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By Dimgwrthien

Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Harry Potter series or affiliates. Please do not sue.

Draco glanced down the empty halls, feeling and looking cross. Never in his life had he had to do something so idiotic.

No footsteps. Damn. The Slytherin adjusted his tie, glancing at it once to remind himself of the purpose. Green and silver. Salazar Slytherin. Lord Voldemort.

The mission was failing so far.

Due to his father's imprisonment in Azkaban - damn him too, and those dementors - Draco was the one assigned to dealing with Potter. Damn Potter the most. It was his bloody fault his father was in Azkaban in the first place. Now he had to pay for it.

He had to weasel information out of the bugger.

They already knew about the Order of the Phoenix, of course. The only problem was that they knew nothing more than that. The Order of the Phoenix. The name. Bloody lot of help that was.

Draco had thought long and hard about the assignment. More than it deserved really, he noted. Potter wasn't worth that sort of thinking. In the end, he had decided that there was only one way to trick Potter.

'You're a bloody whore, Potter,' Draco thought, and felt some amount of joy that he always had the privacy of his own head. When the footsteps came into his range of hearing, Draco knew how to act. Her loosened his tie, letting his collar fall slightly to reveal prominent collarbones. He knew himself that at the time, he was not in the perfect condition to be seducing men. The orders from Voldemort already had him running ragged around the school, doing this and that, just to ensure his own life.

Potter rounded the corner, holding his bag up to his hips, trying to grab something from within when he walked up close to Draco. Draco smiled at him - cursing himself for it the entire time - and leaned casually against the wall.

"Hullo, Harry," he said, trying to make his voice as smooth as possible. In all truth, he wanted to bite his tongue hard enough to cut it in half and die right there. "Doing alright?"

Potter gave Draco an odd look, and Draco felt a surge of anger. No one in their right mind would reject a Malfoy! And why? Draco would show him -

He did not mean to. It just happened.

Once minute, Draco had been trying to prove to that Potter that Malfoys were wonderful and always desired because of their beauty. And yet, there he was, kissing Potter full on the lips, enjoying it.

What the hell had happened?"

In his shock, Potter managed to break away, wide-eyed. "Malfoy!" he yelped, not moving. He seemed rooted to the spot and Malfoy felt the odd urge to take advantage of it and touch the boy all over, but he stopped himself only by digging his hands into his pockets and taking on his cool attitude again.

"Yes?" he answered.

Malfoy could never understand why Potter kept following him around that year.

Bastard.