Let's set the stage, shall we?

Eighth Year. Wizarding World sans Lord freakin' Voldemort. Everything is lovey dovey. Harry decided to out himself, Ginny decided against hexing his balls away and Draco decided to keep hating everything and everyone.

Oh, you want to know who I am? Just an omnipresent viewer, observing and reporting everything I saw that year. Not a voyeur. Not a peeping Tom. No, not Merlin. I'm just me. And whenever me sees fit, she will add her own thoughts to Malfoy's actions and Potter's words. Because she, is me, is I. And I'm the one telling the story. I cannot read minds. I cannot see the future. I cannot disregard the smuttiness that is the essence of this story. I will not bear the brunt of the blame for the silliness that is to ensue. I cannot change the facts. And once you hear this story, you will be glad that I did not change the facts. You may call me a liar, you may call me a creep, you may call me an angel, you may call me a demon. I am me, me is she, and she watched Harry Potter turn Draco Malfoy gay. Want to know how? Of course you do…

Here's a quick run-through on how it all got started.

Draco Malfoy pushed the bathroom door open, absently straightening his tie. He had fallen asleep in History of Magic. Surprise, surprise. Half the class had fallen asleep. He was groggy and irritable now. In fact, being in Eighth Year was making him irritable. Why on Earth had he been sent back to school?

He must have sadistic parents. Just saying.

He shook his head, resigned. He dropped his bag on the ground and shifted away his robe as he undid the zipper on his trousers.

Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of peeking.

He relaxed once the pressure in his bladder was relieved. He sighed quietly. Then he tilted his head when he heard hurried breathing and shuffling.

Behind the closed door on the fifth stall, Harry Potter was pushed against Michael Corner with tangled tongues and firm arms. They exhaled together, lost in their own worlds.

Draco grimaced and whipped his head forward. Revolted, he quickly finished up. The boys in the stall seemed in no hurry to stop. Draco was privy to the satisfied moans and wet sounds of lips on lips. He stalked to the sinks and ran the water, hoping to drag the two out of it. Unfortunately, they took the rush of water to mean that they could moan louder.

Harry smiled as Michael let out a soft growl. He could hear the water running. And he knew how much of an exhibitionist Michael was.

What a dog…

Draco stared at his repulsed reflection as he washed his hands. He didn't understand homosexuality.

Why would a man want to date another man?
How were they supposed to procreate?
Was it to quell perverted fantasies?

Most likely.

He shut off the faucet and moved to grab his bag.

"Mmm…"

Draco froze. His eyes traveled to the fifth stall without his consent.

Harry was on his toes as he arched into Michael's demanding lips. Michael dropped his arms to Harry's waist.

Draco saw the feet swaying carelessly by the ankles of the other. A breathless laugh escaped the stall. Draco blinked. He straightened up in a flash, shouldering his bag.

"You're really good," a whisper sounded. Draco gagged, moving to the door.

"I've practiced," came the answer. Draco shook his head in disbelief.

As did I. Was that any way to talk to a beau? Boast about past exploits?

"Hmm," was the reply. "Nothing to brag about." Draco recognized that voice.

"Then I guess I'll just have to brag about this, Harry."

Which was followed by an impassioned moan.

And Draco's jaw dropped.

That was Potter.

Potter was moaning like a lovesick girl.

What?

What the hell?

The Harry Potter!

Draco rushed out of the bathroom, darkening.

Can't say I blame him…

During dinner, Draco had to try quite hard to stop from staring at Harry. From the looks of it, his respect for Harry had dropped considerably after the chance encounter. How degrading was it to be reduced to a spineless tool Corner used to fulfill his daily quota of snogs? How pathetic of Potter to stoop to levels so low? Draco shuddered in revulsion. Potter was a nobody in Draco's eyes. Once again.

"You alright?" Theo asked.

Draco responded with a smug sniff. "Just thinking," he answered.

In fact, he couldn't believe that the rest of the school hadn't lost their respect of Harry too. How could they watch Potter be part of a homosexual relationship? Where was the press? Where were the Howlers? Where was the publicity and outrage?

Being the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice had a few positive aspects. Potter could do no wrong.

Draco had been staying away from Harry for months, not sure what an accidental meeting could cause. But this was such good fodder for insults. Draco restrained himself. He was already on the watch list. Getting on Potter's bad side would only spell trouble. Besides, Potter wasn't worth it.

Let the man ruin his name with that Ravenclaw bastard.

Draco met Harry's gaze.

Harry noticed the initial shock in Malfoy's expression change to a look of disgust. "Typical," he muttered. "He hasn't changed a bit, has he?"

"Well… He has stopped talking to us," Hermione noted. "Thank goodness.'

"No kidding," Ron agreed.

"I thought he'd have grown up like everyone else, you know?" Harry said, looking away. "I did keep him out of Azkaban, didn't I?"

"Once a Malfoy, always an ponce," Seamus quipped, causing a soft torrent of chuckles.

Harry wasn't paying attention as he rounded the corner in his hurry to get to his common room. He bumped into Draco. The two split as though they had touched plague.

"Malfoy," Harry said grimly, glowering at the Slytherin.

"Couldn't find your precious boyfriend to grope?" Draco responded, returning the glare.

Harry snorted in derision. "Wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole, ferret," he said bitterly, sidestepping Draco and stomping away.

Draco muttered profanities under his breath as he walked away.

And thus, four months of mutual silence was broken.

Oh goody!

Potter and Malfoy were at each other's throats.

Not literally. Would be quite a sight…

It was worse than before the war. No Dark Lord to fear, no pressures from family, and no more unwritten rules to follow. The words they fought with were underhanded and highly entertaining to listen to. Anything from family, marks, friends, and body parts were under fire.

"You're a bloody blast-ended skank, Potter."

"I'm not the one going around kissing the arses of bloody blast-ended skanks."

"I'm sure you know all about arse kissing!"

"Not as much as you know about getting your arse kicked! Fuck off, Malfoy."

"Gonna go cry to your boyfriend, are you?"

"At least I'm getting some! I bet you've been high and dry for eighteen years. Still a virgin, ferret?"

"I don't need anything up my arse to make my day, Scarhead."

"Oh, no? I could have sworn I had heard you fapping in your dungeon. Nothing up your arse? Impressive."

"Just because you have a dead father doesn't mean you have to find a replacement to call 'Daddy'."

"Oh, that does it!"

Then came the fists, blood, gore, and detentions.

I rather enjoyed these exchanges. Took avid notes. Must say, my vocabulary increased dramatically.

Michael got out of the relationship faster than a Wronski Feint. If being with Harry meant having to endure insults from Draco, he wasn't about to risk his ego or his reputation.

"You're… breaking up?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"It's not you. It's me."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Wasn't that the same line he had used on Ginny? "Really?" he asked deliberately.

"Absolutely," Michael said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

"What about you would make you want to break up with me?" Harry asked, leaning in with mock interest.

Michael looked entirely too guilty. "Um… er… that is… you– and I… we… I mean…"

Harry rolled his eyes before leaving Michael to stammer all by himself.

Yes. Breakups can be that easy. You should try it sometime.

Draco clicked his tongue in frustration, putting down his book. "You guys seriously have nothing better to do than discuss Potter's love life?" he asked his dorm mates. They stared at him as blankly for a moment before returning to gossiping like old spinsters. Draco huffed indignantly, trying quite hard to ignore the words.

"Anyway, I heard Corner wasn't all that exclusive. Potter must've found out," Blaise said conspiringly. "Know who else was involved?"

"You're so full of bull," Theo exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I heard they split without bad blood."

Blaise snorted in derision. "Ever heard of a split without bad blood? No. Something went wrong, obviously. Maybe Potter's a bad lay."

Adrian chocked on his drink, sputtering over the table. "What the hell? Maybe Corner was the bad lay," he said, feeling defensive.

Draco stuck his fingers into his ears. This was a rather uncomfortable situation, talking about Potter's prowess in bed. It was not something Draco liked being caught in the periphery of. He scowled at the words on the page.

"Corner's got a black book as thick as our Transfigurations notes. He's a pretty good lay," Blaise informed them.

Theo grimaced. "Wait, wait, wait! How would you know?" he asked quickly.

Blaise looked coy. "Oh, I have an eye for these things."

Adrian gagged with Theo, turning green. "Please, never explain. Ever."

"So, it's Potter. Besides, Potter's had… what, two girlfriends? Girlfriends. In the past eighteen years. Pathetic. He's a broken egg," Blaise said with finality.

"But… it's Potter, you know?" Theo said, thoughtful. "I mean… Harry Potter. He is supposed to be the ideal guy."

"Obviously not in bed."

Draco jumped to his feet, done with the conversation he wasn't even a part of. He looked daggers at his friends as he packed up his bag. Then he marched out the library without another word.

"What's his problem?" Theo asked, looking after the fair-haired Slytherin.

"Potter's his property," Blaise said nonchalantly, causing Adrian to choke on his drink again.

Yes… My heart skipped a beat too.

Trust Professor Flitwick to pair Harry and Draco together for the duration of the lesson. They were to practice the Disillusionment Charm, casting it on each other. Anyone with half the wit would know that Harry and Draco would end up murdering each other before the end of class. Apparently, Professor Flitwick was a half-wit.

"I'll hex your teeth off if you try anything funny, Malfoy," Harry muttered, keeping his voice low.

"I suppose that's the extent of your magic," Draco responded.

"I'm not the one riding on coattails. I can defend myself."

"By hexing my teeth off. What'll that stop me from doing? Biting you?" Draco asked, cocking up a brow.

"Ugh. Keep your wet dreams to yourself," Harry said, shuddering.

Draco scowled.

Aren't all eighteen-year-old men the same way?

Draco tapped his wand on Harry's head and muttered the charm vehemently. Harry yelped as a shock of electricity passed through him. He shoved Draco back, causing the latter to stumble into the chair awkwardly. "Watch it!" Harry growled, massaging his neck.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor Flitwick interrupted before Draco could retort. "You need to add a slight twitch with your wrist as you are tapping the wand on Mr. Potter's head. Remember that and you'll do fine."

Draco muttered curses under his breath as he stood upright. The rest of the class rolled their eyes, ignoring the interruption. They left the Slytherin and Gryffindor to fight it out in the back of the classroom, returning to their own lesson. Draco waited until the professor was out of earshot to shove Harry in turn. "I hope that hurt, fucktard," he hissed.

Harry gripped his wand and gritted his teeth. "I'll show you how much it hurt," he answered, rapping Draco over the head and uttering the charm. Draco jumped from the electric shock, staggering away from Harry. "Happy?" Harry asked smugly.

Draco took a deep breath to stop from casting a Cruciatus Curse on Harry. He stepped up and dealt Harry the shocking charm again. Harry's knees nearly buckled under the magnitude of electricity flowing through him. He leaned against the wall, heaving and clenching his jaw to keep from spewing loud profanity at Draco. "Guess I forgot to add that twitch again," Draco noted absently, shrugging.

Harry lunged at Draco, nearly whacking his wand against the platinum hair as he spat out the charm. Draco did fall to his knees, winded. The hair on his neck stood on end and crackling pain shot to his fingertips. Harry knelt beside Draco and said, "Guess I forgot too."

Draco snarled, raising his wand in a flash. Harry's fingers wrapped around Draco's wrist. Draco's arm was twisted behind him before he could blink. Harry was inches from him. Draco's murderous expression smoothed to bewilderment. He tried to push Harry back with his free hand. "Fuck. Off," he said, his words tense and angered.

Harry smiled sweetly. "Is that any way to talk to the Boy-Who-Lived, Malfoy?" he asked, bending Draco's arm backward.

"Ah," Draco gasped, wincing as his shoulder protested the strain. "What the fuck, Potter?" he asked in terror.

"Oh, I don't know. How about you stop fucking with me?" Harry muttered. "Or do you want everyone to see you like this?" He finished that question with another sharp tug to Draco's arm.

Draco stifled his shout of pain by biting his lip. "Potter," Draco tried to threaten, his voice giving way halfway through. Harry let go of Draco's wrist. Draco sagged in relief, letting go of Harry. This was humiliation at its best. Draco was quelled by his sworn nemesis with a mere twist of the arm. His face flushed in rage and embarrassment.

Harry was fascinated.

Draco's eyes were downturned so all Harry could see were the fanned lashes that hid mercury irises. The pale face was flushed pink. And the anger Harry had seen was unbidden. Draco was a rather handsome man.

Um… Yeah… No kidding, Watson.

Harry got up and jerked Draco onto his feet. "Gonna whine about it?" he asked sarcastically. Draco turned his rage-filled eyes to Harry again, keeping mum. No matter what he said, Potter seemed to have the upper hand. So might as well say nothing. And keep whatever dignity he had intact. Harry eyed Draco for a beat longer before saying, "Try the charm again."

Draco swallowed hard, raising his wand with his throbbing arm. He added the twitch as he uttered the charm. Harry faded away, starting from the head and ending at the toes of his shoes. Draco relaxed considerably. At least he didn't have to look at Potter now.

Harry noticed Draco's shoulders relaxing once the spell worked. He looked down at himself, fascinated at being able to see nothing. "Weird," he murmured. He looked up at Draco, who was looking through him without expression. Harry felt a slow smirk growing on his face. "It's quite hard to judge distance," he said to Draco as he reached out. His hand pressed against Draco's chest. Draco moved back quickly, eyes wide. Harry wondered what that look meant. He took a step forward, feeling for Draco again. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I don't want your filthy hands on me," Draco spat out.

Harry's smirk widened. "Oh?" he asked. He knew he was in command. Draco was quite obviously terrified of him. He latched onto Draco's tie and tugged him forward. Draco tripped over his feet as he moved against his will. "You're that much of a homophobe?" Harry asked.

Draco froze when he felt Harry's fingers drag up to his neck. He kneed Harry blindly, catching the Gryffindor/Slytherin in the stomach. "Get away from me, you freak," Draco said breathlessly.

Harry coughed, heaving. He kept his eyes on Draco's stubbornly set jaws and clenched fists. He smiled faintly, rubbing his sore tummy. Malfoy would do.

And thus, the fun began…