Hi, everyone! This story is Harry/ Draco slash. Dumbledore, Sirius, Tonks, Lupin, etc. are all still only people to die were (obviously) Harry's parent's and Cedric. The story will be in part about the uprising of the death eaters. Harry defeated Voldemort in year 4, and although Malfoy is still a bloody meanie, he isn't a deatheater or evil. However, his father is. Other pairing's then our lovely Draco and Harry, but just the regular, R/H, L/N, G/... haven't decided yet, actually. Fred and George will be in here somewhere, I'll sneak them in since I luv them so much : )
NO O/Cs, I HATE THEM SO. Enjoy the slashie slahedy slash!
Draco Malfoy was easily the most hated person in Harry Potter's life, which didn't really explain why when he opened his eyes in the morning, Draco was in his bedchamber, picking up, examining for value, and placing down with a sneer every single item he could find.
"Honestly, Potter. Do you have anything of value here? My father says that any wizard worth his salt has at least one or two inherited magical items worth a couple galleons, but all you have is that common invisabilty cloak."
Harry snorted indignatly. "I's not common! D'you have one? Didn't think so!"
Draco shrugged. "Whatever. I've got several Slytherin heirlooms, which are worth far more than some piece of fabric."
Harry slung his legs out of bed, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, but does that really explain what you're doing in my bedroom."
Pause.
"Draco, that was a question, not a statement."
Draco took a deep breath, running his hands through his blond-white hair. "Damn, I knew that was going to come up. Well, you remember the yule ball three years ago?"
Harry smirked. "The one where I single handedly defeated Voldemort afterwards?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeaah, that's the one. I knew that incident would come up again, you little bragger. Anyways, we're having another one in December."
Harry stood up, clad in golden snitch pajamas. "Yeah, I'm actually chief designer of the dance."
Draco rubbed the back of his neck, preparing to say the most embaressing words ever said. "Congrats. Well, you know how they pick the parteners? Out of the goblet of fire?"
Harry wiggled his bare toes at Draco, as he was under the bed looking for socks. "Yeees.... and...."
Draco blushed, his pale face turning as red as a Weasley child's. "Well.... you and me got picked and apparently I'm on the dance committee too and second in command."
The sound of a bang came from under the bed as Harry's head bolted up. "JESUS!" He screamed, and pushed himself out from under the bed. "THAT GODDAMN CUP HAS REALLY GOT IT IN FOR ME! MY GOD..."
"And remember what McGonagall said? About us actually having to dance with our partners on at least three occasions? She even said she'd be monitoring us.... ol' bat."
Harry frowned. "Well, we're going to go talk to her right now. There's no way that this is happening. I mean, for Dumbledore's sake, we hate each other. Everyone knows that! C'mon..." He grabbed Draco's arm.
Draco felt something odd as Harry's fingers wrapped around his slightly muscled upper arm. Like... like he was sick. He felt something drop in the pit of his stomach, an ache in his head, a trembling in the arm which Harry Potter now held.
He slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me, Potter." He sneered. "I'm very well capable of going places on my own."
A surprised Harry shrugged and kept walking.
"Potter?"
He sighed, spinning around. "YES, DRACO! Any more bad news you want to share with me? Ooo, I know! Hermione accidently had sex with a death eater? Ron ate some rat poison? What!?!"
"Your socks don't match. You've got one which I think belongs to Ginny, the one with the purple sparkly heart, and the other one is the snitch one Dobby knitted."
Harry stared Malfoy's pale face, making a pink blush spread over his delicate features.
"Wha-what..." Draco muttered, looking down.
"Nothing." Harry shrugged. "I'm just surprised that you aren't a git all the time."
And he grabbed his hand, starting to run across the grounds, and this time...
Draco didn't let go.