Chapter 8: The Fight, the Snog & the Apology

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione, Ron, Quidditch, Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, London, England, the world… Oh, wait; no I don't! Pff! I must be dreaming again; or having a seizure. Oh well.

Beta: Big thanks go out to Draeconin, Lesa, and Sarah Marie Jacobs – you guys are far too patient with me, and far too intelligent!

Author's Note: Oh, my lovely, lovely reviewers. What wonderful people you are. Also, big thanks to all of you who have put me on your favourites list or your author alert – that is just too cool! By the way, I haven't put any Thank Yous in here because someone told me it was annoying to scroll through them all, so instead I plan to send all my lovely reviewers individual emails (if I have access to your email address, that is). Hope you enjoy this chapter (especially the NC-17 link), and you'd better review! Love ya!

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Harry got back from his detention late that night, and Hermione and Ron had already gone to bed. The next morning at breakfast, his friends were all very careful around him, unwilling to disturb the cloud of gloom they were sure was hanging over his head after the news he'd received from Dumbledore the other day.

"You know, it really is an interesting book. It's got an entire section devoted to the myths surrounding Dracula and his origins…" Hermione told them, reaching for the pumpkin juice. She poured herself a glass, and Ron flinched as she picked it up to take a sip. Clearly, he was still a little bit jumpy after the "incident" that had occurred a few days ago.

Harry had filled them in briefly at dinner the previous night about his conversation with Dumbledore. Hermione was sure that he wouldn't want to talk about it anymore, so she was trying her best to keep the breakfast conversation away from any topics relating to Sirius, the Headmaster, death, or disappointing news. It seemed, however, that she was wrong about Harry's wish to avoid the topic.

"You don't think he could be lying, do you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Who, Dracula?" Ron asked, oblivious as usual.

"Dumbledore," Harry clarified, giving Ron an odd look. "But why wouldn't he want me to know? Wouldn't he want to rescue Sirius?"

"You know he would, Harry. It doesn't make sense. Why would he lie?" Hermione pointed out.

"I don't know. There must be a reason." Harry jumped. "In my dream, he told me he wanted to protect me! That could be it! You know what we should do? We should-"

"Harry! Just - just stop, okay?" Hermione pleaded. "This is it. You asked Dumbledore, and he said it was a dream. There's nothing else here."

Harry stared at her. His jaw clenched, and then quivered for a second as he blinked hard. She thought he was about to cry. But Hermione was wrong again.

"If you don't want to help, that's fine. I thought maybe my friends would believe me, but I guess not. I'll just go." Harry rose stiffly, his expression as cold as his voice.

"Harry, don't!" Hermione pulled him back into a seating position. "We're on your side. We are!"

"You are NOT on my side!" Harry insisted angrily. "Ever since the two of you became...became the two of you, you've done nothing but gang up on me every time I have something important to say! You're both being complete tossers, and I'm bloody sick of it!"

"Hey! I didn't even say anything!" Ron said indignantly.

"That's NOT true Harry, and you know it," Hermione insisted.

"Oh, yeah? Come on guys; just admit it. I'm the third wheel!" Harry insisted.

"You're not a third wheel!" Ron sputtered. "You're not a wheel at all! You're the whole bloody car, for Pete's sake!"

"Harry, please; you're not being fair," Hermione said.

"I'M not fair? Oh, I'M not fair?!" Harry screamed, his voice raising an octave, and causing several students to turn around, in order to watch the 'Boy Who Lived' blow a gasket. "How are YOU being fair, Hermione? You won't even listen to me anymore! I might as well not even be here, for all the attention you bother to pay me." He stopped to catch his breath. "You know what? I really DON'T want to be here right now. I'm leaving!" He got up again, and stomped out of the Great Hall before she could stop him.

"Mr Potter, five points from Gryffindor for disrupting breakfast!" Professor McGonagall yelled after him. He ignored her, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Hermione looked over at Ron, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"He's just…really upset right now, Hermione. It's not your fault," Ron said comfortingly.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed tearfully, throwing herself at him, and burying her face in his chest.

"Hey, it's okay," Ron soothed nervously, shooting a frightened plea for help at Seamus, Dean, and Neville, all of whom were sitting across the table.

"It is not okay! Harry's angry, and…I'm such a horrible friend… Can't believe I was so insensitive…" Hermione sniffed, her voice muffled against Ron's cloak.

"You're not insensitive," Ron said awkwardly, and mouthed "Help!" to his friends, who were watching the scene just as uncomfortably.

"Do you…want my handkerchief?" Ron offered helpfully. Hermione raised her head to look up at him, and he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. She dissolved into tears against his robes again.

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco counted the seconds until it would be appropriately inconspicuous to follow Potter out. '10…9…wow, this is taking forever…8…7…Merlin, could this watch go ANY slower?…6…oh, screw this!' Draco thought to himself. He got up from the Slytherin table, muttered an excuse to Blaise, and left the Great Hall as well. It's not as though anyone was going to suddenly come to the conclusion that he and Potter were snogging just from his leaving the hall shortly after the Gryffindor's departure. It was easily brushed off as an uncanny coincidence that was of no relevance whatsoever.

Luna Lovegood looked up from the Ravenclaw table as Malfoy left the Great Hall, and smiled knowingly. 'I bet he and Harry are doing it,' she thought to herself smugly, before returning to her latest edition of the Quibbler.

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"Hey, Potter!" Malfoy shouted after the other boy, having chased him down the corridor. Harry turned around.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, in annoyance. He wanted to be alone right now.

Draco smirked. "Well…" He was in front of Harry in a few graceful strides, claiming his mouth with soft lips, and tugging at the lip in front of him with gentle teeth, taking Harry's breath away with a few clever flicks of his tongue. He pulled back, and grinned slyly. "This is the part where, if we lived in a sappy romance novel, I'd say 'You'."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, because you're a regular Romeo," he said sarcastically.

"If you say so, Juliet," Draco taunted. Harry just glared back at him. "Oh, come on. Just try and pretend I don't turn you on," Draco whispered.

Harry smirked. "Now where's the fun in that?"

Draco grinned again. "You're beginning to talk like me, you know."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Merlin, I hope not."

"Come on," Draco said, and led him a few steps away to a closet door, which he opened, entered, and pulled Harry into, shutting the door behind them.

"You know, this seems oddly familiar," Harry pondered mockingly.

"Shut up," Draco ordered, and pounced. The two boys became a tangled mess of lips, tongues, limbs, and soft moans as they lost themselves in the heat that surrounded them. Finally, the blond lost patience and directed a not so subtle thrust into Harry's groin, who groaned and thrust back.

They had just established a rhythm, when Harry came up with the most glorious form of payback he could have mustered. Unfortunately, it was going to hurt him, as much as Malfoy; but on the other hand, his Gryffindor pride was on the line, here.

"Malfoy?" Harry breathed.

"What?" Draco grunted, currently preoccupied by other things.

"We should…" Harry began.

"We should what?" Draco managed.

"We should get to class," Harry said, straightening up and brushing himself off.

Draco stood there breathing heavily, and staring at him in disbelief.

"We're going to be late," Harry pointed out smoothly. And exiting the closet, he left Draco with a parting smile so self-satisfied, that there was no doubt in Draco's mind that Harry knew exactly what he was doing. The evil bastard.

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Harry sat in Herbology a few minutes later, apart from Hermione and Ron; both of whom were sending him pleading looks for forgiveness. He felt a twinge of regret at Hermione's red eyes, but he was still angry. Angry, and yet quite pleased with himself all at once; not only for telling off his friends, but for showing Malfoy who's boss. One of his finest moments, if he did say so himself. Well, you know - right after having defeated Voldemort those four or so times. Despite the fact that he'd had to disappear into the lavatory to wank off before class, and had therefore been late for Herbology anyway. Oh well, it was worth it; the memory of the expression on Draco's face would amuse him for years to come.

A knock sounded from the greenhouse door, startling Harry out of his thoughts. "Come in!" Professor Sprout called out pleasantly.

To Harry's surprise, the person who stepped through the doorway was none other than Draco Malfoy. He winked at Harry discreetly before addressing Professor Sprout. "Sorry to bother you, Professor, but I'm supposed to tell Mr. Potter that he's wanted in Professor McGonagall's office. It's very urgent. Very urgent," he said, looking meaningfully at Harry as he emphasized his last point.

"Why yes, of course, Mr. Malfoy. Off you go, Mr. Potter. Grab your book bag, dear," Professor Sprout reminded, as Harry made to leave without it. She returned to her lesson as Harry followed Draco out of the room. They walked in silence until they were a good distance from the greenhouse, and there was no chance of being overheard. There, Harry confronted Malfoy.

"Professor McGonagall doesn't want to see me," he guessed easily, wondering what was going through Malfoy's mind at that moment.

"Well…no," Draco admitted. "I lied." Harry gave him a disapproving look. "Hey, I'm evil, remember? That's what we do."

"Quick question, Malfoy," Harry began. "Do you think that dragging me out of class in front of 30 or so students and a professor is a good way to remain discreet?"

Draco shrugged.

"So I've been dragged out of class because…?"

"Because," Draco smiled artificially, "of urgent business."

"And this urgent business is what?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Draco addressed him in a mock-serious tone, "I'm afraid to inform you that not only is your performance dwindling, but your work this morning was not up to standard, and certainly did not meet expectations."

"Oh, I see. Well, that is just dreadful. I will attempt to improve, next time," Harry said, smiling despite himself.

"You'd best do so," Draco said, and shoved Harry up against the wall.

"I didn't realize…there'd be an…evaluation…so soon," Harry laughed, as Draco claimed his lips for a use he deemed much more appropriate. Draco kissed his way along the Gryffindor's jawline to his Adam's apple, and then to the juncture where Harry's neck met his shoulder. Draco nipped at the skin he found there. 'Mine,' he thought fiercely, kneading it between his teeth, and then massaging it with his tongue. 'Mine,' before he moved on to another patch of skin. He stopped himself immediately when he realized his thoughts.

"You can't even survive 20 minutes without me," Harry laughed, as Draco continued to work on his neck. But the Slytherin brought his head up quickly at those words.

"That's not true," Draco insisted, with sudden conviction.

"Oh, really? Well, that clock behind you says it's 9:13, and I last saw you just a few minutes before class. You must have left your classroom around 9:10 to get to the Herbology greenhouse when you did, so you lasted 15 minutes," Harry teased, realizing too late that this wasn't something to be teased about.

"Liar!" Draco accused.

"Now I'm the liar?" Harry asked. He considered the boy in front of him for a moment, who had gone red; whether from rage or embarrassment, Harry couldn't tell. "What are you afraid of?" Harry asked.

"I'm not afraid of anything; least of all you!" Draco insisted, not sure how they'd found themselves on this topic, but wishing desperately that he could get out of it.

Harry nodded slowly. "Right. Well, what is this thing that you're not scared of, then?"

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "What we're doing here, Malfoy. What is it?"

Draco sneered. "Aren't you the typical female. 'Where's this relationship going, Draco?' 'What do we mean to each other, Draco?'" Malfoy mocked in a sing-song voice. "If I didn't have proof that you've got balls, Potter, I'd seriously be doubting their existence right about now."

The Gryffindor flushed, but remained as composed as he could. "If you don't have anything useful to say, then I'll just be going back to Herbology."

Draco stood still, glaring at him stonily.

"Fine." Harry turned to go.

"Wait," Draco said. The brunette faced him again.

"I don't-" Draco began. He stopped. "If we-" Draco tried again. He exhaled in frustration. "I hate you!"

"I hate you, too," The other boy said calmly.

"I don't want to talk about this!" Draco exclaimed. "If we talk about it, then it's this thing that exists. I'd rather just do it, and worry about talking about it later!"

"Very practical," Harry said sarcastically.

The Slytherin sent him a murderous glare.

"What do you want me to say, Potter? You want me to say I like you? I don't. You're an insufferable goodie-two-shoes. You want me to say I like spending time with you? I don't. I hate it, and I spend every single second of every single day torturing myself about it because I can't get it out of my mind. I don't think you're 'something special,' or 'a really great person,' and I DON'T want this to be anything more than it is right now!" Draco ranted, finally stopping to catch his breath.

Harry smiled at him. "I think I can live with that," he said, before pulling the other boy towards him so that they could continue their previous activities. This time, Draco didn't linger at Harry's neck, lowering himself to his knees and smirking up at Harry as he pushed the other boy's robes back.

"Your turn," Draco said with a sly grin. If there's one thing that Draco hated more than anything, it was being indebted to someone else. As far as he was concerned, Potter was currently one up on him. The Slytherin wasn't about to let that hang over his head for another second, which is how he found himself unzipping Potter's trousers as the other boy stood uncertainly above him.

"Malfoy, we're in the middle of a corridor. Anyone could walk by any second!" Harry pointed out somewhat frantically, unsure of how to deal with the boy kneeling before him.

"I know," Draco replied, fiddling with Harry's belt buckle. "It's hot, right?"

"You are completely insane," Harry insisted.

"It's the middle of class, Potter. Who's going to catch us?" Draco asked. "By the way, I'm appalled by the state of your underwear."

The brunette looked down to observe the faded blue boxers he'd pulled on that morning. "They're not that bad!"

"Potter, there's a hole right here," Draco told him, pointing.

Harry flushed. "Can we drop the subject?" he asked in annoyance.

"Buy new underwear," Draco told him in a snotty tone. Harry was about to protest, before the Slytherin complied with his wishes, 'dropping' the subject.

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Colin surveyed the scene in front of him with approval. The small room contained a dozen or so students, all dedicated and hard at work. The temple was really coming along quite nicely; all thanks to his brilliant leadership abilities, of course. Colin had really come into his own after having started the Harry Potter fan club. Having found a band of equally odd followers, he was now much more sure of himself. He made his way through the room, stopping to observe the progress on certain individual projects.

"That's great, Olivia, but let's make it a little bit more orange," he told a pretty girl with braided pigtails. She smiled, and nodded.

He continued, and stood behind some students who were putting the finishing touches on the temple's pièce de résistance. They appeared to be stumped about how to finish it off. Colin pondered this conundrum for a moment. Finally, he snapped his fingers. "How about we use silly putty?"

"Brilliant, Colin!" one boy exclaimed.

"He's got such a mind for this!" another girl said to her friend.

"Colin!" Eugene yelled, running in with a bucket of paint. "We've got a big problem! Someone," he glared meaningfully at the bashful second year beside him, "cast the wrong spell. Now we've got yellow paint, instead of purple."

"I thought it was purple! The spell book said "Primrose" – I thought that was like violet, or something!" the poor second year defended himself earnestly.

Colin patted the second year on the back. "Oh you poor, naive child," he mused.

"Now we don't have any purple paint, and we've got a whole bucket of yellow paint for nothing!" Eugene continued.

"Why are we even using paint?" Ephram, the second year asked.

"Harry grew up in a muggle world. He'll appreciate our authenticity." Eugene told him patronizingly.

"But it's so messy!" Ephram complained.

Colin stared at them. "Can't you just transform the yellow paint into purple paint?"

The two boys in front of him stared back at Colin for a moment, before comprehension dawned on their faces. "Yes!" Eugene said. "Yes, we could do that!"

Colin scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Wait a minute." he said. "I've got a better idea. We'll spell more purple paint, and then paint yellow polka dots on the walls and the floor!"

Eugene's jaw dropped. "Perfect!" he pronounced. "It's going to be even better than before!"

"I know," Colin agreed, "It hardly seems possible."

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After their earlier conversation that day, peace had been temporarily reinstated between Harry and Draco. They worked together almost pleasantly throughout their library detention that night, albeit with one or two short snogging breaks when they could be assured that no one would catch them. They were just about finished for the night.

"So, are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Harry asked conversationally.

"I'm not going with you, Potter," Draco assured him.

"I'm not asking you, Malfoy," Harry replied. "But if you're not going,then I might know of a certain dormitory that will be empty."

The other seeker huffed. "We are not going to hang out in the Gryffindor dormitory."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And may I ask why not?"

"Because," Draco said, "it's gross!"

The Gryffindor let out a chortle. "Are you afraid of getting cooties, Malfoy?"

"We'll snog in the Slytherin dormitories, thank you very much."

"Fine; have it your way," Harry conceded. They cleaned up in silence, and were just exiting the library, before either of them spoke again.

"Ugh, now I have to go have a snog fest with the whore," the blond complained.

Harry turned around sharply. "What whore?" he asked accusingly.

"Cassandra," Draco responded.

"Demos?" Harry inquired, his eyes hardening.

"Yeah," Draco confirmed. He grinned. "That's okay, right?" he asked mockingly.

Harry turned red as they continued to walk down the corridor. "Why are you snogging her if you don't want to?"

"Don't ask, Potter. It's a Lucius thing."

"Why does Lucius care about who you snog?" Harry asked.

"Well, normally he wouldn't. He might care if he found out I was snogging you, though. I'm snogging Cassandra because Lucius likes her father."

"You're right," Harry sighed, "I shouldn't ask."

Draco looked over. "This doesn't bother you, does it?" He asked in the same mocking tone he'd used previously. Partly because he enjoyed making fun of Potter, but also because he was curious about the Gryffindor's answer.

"No, it doesn't bother me," Harry lied, shaking his head adamantly. They continued to make their way through the castle.

"You're jealous!" Draco announced with glee, after a moment or two of observing Harry's face slowly morph into the colour of a ripe tomato.

"Am not!" Harry insisted. Draco continued to grin. "Oh, bugger off! I'm going to bed!" Harry told Malfoy stubbornly, and headed up the stairs to the Gryffindor dormitory.

"Sleep tight," Draco called after him. "Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

"Oh, go stick your head up your arse!" Harry yelled at him.

"Actually, I can think of a few other things that might be a bit more fun to stick up there," Draco retorted proudly.

"I hate you," Harry said dully.

"Really? I thought we were best friends!" Draco said, turning to make his way to the dungeons.

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Harry wasn't sure how he felt about Malfoy going off and making out with Cassandra. This was an unpleasant realization, because under more normal circumstances, in a more normal world (for instance, one where he wasn't snogging Draco Malfoy), he wouldn't give two hoots about who Malfoy snogged. He knew that he didn't like it; he just didn't know if that meant he was jealous. Malfoy seemed to think so. Harry shook his head, hoping to rid himself of such bothersome queries. What he really needed right now was to get a good night's sleep. But alas, it wasn't to be. When he entered the Gryffindor Common Room, he found himself face to face with Hermione and Ron, deep in discussion, and sitting in two of the chairs by the fire. They were obviously waiting up for him, as everyone else had already gone to bed.

"Good night," he said, as he attempted to walk by quickly, and up to the dormitories.

"Harry," Hermione said, "Please just listen to us for a second."

Harry heaved an impatient sigh. "Fine," he said, dragging himself over to a nearby chair.

They all sat in silence for a moment, before Hermione broke down.

"We're so sorry, Harry!" She said earnestly. "You were right at breakfast this morning. We haven't been very supportive recently, and we haven't been very good friends. We don't want you to feel like a third wheel."

"Yeah, your friendship is really important to us," Ron agreed.

Harry grunted. "So, will you help me bring Sirius back?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "If you believe that you can bring Sirius back, then we'll support you," Hermione said firmly.

Harry nodded ambiguously, and then grinned. Hermione and Ron grinned with relief as well.

"So we're friends again?" Ron asked.

"We're friends again," Harry affirmed.

Hermione sniffed.

"Here come the waterworks," Ron said, rolling his eyes. Hermione got up and went over to hug Harry tightly.

"Easy, 'Mione. If you don't let up, I'm going to need a towel," Harry said sheepishly, patting her back.

Hermione stopped crying, and was silent for a second before she started to giggle. "What?" Harry asked, confused by her sudden amusement.

"Who gave you those?" Hermione asked, pointing to his neck, and continuing to giggle. Ron leaned over to get a look.

"Hickeys! Why've you got hickeys on your neck?" Ron asked in shock.

Hermione shoved Ron playfully. "Really, Ron. Obviously Harry has been participating in some extracurricular snogging! So, Harry, who's the lucky lady?"

Harry tried to grin along with them, but was having a bit of difficulty. Why, oh, why hadn't he thought to cast concealment charms the second that Malfoy's lips had left his neck? Oh, right; because after they left his neck, they went down to his... Harry stopped that thought immediately. Now was definitely not the time for post-snogging reflection. He had to think of something fast - something brilliant - something they would fall for with no doubts.

"I…I fell down," Harry said, lamely.

Hermione and Ron gave him identical looks of disbelief. Ron burst out laughing. "Come on, Harry! Who was it? Parvati?"

"No, I'm serious! I fell down! I fell onto, onto some quills. They bruised my neck."

"Cho?" Hermione asked, choosing to ignore him. Harry winced.

"Padma?"

"Hannah?"

"Hannah?" Ron asked Hermione, a dubious expression on his face.

"What's wrong with Hannah?" Hermione asked.

"Well, she's in Hufflepuff," Ron said.

"Who says Harry wouldn't date a Hufflepuff?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. Harry, would you date a Hufflepuff?" Ron asked, turning to Harry. He glared at them.

"What about Lavender?"

"Susan?"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Harry exclaimed, with offended dignity. He huffed indignantly. "I'm going to bed."

"Oh, come on, Harry!" Hermione pleaded. "We won't tease you that much!"

"Goodnight!" Harry called over his shoulder.

"Spoil sport!" Ron yelled at him, as Harry closed the door. He turned eagerly to Hermione. "So, who do you think it is?"

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Okay, what did you think? Come on, be honest! Did you HATE it? Did you LOVE it? Do you want to promise me your first born child if I'll update again soon? (I will not mention this particular reviewer's name because I don't want them to lose the respect of their unborn child, but I just had to say that – it was the most amusing comment ever!) I'm quite pleased with the things I've been offered by my reviewers: first born children, shrines (you really SHOULD build me a shrine sumisweet! How cool would that be?!), grovelling (I'm completely flattered Orme!), etc. Instead, I think I should be offering you guys things just for reviewing. So you know what, I will.

My Promise: Should I get enough good reviews after having posted this chapter, I will write a PARTICULARLY juicy NC-17 scene. Oh, if you think the one in this chapter was good, you just wait. Tell me what you think! What do you like (or not, for that matter!) about the story? So you guys, you'd better review! Super-juicy scene is at stake here!