled at the way he slowed down at her name, taking his time to pronounce it correctly. It almost felt as nostalgic as being called Herm-own-ninny.

"I've been well," She looked him over, he was relatively the same. The same thick, dark eyebrows, tall and thin with a solemn expression that made him look older than his years. "Your English has gotten better." she noted quietly, his once thick accent was quite diminished leaving only a tinge of it behind.

He smiled at her and blood rushed to her cheeks once again. "Lessons."

"Oh, that's wonderful." She praised and he gave her another smile.

"Thank you," Viktor looked at her for a moment before he added, "You have gotten prettier."

Her cheeks reddened once again and she ducked her head to hide it as she replied, "Thank you, Viktor." She glanced at him. "What are you doing in Britain, anyways?"

He paused, taking his time to think of an response before he said, shortly, "Quidditch."

Hermione shook her head, it would always be the same for him; his first love would always be Quidditch. "I see, well, it was great seeing you again but I really have to go."

She turned to leave but paused when his hand took a hold of her wrist. "Wait, Hermione?"

She looked at him curiously, tilting her head to the side. "What is it, Viktor?"

"I'm here for a month; vould you like to go eat sometimes?" His accent thickened at his nervousness and her heart quickened as his dark eyes looked at her.

"I—well," She bit her lip in contemplation, Ron wouldn't like it, not one bit but Viktor was only an old friend and nothing more. "Okay, fine, I will." She gave him a once over before she added, "As friends, of course."

Viktor wasn't deterred by that as he gave her a wide grin before nodding and he said, "I will owl you."

She nodded in agreement as she watched him go before she turned back to the shelf willing her heart to slow and the blush on her cheek to go away. 'I love Ron' she repeated in her head almost like a mantra and she wasn't sure if she was trying to memorize the fact or convince herself of its validity.

. . . .

Harry felt a sense of trepidation as he stared up at the Malfoy manor. He shook his head in disappointment as the thoughts of running entered his mind. Honestly, what kind of Gryffindor was he? A bloody cowardly one, that's what.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he raised his shaking fist to knock on the door. Sweat slid down his forehead as anxiety clenched tightly in his stomach, his heart skipping a beat when the door opened.

Narcissa sneered at him and before he could say anything, the door was slammed in his face.

"Well, that went well." He said, irritably, his lips thinned in determination as he pounded on the door loudly, hoping that someone—anyone—would answer.

"I'm sorry, dammit!" He shouted at the door in hopes that someone would hear him. "Please, let me just talk to Malfoy! For a second, even a fraction of that." He kicked the door in frustration and immediately cursed when pain shot through his foot; he hobbled on one foot while he nursed the other in his hands refraining from howling in pain.

This was pointless; there was no way he could get past Narcissa Malfoy. When it came to her son, she was like a steel wall that was unmovable. He just wanted to have a chance to straighten things out with Malfoy; to make sure the git wasn't pregnant with his child!

He froze when the door opened once again and an irate Mrs Malfoy stepped out, "What do you want, Potter?"

"I just want to talk to Malfoy, please." Harry took a step forward, momentarily forgetting about his injury. "Please, let me have a chance."

"You had your chance, Potter," She turned away from him and Harry felt as if his chance was slipping from him. "Now, leave this instance."

"You owe me," Harry said, softly. He knew he had caught her attention when her back stiffened. "I saved your family after the war; you owe me a life debt."

She stood stiffly, not moving and barely breathing and if Harry didn't know better he'd thought she had died at that very moment.

"He's in this bedroom; second floor, third door to the right," She whipped around and Harry had to take a step back at the fierce look on her face. "You have ten minutes, Potter."

Harry could've kissed her at that moment, he thanked her profusely as he moved past her and ran up the stair, his heart picked up speed as he neared the third door and he took a deep breath as he turned the knob and opened the door.

He stepped in and noted with surprise the warm blues and purples that covered the room, it was the far cry from the green and silver Harry had expected from a boy who had grown up with Slytherins and was a Slytherin himself.

"Mother, please, I don't want to be disturbed." Malfoy said, quietly, and he almost sounded tired and in—pain?

"I'm not your mother." Harry said, softly, and Malfoy whipped his head around and his eyes darkened with fury and a sneer formed on his lips.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked he looked around for a moment before he settled on the clock that sat on his bedside table. He picked it up and chugged it at Harry, "Get out!"

Harry only had time to widen his eyes before he ducked to avoid getting hit by the flying apparatus. "What's your problem?! I'm trying to fix this!" His question seemed to only anger the blond even more.

"Fall into a ditch and break your fucking neck, Potter!" Malfoy shouted, vehemently, picking up a vase to throw at him.

"Well, that's pleasant." Harry muttered dodging again as the vase connected with the wall behind him, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces. "Malfoy, stop, already!"

"No!" Malfoy snapped back, he threw his pillow at Harry this time. "What the hell did you do to me, Potter?!"

Harry looked at him baffled, "I didn't do anything to you!" He huffed, crossing his arms. "I don't remember anything either."

This seemed to calm Malfoy down a fraction as his body slumped down to the bed and he stared at Harry in disbelief. "You mean you didn't—"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Are you—?" He trailed off afraid to anger Malfoy again but the blond didn't seem offended by the half question.

"No," He looked down with a frown. "I'm not."

Harry let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, relief flooding through him along with a twinge of disappointment that left him reeling in shock. Why was he so disappointed that Malfoy wasn't carrying his child?

"Good," He said, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's good."

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy said, tiredly, his back to Harry. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Seriously, Malfoy," Harry asked, incredulously. "I don't get you! You think I wanted to have sex with you on the first date?!"

This caused Malfoy to turn to him in anger, his hands clenched in fist and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Like I would ever willingly want to have sex with you!"

Harry made a noise of frustration and took a step forward to Malfoy, the blond watched him come closer with wary eyes. "Why is it so hard for you to let me in?"

Malfoy stared at him in surprise, "What are you talking about?" He took a step back when Harry came forward, reaching him in five long strides. Their chests touched as Harry stared at him and at this proximity he could smell Malfoy's cologne and the blue specks in Malfoy's gray eyes.

"Just give me a chance," Harry said with a frown. "Why can't you trust me?"

"You've never given me any reason to trust you, Potter." Malfoy shot back. "You don't just wake up one day and everything that happened is forgotten." He gave him a shove. "Real life doesn't work like that."

"Then, give me a chance!" Harry said, again, he grabbed Malfoy's shoulders to keep him from moving away. "I don't know how but I will show you I'm genuine, I want to prove my worth to you. I want this to work, dammit!" He growled, shaking slightly.

"Well, you fucked me, left me alone for a full week and now expect forgiveness for something that was your fault," Malfoy sneered at him and Harry felt the anger boil inside his vein at his words. "You've never given me reason to trust you, let alone like you!"

Later on he would blame it on the heat of the moment and irrationality but at that moment he didn't care. Harry didn't say a word in his defense. Instead, he pulled Malfoy in for a rough kiss, the first kiss he could remember having with Malfoy. Their teeth clashed and tongues mingled as they fought for dominance. Harry felt a shock rush through him at the exhilarating feeling kissing Malfoy gave him.

'Mine' Harry couldn't help but think as his hands wrapped around Malfoy's waist. He didn't know for the life of him why he wanted to let out an animalistic growl as Malfoy let out a soft moan. 'He's all mine.'

Then, as if a fog had formed in his mind, everything went blank.

. . . .

Harry woke up with a pounding head, he groaned as he sat up, a sense of déjà vu hitting him harshly as his head felt like it would explode at any moment. He groaned even louder when he realized that he was naked.

"Just what the hell is going on?" Harry muttered, frustrated, his fist hitting the mattress as his eyes settled on the naked Malfoy that slept peacefully next to him. This was more than a mere coincidence and Harry wouldn't run this time. So, he settled on the bed and waited for Malfoy to wake.

Malfoy would not be happy, to say the least.

Author's Note: Oh, Harry, what have you gotten yourself into? And how you guys liked the change of scene to Hermione and Viktor (something brewing there? hmmm) I realized that I usually stick to one POV throughout the story so I wanted to play with other POVs as well, so tell me if it works with the story or not. Also, thank you all for the support on this story! (60+ followers?!) and I hope you continue to enjoy it.