Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. I just like to play with him a little. I'd love to own him but… ya know, cheap dream.

A/N: I'm bad with promises. Bite me.

-.-

Draco slammed the door shut. His temper was rising, and he needed the get it out of his system. He opened the door and slammed it again. And again. And again.

"'Ey, mate, knock it off. We have neighbors, you know." Blaise said, slipping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His black hair was wet from a fresh shower, and he smelled of Old Spice.

"You reek, why do you wear that stuff?" Draco asked. He stormed to the kitchen and opened every cabinet, before slamming them all shut.

"Are you deaf? We're not the only tenants in this building, and you know Mrs. Watson isn't a fan of noise. She's 79 years old."

Draco turned to his flatmate and glared, "I just had a very strange day, Blaise, and I'm not in the mood to jest."

Blaise rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, "What happened?" he asked with a sigh.

The blond reached into the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of cream pop, throwing one to his friend before opening his own.

"I ran into Weasley today. It was horrible." He started.

Blaise's eyes grew three times they're normal size, "Weasley? What happened?" He took a swig of his drink.

"It was very strange. It was almost like there was a spark between us. I went to the shop where Weasley works, and nearly had to rush out of there because it was driving me nutters." Draco replied, taking a swig of his drink and falling into the setee.

Blaise's mouth twitched in thought, and he turned to his room to get dressed. They spoke through the half-open door, "That's kind of creepy, mate. Maybe you shouldn't do this Lent thing. You're looking at guys? Poor Malfoy," he sighed.

"What? No! I'm talking about Ginny Weasley, the little sister, you dimwit. Gawd, Blaise, how dense are you? I don't swing that way and you know it."

Realization hit Blaise like a brick wall and he smiled before exiting his bedroom, fully clothed. His hair still damp, he ruffled it with his hand and took a swig of his pop.

-.-

Sorry, I know this is a slow, boring, short chapter, but I had to get something up before my sister attacked me. Better chapter next time, promise. This one came hard enough as it is. Any suggestions are LOVED and please review!

-AMi