Title: A Malfoy Gets What A Malfoy Wants

Author: CrimsonSnowflake

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, all the copyrights associated with Harry Potter belongs to her. Only the ideas contained within this story is the property of the author. No profit is being made by the writer of this story.

A/N: As I've already mentioned in the last chapter of Fighting Another War I've been planning to post this one shot, a christmas gift for a very good friend of mine. So here you have it. I have to admit that towards the ending it became a bit rushed and I apologize for that, but truth be told I was beginning to run out of time and was a little stressed when I wrote it so I hope I can be excused. That said, I hope you enjoy.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :D

Once a year every Gryffindor—from fourth year up to seventh—gathered together on the very first day of school, right after the welcoming feast. It was a well preserved tradition that had been going on for centuries. One that involved all the students in school, but which only Gryffindors were privy to. And at the centre of it all was a bottle. A simple glass bottle.

The rules were quite simple. They sat down on the floor in a circle and each student was required to spin the bottle. Whoever the bottle landed on would decide a dare for the spinner to accomplish before the end of the school year. Any failure resulted in a rather humiliating experience of running through the whole castle naked. Of course, any self-respecting Gryffindor would have the courage to go through with this punishment and so each year, without failure, a couple of unfortunate Gryffindors could be observed naked, as the day they were born, in public. A great source of amusement to their peers, no doubt. Which was the whole point of the tradition. And that was essentially the reason why none of the other houses practised, or was even aware of this game. The Hufflepuffs were too afraid to do it, the Ravenclaws too serious and the Slytherins—though the most likely beside the Gryffindors—had too much self-preservation to do it.

Harry, who rather enjoyed this game, never failed to accomplish whatever task his house-mates presented him with. For example last year when he had been told to break into the headmaster's private chambers and steal his favourite pair of woollen socks. A pair in a flashy green and purple colour. It had been quite a success, he had accomplished the task by Yule and had presented the socks to Dumbledore at the end of the year feast. A pleasant surprise, the headmaster had called it.

Due to his success with the previous dares the flutter of butterflies in his stomach could not be quenched as he saw Hermione, who sat beside him, spin the bottle. Anticipation rushed through him, nearly making his limbs tremble in impatience for his turn. Would this year's dare be more of a challenge than the last one? Would it involve someone else or only himself? The possibilities were many.

"I dare you to giggle and flutter your eyes each time Snape looks at you." Came Neville's voice, confident and without a stutter. The war, however dreadful it had been, had done wonders for Neville's confidence. And even though not much had changed, besides the fact that Voldemort was no longer at large and some of the more prominent death eaters had been locked away, it seemed that Neville had learned how to stand up for himself.

Hermione took his dare in stride and instead of saying anything just rolled her eyes and looked expectantly at Harry. Sending a wide grin her way Harry casually reached out and took a hold of the bottle. The glass felt cold against his palm, a great contrast to the warmth provided by the large fireplace they were sitting by. With a slight twist of his fingers he sent the bottle spinning. He watched, transfixed, as the glass bottle slowed down before finally stopping. Green eyes looked up from the bottle, taking in the person it had stopped on. Dean Thomas. Harry paled.

No matter how gentle and calm the other houses thought Dean to be, every single person in Gryffindor knew otherwise. Behind that kind exterior was an evil mastermind. At least, when it came to coming up with cruel dares, that is. The whole room fell silent as they all watched Dean in expectation while he came up with a dare for him.

"I dare you," Dean's deep voice sounded, his dark eyes glinting with mischievousness, "to make Draco Malfoy chase after you in a romantic sense. You have to entice him into wanting you, desire you so much that he'll put aside your rivalry in order to get you."

"What?" Three, outraged voices shouted at the same time as Harry, Hermione and Ron jumped to their feet in indignation.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Thomas?" Ron roared, his face turning an angry red as he glared at the other.

"I'm giving Harry his dare, it's not illegal is it?" Dean replied, completely unaffected by the tall, threatening red head before him. "There's not a rule that says that this isn't allowed is there? Besides, if the dare disgusts him so much he can just forfeit."

Seamus, a wide, lecherous grin on his face, joined in the conversation while he leering at Harry. "I for one would love to see some naked Potter arse."

"But don't you think it's a little too much, Dean?" Hermione, ever the rationalist, added her two cents, sending Seamus a scathing glare. "For one, it's Malfoy. Second, it's a little bit cruel, isn't it? What if Malfoy truly falls in love with Harry and he finds out that the whole thing was for our amusement?"

"Come on, Hermione. This is Malfoy we're talking about, what's the chance of Harry even managing to catch his attention in the way Dean wants him to? We all know how much the two despises each other, I doubt that the ferret would be gracious enough to forget that." Once again Seamus spoke his opinion.

"That's not the point!" She snapped back. "Malfoy is just as much of a human as we are and as such we should treat him like one."

"What do you mean when you say that I have to make him chase me?" Harry suddenly questioned. His green eyes were wide in curiosity as he gazed at Dean inquiringly.

"I mean that you'll have to get him to make a move on you without taking the first step. Display yourself in an attractive manner and hope for the best. You have to lure him in and make him believe that it was all his idea to begin with, that you had nothing—except looking attractive—to do with it."

The corners of his lips moved upwards, creating a small, amused smile. "I can do that."

"Harry!" His muggleborn friend shouted in outrage. "You can't be serious!"

"Of course I am. I've never backed down from a dare yet and I won't now either."

It was a perfectly normal morning. The Ravenclaws were, as Ravenclaws ought to be, the first to arrive in the Great hall, followed closely by the Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and lastly a rather grumpy gang of Gryffindors. It was well known that when it came to the mornings Gryffindors were not their chirpy self. In fact, going by the many glares levelled at the other houses, more often than not they were more grouchy than all the other houses combined. Harry Potter was not an exception to this and so, when he finally arrived to breakfast after having dragged himself out of his warm and cosy bed, he could be seen glaring right along with his house-mates. The pointed looks sent his way by Dean did, of course, nothing to improve his mood, resulting in a Potter more bad-tempered than usual. It was painfully obvious that Dean—and Seamus for that matter—wouldn't allow him to forget his task until he had finished it.

"Good morning Harry!" Hermione, always the exception, cheerfully greeted him. "Had a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know what you're being so cheery about, Hermione," he ground out, roughly grabbing a glass of pumpkin juice and gulping it down. " Is the prospect of acting as if you have a school-girl crush on Snape so appealing to you?"

"Oh hush you." She retorted, lightly slapping him on his shoulder. "Just because you are in a bad mood I won't let you drag me down with you. I'm quite at peace with my dare. I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Ho-How bad can it be? You're joking with me right? This is Snape we're talking about! It'll be as bad as it can get!" He waved around a piece of bacon to emphasize. "I'm sorry to say, but you are doomed, my friend.

"Honestly, stop being so dramatic. You know just as well as I do that Professor"She made sure to punctuate the importance of the word with a pointed glare his way, "Snape isn't nearly as bad as you and Ron paint him to be."

"Fine, but don't come whining to me when you've landed yourself with a heap of detentions and a flunk in potions."

"Hermione flunking in potions?" Ron suddenly butted in, seating himself on Hermione's right as he tiredly rubbed at his eyes. "I'd love to see the day."

"What am I even doing with the two of you? Morons, that's what you are."

"I'm hurt, fatally wounded!" Harry suddenly shouted, clutching his chest as if having been hit by an arrow and falling to the ground in a dramatic faint. "Save me Ron, my loyal knight in shining armour!"

"Fear not my sweet damsel! I will rescue you!" And in a display of his improved transfiguration skills he transfigured his knife and plate into a sword and shield. He jumped from his seat and rushed to Harry's side in a flourish of movements. A mock glare on his face he turned to face Hermione and pointed his sword at her. "Back off fiend! You will not steal my love from me!"

"Oh my saviour!" Two hands grabbed a hold of Ron's face, a pair of green eyes gazing dreamily into the Weasley's blue. And with a small wink in Hermione's direction Harry planted a big, wet smooch right on Ron's unprepared lips.

Applause erupted from their table as several Gryffindors released a few wolf whistles. Grabbing his friend's hand Harry drew him up into a standing position and, with a wide grin on his face, bowed. None of them were at all affected by the disdained glares levelled at them by their neighbours—the Slytherins.

"A wonderful display I must say." Dumbledore's voice, ever so cheery, came from behind them. "It would seem that young Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley has a never before seen ability when it comes to the art of performing. 10 points to Gryffindor for a fantastic display of creativity."

And with that the headmaster, clad in a particularly eccentric outfit, wondered along up to the head table, humming a tune to himself with a beaming smile plastered on his face. It wasn't until Dumbledore had seated himself that things went back to normal. Harry and Ron went back to their seats, pleased grins on both their faces and very much awakened from their sleep. With a new enthusiasm they began piling their plates with food and began eating said food with a healthy appetite. Or, in Ron's case, shovelling as much food as possible into his mouth, much to Hermione's apparent disgust.

The rest of the morning passed by uneventfully and it didn't take long before it was time to head off to class. And their first class, much to Ron and Harry's delight, was potions. Of course, Hermione, never one to be flipped off her stick, took it all in stride and only replied to their apparent pleasure with a scathing comment. "I don't know what you're so pleased about Harry, Malfoy is in this class too you know."

"Don't remind me." He groaned. "How am I even supposed to go about this? I don't know how to seduce somebody."

"Oh hush. Just make sure to display that arse of yours to him and he'll come running along like a trained puppy. Seriously, Harry, I've caught Malfoy looking at you from time to time and if you just make sure that he sees your best attributes then you'll have him hook, line and sinker." She stopped for a moment, turning to face him. "For instance, if you exchange those baggy trousers for some tight fitting jeans and get rid of those horrid glasses you're bound to get some more attention."

"Yeah, but that only has to do with my looks, Malfoy isn't stupid, he won't fall for me just because of how I look." Harry pointed out.

"And that's why you'll change the way you behave around him. You, Harry, are going to play hard to get. Malfoy, if I've figured him out right, loves a challenge. Next time the two of you end up in a fight you're going to have to leave him hanging." A smirk spread across her face. "I mean it, you're not allowed to respond to any of his insults. Make him think that you are tired of your banter and then you'll just have to wait and see."

"How do you know this?" Ron questioned, surprised blue eyes gazing at her as if he had never seen her before.

"It's quite simple if you just pay attention, Ron. Malfoy is a typical alpha male, he likes to have control and when things doesn't go the way he wants it to he has to mend that, lest his pride gets hurt." She turned back to Harry. "And because of his controlling behaviour you will have to take on a more submissive, yet challenging role."

"Bloody fantastic." Harry murmured, swinging his bag back and forth in agitation. The prospect of submitting to Malfoy in any way did not sit well with him.

"I'll be transfiguring your trousers now Harry. We have to start sometime and the first day of classes would be most fitting, that way he'll believe that the change has come over summer and won't be as suspicious. Stand still." And with a swish and a flick of her wand she transfigured his loose trousers into a pair of dark ones that seemed to have been painted on him.

"Somehow I think you are enjoying this a tiny bit more than you should, 'Mione." He could hear Ron mumbling, dragging an amused grin from Harry.

"There," she continued, completely ignoring their red-headed friend, with a satisfied look, "much better. Now come along before we're late."

"And whose fault is that, I wonder?"

Surprisingly, they managed to arrive just before Snape, in his usual manner, arrived with an impressive billow to his cloak and his customary scowl firmly plastered on his brooding face. A sneer was, immediately upon the professor's entrance, thrown at the golden trio. And to be honest Harry would have been surprised if it hadn't. Snape's sour demeanour was as much of a tradition as their dares were, and Harry wouldn't have known what to do should that tradition ever change. In a way, it was reassuring. Knowing that despite all that had happened his potions professor hadn't changed much was, oddly enough, quite nice, he mused as the glaring, dark eyes of the professor scanned the room.

A rather high-pitched giggle suddenly filled the air, bouncing off the dungeon walls in an echo. All the Gryffindors, as if one being, immediately swung around, knowing perfectly well what the horrid sound had been and anticipating the no doubt amusing show that would unfold before them. Green eyes sparkled with enjoyment as they took in the embarrassed flush decorating Hermione's cheeks.

Snape hardly paused in his lecture about why the aconite, or wolfsbane as it was sometimes called, needed to be chopped and not sliced when making certain potions. Instead the Professor only sent a sceptical glare in the general direction of which the giggle had come from before continuing on. Once again that grating giggle resonated through the room. Harry smirked, taking in the way Snape's right eyebrow began to twitch lightly. Neville couldn't have been more ingenious when he had picked the Slytherin head as Hermione's victim. Snape was sure to produce some rather amusing reactions.

"It is important that the aconite be chopped and not sliced due to the—What in Merlin's name is that infernal noise?" It was when the third giggle had been uttered that the brooding man finally reacted. "If some of you inarticulate imbeciles have found this an appropriate time to keel over and die please do so outside the classroom. I have not the time, nor the slightest bit of inclination to clean up one of your worthless corpses today. Now, turn to page 257 and, however difficult it must be, keep your mouths shut!"

"Who would've thought," Harry bemusedly commented, his bag slung over his shoulder swinging back and forth as a teasing smile forced the corners of his lips upwards, "that Snape enjoyed looking so much at you, 'Mione. I don't think I've ever heard anyone, least of all you, giggle so much in my entire life."

"Shut up!" Hermione snarled, her cheeks flushed red as she turned furious brown eyes on Harry. "Another word from you, Harry James Potter, and my assistance in your seduction of Draco Malfoy will disappear faster than a bag of lemon drops in Dumbledore's hands."

"As if Harry needs help in seducing the ferret." Ron suddenly scoffed.

"Of course he does, Ronald. Seducing someone while making it look like they are the seducer and not the seduced takes a small sliver of finesse which neither you nor Harry possess. Ergo, he will never succeed without my help."

"It's true." Harry easily admitted with a careless shrug when Ron turned to look at him for support.

"Why do I even bother sticking up for you?" The redhead threw his hands up into the air in a move suspiciously reminiscent of the way Hermione acted whenever she was particularly exasperated with their behaviour.

"Because you love me." Was the singsonged reply.

"Prat!" Ron shouted, grabbing after his friend, fully intending to make him eat his words, chasing after him down the hallway when he missed. A rolling, gleeful laughter echoed through the castle as Harry teasingly allowed the lanky youth to catch up with him before easily slipping away from him, eliciting a new string of playful insults being sent his way.

Their fun was, however ruined with Harry having his breath knocked out of him after having run straight into what seemed to be a particularly warm wall. A wince of pain and a quite whimper escaped the confines of his mouth as he fell to the floor, landing uncomfortably on his tail-bone. An insult and a rather colourful curse was on the tip of his tongue only to be quenched at the very last minute when he looked up to take in his hinder. The characteristic sneer was unmistakable.

With an air of nonchalance around him, Harry stood up and brushed off his clothes and greeted his target with a curt nod, "Malfoy." before sweeping past him. Hermione's words were still fresh in his mind and he figured that now would be as good a time as any to begin with his dare.

"Where do you think you are going, Potter?" A large—larger than Harry's—calloused hand latched onto his wrist and jerked him backwards.

"I have transfiguration." Harry replied, not trying to extract his arm from the Slytherin's tight grip, but simply staring expectantly at the blond as if waiting to see if there was something specific he wanted.

Whatever reply Malfoy had come up with never had the chance to be aired as Ron, out of breath and a grin on his face, suddenly came running towards them. It was almost comical the way the red-head's smile slipped off his face only to be replaced by a stormy scowl, the way those blue eyes had to look, once, twice, even three times at the hand latched onto Harry's arm, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Malfoy!" The youngest Weasley son hissed, "What the ruddy hell do you think you are doing? Let him go!"

Without waiting for the blond to obey his order Ron strode forward and positioned himself between them, forcing Malfoy to relinquish his hold on Harry lest he wanted to be within kissing distance of the furious Gryffindor. There was nothing unusual about the face off, in fact, their encounters with Malfoy had become such a routine that Harry nearly forgot the fact that he wasn't supposed to react to the Slytherin's jabs. He did, however, and reacted accordingly.

"Come on, Ron. Let's just go." He placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, lightly tugging at it in an attempt to drag the larger boy away from Draco. "It's not worth a detention."

"You sure mate?" Ron replied, not once taking his eyes off the potential threat in front of them. "I wouldn't mind roughing him up for you."

A not so subtle snort came from Malfoy then, the first sign that he was even aware of their conversation. "You taking me on, Weasley? Well, go ahead then, I could use some amusement right now."

"Don't!" Harry shouted, wrapping both of his arms around the Weasley when his friend suddenly lunged, intent on taking down the blond a few notches. "Don't you dare, Ron. Just listen to me and walk away."

"Yes, do be a good little bitch and listen to your master."Malfoy added in his two cents.

"Ron Weasley," Harry whispered into Ron's ear, green eyes looking at Malfoy with indifference, surprisingly managing to hide the anger hiding beneath the surface. "If you jump Malfoy now and ruin the dare for me I promise you that I won't be the only one running around with my bits showing for the whole school to see."

"Fine, let's go." The redhead finally relented, sending Malfoy one last glare, spinning around and grabbing a hold of Harry before dragging him off with him.

"I feel sorry for you Harry," Ron stated once the Slytherin was out of sight, "Really, I do. Having to seduce someone like that must be horrific."

"Come on tough guy," Harry simple patted his friend's broad back, choosing to ignore his last sentence. "Let's head on off to Transfiguration."

Several days passed after their—or rather Ron's—latest confrontation with Malfoy. Harry had seen neither hide nor hair of him after that incident and, understandably, he was beginning to wonder if accepting the dare had been a wise move on his part. With each day, hour and minute that went by he actually put in an effort in his appearance, obeying Hermione's advice. He had been near giving up when suddenly Seamus had casually remarked upon the way the entire Slytherin table seemed to be looking in their direction.

"Do you think they're planning something?" Eyes narrowed in suspicion the Gryffindor sent a scathing glare towards the ones clad in silver and green.

"Why else would they be looking?" Ron, mouth stuffed as was usual when sitting by the dinner table, questioned.

"No, they're not planning anything." Harry added his two cents. "Something has changed, however. You can see it in the way they're moving, they're uncertain of how they should behave."

"You can see that?" A surprised Hermione turned to him.

"Of course I can, it's easy. Take Parkinson for example, usually she would be hanging onto Malfoy or Zabini by now, but look at her, she's just sitting there talking to Bullstrode." He pointed out as if it was the simplest of things. "Something must have happened within the Slytherin house for them to be this out of it."

"Now that you say so..." Hermione began, her brown eyes growing calculating as they immediately zoned in on the middle of the Slytherin table, or to be more exact, a certain Malfoy. She took in the way the Slytherin prince, no matter how discreet, seemed to always keep an eye on Harry. The way he would send a particularly harsh glare in the direction of anyone—both Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw—who so much dared to look at Harry in an appreciative manner. It was all rather interesting.

"My fellow Gryffindors," She began talking loud enough for them to hear her, yet not so loud as to grab the attention of any of the other houses. "We are going to be playing a game."

"A game?" Ginny piped up, her features lighting up in anticipation.

"We are going to play 'who can make Harry Potter blush the most' game."

"Are you serious?" Harry, an amused smile plastered on his face, asked just at the same time as Seamus burst out with, "I'm game!"

"I'm serious. I think I know why the Slytherins are acting the way they are, if Malfoy reacts to this game my theory will be confirmed, if not...well then you'll have to work harder in order to win him over, Harry."

And so an obscene and never before seen amount of flirting, groping and about anything that could make a man blush occurred. Harry could have sworn that he had never been so flushed in his entire life and if it wasn't for the fact that it would help him fulfil his dare, he would have escaped from the Great Hall the moment Seamus had placed his hand on his thigh. But Harry was a Gryffindor, a Gryffindor who loved a good dare at that, and so he could not—with good conscience—give up on something he had already started on. Due to this—along with his stubborn streak—he allowed his fellow Gryffindors more freedom than he otherwise would have done.

A rather embarrassing squeak slid past his lips when an especially daring hand came a little too close to his crotch for comfort. He jumped up from his seat and backed away, finally having had enough. Green eyes sent an accusing glare in Hermione's direction before he spun around and walked straight into a quite familiar, warm wall of human flesh.

Strong hands grabbed a hold of his shoulders, stopping Harry from falling to his arse. The warmth of his skin against Harry's was near scorching. And the way the Slytherin seemed to tower over him made it perfectly clear to him why Malfoy ruled his house with such ease. Malfoy had a presence that was hard to deny as anything other than intimidating. The way those grey eyes seemed to crackle with electricity, seeming to change as fast as storm clouds, only served to strengthen this intimidation and Harry found himself glad that he was not the one subjected to that glare. No, the glare was, strangely enough, directed at his gropers.

Another squeak—this one just as embarrassing as the previous one—slipped past his lips when a strong arm slid around his waist, drawing him up against Malfoy's tall body. Standing back to chest Harry could feel something vibrating from Malfoy and into him and suddenly he realised that Malfoy was actually growling. It wasn't a poor attempt either, the sound was purely primal and Harry found himself fighting his own body's reaction in order to keep from shivering at the sound.

"What do you think you are doing, Finnigan?" The words were forced out from between gritted teeth, a clear indication of the blond's restraint. And as if that wasn't enough Harry could feel the Slytherin's muscles flexing in an attempt at holding himself back. Oh yes, Harry was ecstatic that he was not on the receiver end of this.

"What I'm doing is none of your business, Malfoy!" Seamus snapped back, rising from his seat, his hand hovering over his wand—just in case. "I could ask you the same question, however. What the bleeding hell do you think you're doing with our Harry?"

"Jealous?" Malfoy leered as one of his hands moved up Harry's chest, fingers caressing in a fleeting movement.

Tension was high in the air and Harry found it to be quite odd that none of the teachers had reacted to the obvious confrontation occurring. Uncomfortable with the way those fingers were steadily approaching his right nipple, Harry shifted. He shifted away from the fingers and straight back into Malfoy's abdomen—or more importantly—his crotch. Hot breath hit the side of his neck each time the Slytherin inhaled and exhaled.

"Stay still, would you Potter." The blond quietly grunted—only for Harry's ears—as his grip tightened on the Gryffindor's body.

Harry did, despite common belief, possess a healthy amount of self-preservation and knew, due to said self-preservation and the fact that he was a male himself, that any more movement would lead to a rather uncomfortable situation—both for himself and his captor. Knowing this Harry immediately stilled, trying his very best to ignore the shudders he was unable to control each time the warm air created by the Slytherin washed over him.

"Was there something particular you wanted, Malfoy?" Hermione suddenly cut in, silencing all the other Gryffindors with a fierce glare.

"As a matter of fact, yes." He drawled, sneering at all the Gryffindors standing before him as he continued. "It would be very much appreciated if you would all keep your filthy paws off what is mine."

"Yours?" Harry squeaked, gulping as the possessive grip around him turned even more so at his question.

"What did you think would happen when you began displaying that delectable little bum before me, Potter? That I'd just go on and allow you to do the same to others? I think not. A Malfoy does not share." And without further ado the blond buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, sunk his teeth into the skin there before sucking until a dark mark appeared—a great contrast to the raven haired boy's pale flesh.

"See this?" Malfoy addressed the entire Great Hall, pointing to the hickey to emphasize it. "This is my mark, anyone who goes near the possessor of said mark will be headed for a rather painful meeting with me, my foot and my wand. I promise you, something will be going up someone's arse and it's not going up mine."

"It's not possible. It couldn't have been that effective." Harry stated, rubbing frantically at the large bruise standing out on his neck. "I mean, I didn't even do anything. Tell me what happened down there did not happen, 'Mione!"

"I'm sorry to say, but you're too irresistible for your own good, Harry. You have now been officially claimed." She replied, her voice devoid of any sympathy whatsoever, in fact Harry could actually detect a small sliver of smugness within her.

"Are—are you satisfied with this?" He questioned, his face painted in disbelief. "Do you really think this is a good thing? He bit me, the git actually bit me!"

"Oh stop being such a drama queen." Unimpressed she rolled her eyes. "This was what you wanted, wasn't it? You've nearly completed your dare."

"Nearly? What do you mean nearly?"

"Well...he has to work for you, doesn't he? Dean's dare was that you had to make him chase you, up until now I haven't seen any pursuit, have you?" A mischievous grin wormed its way onto her face, revealing how much she was enjoying this.

"I should never have agreed to it. I'm bloody doomed!" Harry whined, burying his face in the palms of his hands.

"You've finally realised what we've known all along then?" Ron dropped down beside him, roughly patting Harry's shoulder as he sent a boyish grin to Hermione. "Took you some time, mate."

"I find it astonishing how only a few words from you can comfort me so, Ron. Wherever do you get it from?"

"Mum's side of the family, no doubt." The Gryffindor mused, his face all seriousness and was a clear indication that he had not picked up on the sarcasm that Harry's words had been dipped in.

"I'm grieved to say that the art of sarcasm is completely lost on you, Ron." Harry commented, grinning at Hermione's snort.

"Oh shut it." Ron threw a pillow at him. "Shouldn't you be worried about what you're going to do with Malfoy?"

"Don't remind me." Harry moaned, his face hidden from view by the thrown pillow.

"Honestly," Hermione sighed. "You don't really have to do much Harry. Just avoid Malfoy for a few days, make sure to flirt with other people in public so he can witness it and you're done."

"Oh...Okay then, I'll do that."

"Good, now shut up and let me read."

And so, true to his words, Harry began the immense task of playing hide and seek with Draco Malfoy.

Adrenaline rushed through him as he ran, throwing fleeting glances over his shoulder. He heaved for breath, weaving his way through the student body—consisting mostly of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs—and ignoring the many glares he received. Harry James Potter was on the run. And no one would stop him. The 'Harry Potter avoids Draco Malfoy' game had turned more serious and exhausting than he had anticipated it to be. No, it wasn't because Harry was bad at hiding—in fact, he was magnificent at it—rather, it was due to the fact that Malfoy had administered the help of his entire house. And so Harry found himself avoiding, not one person, but an entire house filled to the brim with the most cunning, resourceful and determined students in all of the school.

As he had told his friends two nights ago: he was doomed.

The scenario he was currently in reminded him, oddly enough, of an action film he had seen once. Just like the hero of said film Harry jumped, rolled and did anything humanly possible to avoid being caught. It was anything but easy. The Slytherins were cunning, almost too cunning. Whenever Harry made a move to avoid any attack they shot at him it almost seemed as if they had anticipated it, as if they had known he would do so.

A drop of sweat ran down his temple, following the curve of his jaw and making a trail down his throat before disappearing underneath the cover of his robes. Fleetingly, a grimace crossed his face. He was beginning to tire—growing more and more weary with each step he took. He wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. Darting back and forth, green eyes glinted in anxiousness. There was no sign of any hidden passageways for him to hide in, no shadowy corners or alcoves to keep him from view. In other words, there was nowhere he could escape to and recuperate.

His friends, the traitors that they were, had abandoned him. Laughing at the nearly frightened looks he sent them and continuing on their way to class. Even Ron and Hermione had left him, saying that this was a part of his dare and he needed to deal with it on his own. A load of rubbish, that's what that was. It had been more than obvious by the near sadistic smile plastered on her face that Hermione was enjoying it. And Harry had no doubt that if it hadn't been for her classes she would have been following him, watching the hunt with amusement without lifting a single finger to help him. Had he not known better he would have believed her to be of Slytherin material.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall," an unearthly voice suddenly rang through the air. "Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again."

The sound of footsteps approaching reached his ears, growing nearer and nearer with each second that passed. His throat clogged up when he realized that he was trapped, behind him was a gang of Slytherins and before him was what very well could be Draco Malfoy. White teeth latched onto his lower lip, abusing the already abused appendage. With a quiet sigh Harry resigned himself to the inevitable.

"Hello Harry Potter." Green eyes snapped upwards, taking in the blond hair and silvery grey eyes. "A lovely day isn't it? Crumple-Horned Snorkacks revel in weather such as this, me and my father are going hunting for them you know—this summer."

"Luna." Harry breathed out, his entire body relaxing in relief. He should have known, the moment he had heard that odd verse he should have known. Who else in Hogwarts could have known a muggle rhyme and spoken it openly and in such an...airy way? None other than Luna Lovegood, that's who.

"You should turn left around the next corner, there's more places to hide in." Without another word she walked on, looking around herself in wonder—as if she had never seen the hallway before.

Heeding the Ravenclaw's advice Harry turned left...and ran straight into a horribly familiar warm wall of flesh.

A voice, triumphant and smug flowed through the air as warm arms immediately latched onto him, holding his body in a possessive embrace. "Got you."

Five days, thirty-three minutes and fifty seconds, that was how long he had managed to avoid Malfoy. Too little in his opinion, too long in Draco's. And now, when he felt the Slytherin's arms squeezing him like a long lost treasure, he realized that it would probably be the first and last time he managed to do so. All of a sudden Malfoy's fingers seemed to morph into deadly talons, seemingly digging into his skin in a grip never meant to be relinquished. In that very moment something hit him—something that should have occurred to him before he had deigned to accept Dean's stupid dare—a Malfoy was not something to be tripled with, least of all in matters that included pride. It was clear to him now that even if his captor became aware of the circumstances that had led to Harry displaying himself he would never allow the Gryffindor to run away from him—in Malfoy's mind Harry belonged to him and as such he would not be permitted to run off and, as the blond would have put it, fornicate with other people.

In a way it was flattering. Harry had never been wanted in such a way before, he had always watched on as his friends ended up in dramatic romances and he had, apart from that one embarrassing incident with Cho Chang, gotten used to it. So now that he was at the centre of someone's attention—a possessive and determined someone at that—a small part of him couldn't help but enjoy it. Of course, even more of him would have enjoyed it had it been anyone other than Malfoy.

"You should know that I don't particularly enjoy chasing after what is mine. I'd much rather do other much more enjoyable things." The leer was painfully obvious, just as the Slytherin had intended for it to be.

"I'm not a possession." Harry murmured, one hand reaching up to grab onto Malfoy's arm with the intent to remove it. He tightened his grip, his nails digging into his captor's pale flesh, a smug look flitting across his face at the pained grunt he received. "Least of all yours."

"Keep telling yourself that love," Draco said, "eventually you'll fall victim to my awesomeness."

"I have class."

"We all do, but that doesn't stop us from skipping now and then, relax Potter." Malfoy nonchalantly replied.

"No, I mean class, as in having taste, style and manners." Harry didn't miss a beat, barely holding back the grin that threatened to break out on his face when he felt how the Slytherin froze up. This, he was sure, would infuriate Malfoy more than anything else could.

The blond recovered faster than he had anticipated, however, and easily retorted. "Of course you do, anyone who falls for a Malfoy has taste. We are, after all, the best of the best."

"Modest too, it seems." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. With a quiet sigh he relaxed into the Slytherin's grip, there was no use wasting his strength on trying to get free when it was so obvious that Malfoy would not be letting him go. They shuffled backwards, the blond leading them both until Draco's back was resting against the wall. He couldn't deny that the warmth radiating from behind was pleasant, in fact, it was bordering on being more than pleasant.

"See, giving in isn't so bad." Draco triumphantly stated, resting his chin on the top of Harry's head.

"Do you have to sound so smug about it?"

"Yes," a voice suddenly cut in, "do you?"

And so, when Harry didn't need to be rescued, Ron decided to show up. A disgruntled glare was painted on the freckled face. Blue eyes were narrowed in suspicion as they zeroed in on the hands resting on slender hips. There was this sort of 'angry older brother about to beat the shit out of the boyfriend air' surrounding the redhead. And while it was immensely flattering to know that Ron thought of him as a member of his family, Harry couldn't help but to be annoyed that his friend had decided to show up now when he was no longer needed.

"It would be wise to keep those things you call hands to yourself, Malfoy." A sneer, not often seen unless the Slytherin was near, appeared. "It would be unfortunate if something was to happen to them, wouldn't it?"

"Ron..." Harry moved to take a step forward, gritting his teeth in annoyance when Malfoy refused to relinquish his hold—yet again. An odd feeling of deja vu suddenly washed over him.

The tension ran high and just as Harry was sure the two boys would break out into a fight a familiar, and very much welcome, voice joined them. "Honestly Ron, didn't I tell you not to storm off? I told you that Harry was fine. Now stop trying to start a fight and help me carry these books!"

With a scowl, the one she used whenever either Harry or Ron was doing something stupid, she turned to Harry. "You as well Harry, come along! We don't have all day."

Playing it cool, she ignored Malfoy like a master. And whereas Harry had been having troubles extracting himself from the Slytherin's embrace, Hermione grabbed a hold of his wrist and easily yanked him out of it. Her bossiness, the one she always strived to keep from others, shone through like a spotlight in the dark and not even Draco stood in her way.

There was no doubt in his mind that something was about to happen. His entire body was tense in anticipation as his eyes darted here and there, taking in every student, every detail that could be seen within the Great Hall. The Slytherins were, once again, acting strange—as if they were waiting for something. Harry, who knew how to read them, was not at all comforted by the skittish air that surrounded them and the fact that they were doing so little to hide it spoke very much of how unsettled they actually were. And he had this strange feeling that it had something to do with the major hierarchy change that had occurred on the night of doom—as Harry had come to call it. Most likely they had realised that said change would be permanent.

Had it not been for the fact that it involved himself he would have been rejoicing in their confusion. As it was though, he found himself to be right in the middle of it and there was nothing even remotely funny about that. As a matter of fact it was a rather depressing thought—even if he had become a little more at peace with the idea of being with Draco.

"Keep your hands where I can see them, Finnigan!" Speaking of the devil...

Spinning around Harry was greeted with quite an odd scene. Seamus, with an arm outstretched towards Harry's thigh—no doubt another attempt to cop a feel—was frozen still, a wand levelled at the back of his head—the courtesy of one Draco Malfoy. The blond's face was twisted in a snarl, anger practically spitting from his eyes and Harry could easily see how much the Slytherin wanted to fire off a curse or two.

"Now," Draco began, moving to stand between Harry and the flirtatious Gryffindor. "Move away from the deliciousness before I cut something off."

"Had a nice day, Malfoy?" Hermione nonchalantly inquired, continuing to eat her supper as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Very much so Granger, thank you." The Slytherin answered, just as polite and unconcerned as she had.

"Hello, love." Harry blinked as a kiss was placed on his cheek and his pursuer took a seat beside him, astonished at the casualness and seeming normality of it all. The wheels in his brain turned slowly, moaning and groaning until something finally popped. Hermione's eagerness in helping him, Draco's readiness to be fooled into wanting him, the familiarity in which Hermione and Malfoy had addressed each other and the suspiciousness of it all...

"If I didn't know better," He began, looking from one to the other. "I'd have thought that this whole thing was a scheme against me."

"Of course it was." Draco scoffed, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist in order to draw him closer to him. "I've known about the dare all along. You didn't believe that you'd be able to seduce me without my knowing did you? Do you have so little faith in my deviousness?"

"So you're saying that everything was planned?"

"You are dealing with a Malfoy here, Harry. Of course everything was planned, right from the start. I'm a Malfoy after all, and a Malfoy always gets what a Malfoy wants."