Summary and Disclaimer can be found in the prologue.

You Started It - chapter one

Bullstrode had balls. Not literally (which would come as a surprise to a few people), but the girl would do almost anything. The way in which she met every challenge thrown at her was reminiscent of a Gryffindor. Although it really wasn't wise to say that to her face… Theodore still bore the bruises.

0000000000

"Hey, Milli!" The loud voice belonged to Pansy Parkinson. "How many Galleons will it take for you to wear this Gryffindor scarf all day?"

Bullstrode cocked her head to the side, thinking, before seemingly reaching a conclusion.

"Three things, Parkinson," she said, snatching the scarf from Pansy's hands. "First, I'll wear the stupid thing for free, I don't give a shit. Second, I am curious to know why you even own this in the first place. And third," continued Millicent as she nonchalantly wrapped the scarf around her neck, "If you ever call me Milli again, I will break your fucking neck. Are we very clear on point number three?"

Pansy gulped and nodded her head fervently. "Crystal."

"Good. Now, let's get to breakfast. I'm starving."

0000000000

And that was how it started. Eventually, all the Seventh Year Slytherins were setting dares for each other. It was innocent enough in the beginning but inevitably, being that there were hormonal teenagers involved, it did not remain that way for very long.

0000000000

"Hey, Parky!" The loud voice belonged to Millicent Bullstrode. "How many Galleons will it take for you to snog Goyle?"

Pansy's eyes widened in shock and her gaze flicked to Gregory Goyle, who was watching the proceedings with nervous interest. But she quickly hid her unease behind a smirk.

"Three things, Bullstrode," she said, walking towards Goyle and sitting squarely in his lap. "First, I'll snog the stupid thing for free, I don't give a shit. Second, I am curious to know why you would even want to see that in the first place. And third," And here, Pansy paused to deliver a drawn-out, open-mouthed kiss to a thoroughly confused (and therefore, perfectly normal,) Goyle. "If you ever… uh… if… um…" Pansy wilted like, well, a dying flower, under Millicent's Glare of Impending Doom.

Bullstrode smiled sweetly, a remarkable feat when considering that she still managed to maintain the glare. "Please, go on." Her voice was dangerously amiable. "If I ever…?"

"Oh. Yeah. That. Um," Pansy cleared her throat nervously and plastered a fake grin on her face. "You know, I think that was it. Yeah, I'm sure it was… Two things. There were only two things… Everyone knows that I'm absolute bollocks when it comes to the whole, counting thing – with the numbers and all that." Her tinkling laugh at the end of this hurried correction bordered on hysterical.

Millicent glared for a few more moments, purely for good measure and entertainment value, before shrugging her shoulders dismissively. "Good. Now, let's get to dinner. I'm starving."

0000000000

It didn't take much time before Seventh Years from other Houses found out about the dares. When the Slytherins started kissing people indiscriminately, people were naturally wary. But it was relatively easy to figure out what was going on. After the initial confusion, it seemed that everyone thought this was a great idea (we are talking about teenagers here – remember the hormones?) and began instigating dares of their own.

Of course, the Professors couldn't help but notice the odd behaviour of their pupils, but chose to turn a blind eye. Even Professor Snape said nothing. Possibly, it was because they had bigger things to worry about – Voldemort was a wee bit of a handful, after all. But maybe they just couldn't be arsed dealing with something so dreadfully inane. Either way, just as long as the students didn't disrupt any classes, Seventh Year now looked set to become a snogging free-for-all.

There was one student in particular who found all the fuss highly amusing. Draco Malfoy watched on with an imperious air as his classmates made complete tossers of themselves. Ordinarily, he would have made the Slytherins stop all this foolishness before it had even begun but it was just so damn funny. Also, he still evoked enough fear in everybody so as to deter them from involving him in any way. The only person who might have the stones to approach him was Bullstrode. For this reason, he made it a point to never get on the girl's bad side. They had an unspoken agreement to leave each other alone. It generally helped to keep the peace; such as it was in Slytherin.

But Draco had forgotten to factor the infamous, Git-Who-Lived into the equation. And now, slumped alone in a dark corner of the Slytherin common room, mind still reeling from shock, Draco cursed himself for this oversight.

Harry Potter had kissed him! Had actually dared to push Draco Malfoy against a wall and… it was just too horrible to contemplate. The worst part of it was that he, Draco Malfoy, had done nothing to stop it. He had done nothing, full stop. That is, unless one counted all the blinking and the gaping and the hyperventilating… which Draco certainly did not, thank you very much.

Potter even had the audacity to blame him for it. Sure, the Slytherins had started the dares, but Draco had absolutely nothing to do with it! Draco did not want any part in it at all. He had thought that was obvious. But then, Gryffindor's were not overly known for their intelligence, except in rare cases.

"Draco!" He winced at the sound of Pansy's shrill voice. "What's wrong baby? You look terrible."

At that last statement, Draco shot her a glare. She took no notice as she sat down beside him on the couch. As always, Millicent was with her and, with a shrug, she plonked herself down on his other side. Draco wanted to glare at her too but, well, Bullstrode was scary.

Subjected to Pansy's constant questions and Bullstrode's silent observance, Draco cracked under the strain. Eyes closed and face flaming, he told them what had happened.

Only when he had finished with his almost clinical explanation did he open his eyes to gauge their reaction. He was met by two blank stares.

"He kissed you?" said Pansy finally, trying to grasp the idea.

"Yes."

"Did he use his tongue?"

Draco went even redder with embarrassment. "Yes."

"…And you did nothing?" This question was quiet and timid.

Draco spluttered. "What the hell could I have done? I was in shock, you fucking moron!"

Silence reigned.

…And was abruptly shattered a mere moment later by Millicent, who began laughing heartily.

Forgetting his innate fear of the girl, Draco turned on her. "Care to tell me what you find so funny about this situation, Bullstrode?" he hissed.

Millicent didn't miss a beat. "You. You're pathetic."

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Oh, really."

"Honestly!" She stopped laughing and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Harry Potter kisses you, and all you can think to do is come back here and sulk about it? That's not the kind of behaviour we've come to expect from the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin."

"Bloody hell. I wish everyone would just let that go. I only called myself by that title once and, if you'll recall, I was rather sloshed at the time," he said, scowling. "And I am not sulking!"

"Uh, Draco?" said Pansy timidly. "You really kind of are."

"What would you have me do instead, then?" He completely ignored Pansy and addressed the question to Millicent.

"Plot your revenge, obviously," came the simple reply.

Draco opened his mouth to retort, only to close it soon after when her words registered in his brain.

Millicent smirked knowingly.

"Revenge." Draco whispered the word as if it were a divine revelation and slowly got to his feet. "Of course… why did I not think of that before? I am Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin. I am a fucking God." He drew himself up to his full height. "Harry Potter must be made to feel my wrath!"

He looked down upon the two girls and was, once again, met with nothing but vacant stares.

"You want Potter to feel your what?" Blaise Zabini had chosen that moment to stroll over and join the conversation. His eyebrow quirked suggestively.

"Fuck off, Zabini."

"You know you love me, Malfoy."

"It's never going to happen, you wanker. Deal with it."

Blaise sighed wistfully. "I know, I know. Your heart belongs to another. I am no match for the Boy-Who-Lived." Falling dramatically into the spot Draco had just vacated, he placed his head on Pansy's shoulder and buried his face in her neck. "Hold me, Parkinson."

Pansy giggled, and soon she, Blaise, and Millicent were all guffawing loudly.

"Oh, just sod off." Scowling darkly, Draco turned away from them and stormed up the stairs. "Bastards."

0000000000

"Hey, Blaisey?" The loud voices belonged to Millicent and Pansy. At Blaise's questioning glance, Millicent was the one who continued. "How many Galleons will it take for you to tell Potter that Draco has a crush on him?"

Blaise grinned wolfishly. "Three things, ladies…"