"He loves you, you know?"

Harry heard the question and ignored it, taking a bite of his oatmeal. It did seem like an odd thing to for Ron to say, but he had been talking to Lavender and Pavarti a lot lately. "Did you hear me?" Ron punched his shoulder just hard enough that Harry couldn't doubt who he was talking to.

"Yeah, I heard you," he muttered. "I just don't have a clue what you're talking about." And he really didn't. Ron never talked about love. In fact, he generally avoided the issue so much that Harry wasn't sure his friend actually believed in it, much to Hermione's annoyance. Quidditch was more his thing, after all.

"He," Ron stressed. "You know, him!" he pointed across the room and Harry looked up, following the finger.

"Ugh," he grimaced. "Justin? No thanks." He tried to shake away his disgust. When that failed, he chose to drown it instead, taking several large gulps of his pumpkin juice.

"Not Justin, you dolt," Ron shot back, and Harry could tell the idea disgusted the red-head just as much as it did him. "On the other side of the Hufflepuff table. Him!" He pointed again. Harry let his eyes skip past the Hufflepuffs, scanning down the line of Slytherins at the next table to find just who Ron was pointing at. Ron could tell exactly when Harry spotted the teen. It wasn't often that his friend choked on juice and he patted Harry's back roughly.

"Him?" the brunet rasped as soon as he could speak again. "You're off your rocker!" Harry stood, grabbing his robe and throwing it on as he started to walk away. "Nuts, bonkers, loony, insane," Ron heard him mumble as he left. He looked down the table at Lavender, Pavarti and Ginny, shaking his head. The girls groaned as one. Harry was more dense than they'd ever suspected.

He wanted to forget what Ron said. He tried, really, but short of banging his head against the wall, Harry didn't think he'd be able to. The words were out there. They couldn't be taken back, not that Ron looked like he was about to do so. He snuck a glance at the Slytherin whose name had been running through his mind since breakfast. He was leaning against his desk, surrounded by his usual cronies, and running his hand through his hair. Soft blond hair that Harry really wanted to touch.

Wait. That wasn't right. Harry didn't want to touch another bloke's hair. He was just envious of how manageable the blond locks seemed. Not at all like his unruly mess of hair. He nodded. That sounded logical enough. Harry groaned, letting his chin fall to the table and ignoring the concerned look Hermione sent him, and the knowing one Ron sent him. Except, he generally didn't care that his hair was a mess. He tried to tear his eyes away from the other boy, but even the arrival of Snape, that dreaded Potions Demon, couldn't keep his attention off the blond.

Ron grinned when he noticed Harry's preoccupation. He caught Lavender's eyes and nodded meaningfully in Harry's direction. She smiled brilliantly, clapping her hands together softly. Maybe there was hope for him just yet.

Hermione always went to the library when she was concerned about something. Harry followed her cue and spent his free period hidden among the dusty books and moldy tomes. The look on Madame Pince's face, utter shock, amused him for a while but he'd managed to catch a flash of blond hair. That simple glimpse completely ruined him for any work that he may have even considered doing. Instead, Harry spent the entire time sitting at one of the wide tables, a large book spread open in front of him and his face turned down enough to make it look like he was reading the small print.

He wasn't, of course, and anyone who cared to look could tell. No one spent an nearly an hour on the same page, no matter how fine the lettering. Harry was too busy looking through his hair at the Slytherin to notice that rather glaring oversight in his plan. He was trying to find even one hint of the emotion that Ron claimed the teen had. Not because he wanted the other boy to love him, oh no. It was just because he wanted to be able to tell Ron again just how stupid he thought the whole thing was, and to force the boy to stay as far from the gossiping girlies that had put the idea into his usually thick skull. That was all.

Ron, two tables away, put on a more convincing show of study than his dark-haired friend. He at least turned the pages every now and then. He smiled when he realized that Harry was watching the Slytherin. He looked up at the girls sitting across from him, watching him expectantly, and nodded. Ginny and Pavarti immediately stifled excited giggles behind their hands. Ron checked to make sure Harry hadn't noticed. He hadn't, was still staring at the quietly studying blond with a sharp gaze. Ron smiled wider and flipped the page in his book.

Lunch was drawing to a close and Harry was still picking at his meal, pushing a small chunk of meat around the plate with his fork. He'd been watching the boy for half a day now and he wasn't acting any different than he ever had. Still the same arrogant prat he'd always been. Prancing about like he owned the castle just because he was rich and smart and looked entirely too good in the school uniform. Stop. Strike that last bit. Harry nodded to himself. The rich and smart things were more than enough to complete the list. He certainly didn't need to add someone else's opinion of the boy's looks into the mix, because it definitely wasn't his opinion.

Ron carefully watched his friend from the corner of his eye. He'd finished lunch a long time ago, but he was waiting for another sign. He hadn't known Harry for seven years and not learned anything about him. He could tell Harry was having some kind of discussion with himself. The nod he witnessed was all he needed and he crossed his fingers, waving them at Pavarti. She grinned and turned holding a whispered conversation with the other girls. Ron could tell, it wouldn't be long now.

He was going to ask him, Harry decided. He even figured out exactly what to say, how to say it, had been working on the disinterested look he planned to use for the last half hour. He waited for the perfect moment. At the end of Transfigurations, the blond's friends left his side long enough that Harry figured he could put his plan to action. He stood, not noticing the collective holding of breath from the Gryffindor side of the classroom, and made his way across the room. He stopped right in front of the other boy's desk and coughed softly to get his attention.

Harry was confronted by a cool stare, and the other boy lifted one graceful brow in question. He tried to get the words out, but the wouldn't come. The Slytherin's brows furrowed and he frowned. Harry nodded and spun on his heel, walking as swiftly from the desk as he could, much to the confusion of on-looking snakes and frustration of witnessing lions. Ron slapped his hand to his forehead. So close! He'd thought for sure that was going to be it.

This was it! It had been driving Harry crazy all day long and he refused to lose any sleep because of a baseless, stupid, possibly wonderful rumor. No! Not wonderful dammit! Why was his brain turning on him?! It was awful and nerve-wracking and his schoolwork would suffer. That's what he'd meant. He banged his head on the table a few times to punish his brain for being a traitor. All that got him was a faint headache and a bright red spot in the center of his forehead. He ignored the strange looks he was getting from the table at large, and the whispers that raced down the benches.

There he was, that plague. Harry stood, stepping away from the table with a determined look on his face. This was his shot. He had to take it or lose precious sleep time. He needed that sleep time. "Hey!" he shouted, not noticing that his voice rang out, gaining the attention of every student in the Great Hall. He was too busy keeping his eyes trained on the one boy, that blond Slytherin, who wouldn't stay out of his head. Harry stalked toward the boy, stopping a few paces away and glaring up into the same cool stare that had intimidated him last time.

He was a Gryffindor and he refused to let that work twice. "Do you love me?" he spat, completely giving up on trying to act as cool as the other boy could. Ron stood up, leaning on the table for a better look, a move that was copied by Lavender, Ginny and Pavarti several seats away. Harry had yet to notice the deep and sudden silence in the hall. Ron did though, and he smiled.

Draco Malfoy looked down at Harry, his brows raised in surprise. "Of course I do, you nit wit," he answered simply and the words nearly knocked Harry off his feet.

"Oh," Harry said after a long, long, long few moments. "Ok, then." He turned and started to stumble away.

"Hey, wait a second," Malfoy called and Harry turned back, looking at the taller boy blankly. "That's it? That's all you want to say?" the blond asked disbelievingly.

Harry looked away and shrugged. "Um, yes? See, I thought Ron was just pulling my leg and I wanted to prove him wrong." He laughed a little, scratching the back of his head. "That kind of backfired, huh?"

"Screw it," Ron muttered under his breath. "Just kiss him already, Ferret!" he yelled, the girls calling out their agreement. The heads of the students swiveled towards him, mostly shocked, then back to see if Malfoy would actually take the suggestion.

Harry blushed and started to walk back to his seat. He'd only taken a few steps when Malfoy grabbed his arm and spun him around. "It's not that easy, Potter," he whispered, the tone of his voice much more sweet than his words suggested. "You can't embarrass me in front of all our classmates, making me confess so publicly, and then just walk away." He tsked and shook his head slightly, the movement making his lips brush softly over the Gryffindor's ear.

Harry flushed brighter. "How was I supposed to know?" he mumbled, but Draco wasn't the only one who noticed he wasn't trying particularly hard to get away. "Who thinks a few fights between rivals now and then is a way to show love?"

Malfoy laughed huskily in his ear. "I'm sorry I didn't go for rose and sonnets," he drawled. Harry opened his mouth to respond but instead froze at the feel of Malfoy's lips pressed against his. The Great Hall erupted into cheers and catcalls, Ron's hearty cries ringing out above them all. It was so good being right! No wonder Hermione enjoyed being such a brain.

"So thanks, Weasley," Draco said the next morning, nudging the red-head's shoulder. "Didn't I tell you it would work?" He grinned and looked down at Harry, sitting close at his side. It seemed that red was starting to become a permanent shade with him. Constant congratulations from Syltherins and Gryffindors alike did nothing to ease his embarrassment.

"I told you," Ron said, and shrugged. "And what can I say? If there's anyone at this table who can point out the obvious, it'd be me, right?" he laughed and took a bite of his waffles.

"Hey, Ron," Harry waited for Ron to look his way. "She loves you, you know," he said and pointed down the table.

Ron looked down the table and gagged. "Not funny, mate," he choked out. "She's my sister!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, not her. Her!" he stressed, pointing again. Ron's face turned bright red when he spotted the girl sitting next to Ginny. She looked up and waved cheerfully, pushing her brown hair from her face as she continued her conversation.

"You're nuts," Ron cried, standing and nearly running from the room.

Harry grinned, munching happily on a slice of bacon. "He's not the only one who can point out the obvious," he told Malfoy. Then they both looked down the table at Hermione, who was watching Ron's retreating figure with a mix of concern and bemusement.

A/N: Heh. I wanted to try a one-shot. How'd I do?