It was about two months into his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before Draco Malfoy really noticed what was going on with everyone and Harry Potter.

It had all seemed innocent enough at first. Harry Potter had come back from the summer a little different. Noticeably taller, with a few more muscles, a decent haircut and clothes that actually fit. Rumor had it that he'd spent the summer gardening and getting tan and then Granger and the little Weasley girl had given him a makeover or some such rubbish.

Whatever it was, Draco had certainly noticed. It wasn't like he was blind. He just didn't see how it mattered. Potter was still an annoying git - albeit a slightly better looking annoying git, but he was still Potter, and that was what mattered. A rose by any other name, etcetera etcetera.

And if Draco found himself looking at Potter more often, it had nothing to do with his improved looks. Obviously he was looking for flaws to mock and exploit. And if, perhaps, on rare occasion, Draco found that he had an odd urge to reach out and just touch Potter, well, that too was easily explained. What he really wanted was to hit Potter.

And not hit on Potter either.

When school first started up, it was all Potter this and Potter that and OMG have you seen Potter yet? Draco took it in stride; his classmates all had dragon dung for brains anyway, what did they know? This newest bout of Potter worship would pass as it always did.

HOWEVER, one bright and early Monday morning, about two months into seventh year, Draco realized something horrible. He was walking towards his first class, Arithmancy, when he over heard giggling. Craning his next down the next corridor, he could just make out a group of fifth year Ravenclaw girls, holding a copy of the latest Witch Weekly, which had a long article about how the Boy Who Lived was fast becoming the Man Who Lived and looking damn good while doing it.

Not that Draco had read the article twice or anything.

Draco just shook his head and went to walk on when the horrible realization struck home:

No one had stopped talking about Potter.

It was two months into the school year, and no one had stopped talking about Potter.

Grey eyes went wide, his pale face went paler, and his stomach dropped into his shoes. It couldn't really be true, could it? It was just the odd few Potter groupies who were still into him, right? Right?

Wrong.

As the day went on, Draco heard it everywhere: Potter Potter Potter. Potter was all anyone was talking about, Potter was all anyone was looking at, and Potter was all anyone was thinking about.

Draco had walked into his worst nightmare.

'''''''''''''''''''''''

By the time his last class (Potions, thank God) rolled around, Draco was ready to scream. He took his usual seat at his usual table with Pansy, but to his horror even Pansy - faithful, if pug-faced Pansy, had taken to eyeing up Potter.

"You know, I never really took the time to appreciate how nicely Potter has grown up," Pansy said with an admiring glance at Harry, as they waited for class to start.

Draco sputtered indignantly. "He hasn't 'grown up nicely!'" Draco lied. "He's still the same stupid ugly runt he's always been."

"I don't think so, Draco," Pansy said, her eyes still on Potter. "He can't be stupid, he's in our NEWT-level Potions class. He's never been ugly either; I always thought he was rather good-looking. And as for a runt - definitely not a runt. He might be slightly gangly but he's probably grown half a foot in the last couple years. In fact, I bet he's now taller than - "

"Don't. Even. Say it."

" - taller than you, Draco," Pansy finished smugly.

"You're dead to me, Parkinson." And with that Draco snatched up his books and huffed off, dropping into a seat next to Blaise Zabini a few rows back. Blaise was one of his better friends in Slytherin. He was three quarters Italian, with dark hair, dark eyes, a perpetual tan and a really stunning smile. He wasn't tall but he was built, and he spoke English with just a hint of an Italian accent. Naturally, he was quite popular with the ladies.

Unfortunately for them, he was also notoriously gay.

"Blaise," Draco said, slamming his books down on the table.

"Draco," Blaise returned, his eyes fixed on something in the front of the room. Draco followed his gaze suspiciously, in a perfect line, straight to -

"Oh God, Blaise, not you too," Draco groaned, throwing himself in his seat and burying his head in his arms on the desk. "What is it with everyone and Potter?"

"The man is a god, Draco," Blaise said, keeping his eyes locked on Harry. "An Adonis walking on this earth with hair of ebony and eyes of emerald and a body of pure sculpted perfection."

Draco stared at him. Blaise showed him his notes.

"I'm writing him a love sonnet," Blaise explained. "I hope to lure him into my clutches with sappy poetry and then get him to do naughty things to me with his tongue."

Draco looked wildly around for somewhere else to sit, but it was too late: Snape was starting class.

About half-way through class, the moment Snape turned his back to write on the chalkboard, a note folded like an origami horse galloped through the air and landed on Draco and Blaise's table. The note was addressed to The Hot Italian Stallion, so Blaise grabbed it and opened it. Draco leaned over to read:

Dear Blaise,

You, me, some Fettuccini Alfredo and a bottle of Chianti. What do you say?

Theo

Blaise shook his head and sighed, before grabbing his quill and answering.

It's a lost cause, Nott. You know my policy.

BZ

Draco blinked in confusion as Blaise sent the note galloping back to Theodore Nott.

"Your policy?" Draco asked in a whisper, and Blaise nodded.

"My dating policy. I only date Gryffindors."

"WHAT?!"

"Shhhhhh!" half the class hissed, turning around to glare at Draco.

"Sorry," he mouthed. Draco waited until everyone had turned back around and Snape was lecturing full tilt before whispering to Blaise again under his breath.

"What the hell do you mean by that, Blaise?"

"I mean I only date Gryffindors, Draco."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, but why? Gryffindors are nothing but a bunch of idiotic do-gooders. Half of them aren't even purebloods!"

Blaise shrugged. "You wouldn't understand." He turned back to his notes.

Hmmm. Draco had to admit, this was intriguing. Why would a Slytherin willingly date a Gryffindor? He nudged Blaise with an elbow. "Explain it to me." Blaise gave him an appraising look.

"Please?" Draco added.

Draco must have seemed earnest enough, because Blaise gave in. "Alright then," Blaise said, settling into his story but keeping a wary eye on Snape. "When I was young and naïve - "

"Because we're just so old now…"

"Hush, don't interrupt. Now, as I was saying, when I younger and had first discovered I liked men, I began my illustrious journey into the world of relationships. I, naturally, began with those closest to me - my fellow Slytherins."

"As any decent Slytherin should have," Draco said, nodding along.

"Yes," Blaise returned. "That's what I thought too. Slytherins should only date other Slytherins, and so that's what I did. However, I soon discovered, to my dismay, that Slytherin-Slytherin relationships are not what they're cracked up to be."

"What? Why on earth not?"

"Because Slytherins only look out for themselves. That's what we're good at. We're ambitious and cunning and manipulative and have a tendency to screw people over. When both people are like that you constantly worry the other person is just using you."

Draco, against his will, could see Blaise's point. Blaise continued thoughtfully.

"So after getting screwed over by a couple Slytherins, I switched to Hufflepuffs. I thought 'here are boys who will never screw me over.' And I was right - Hufflepuffs are sweet and loyal and marvelous cuddlers."

"But…" Draco prompted, pretending to take notes while listening intently to Blaise's story.

"But not adventurous enough in bed," Blaise admitted. "And after all the kinky Slytherin sex I'd been having, I just couldn't take it plain vanilla anymore. So I switched to Ravenclaws. Ravenclaws are smart, right? All that book learning ought to pay off in the bedroom."

"Does it?" Draco asked with interest.

"Oh yes," Blaise said, dipping his quill in ink. "Ravenclaws have an impressive amount of knowledge on every subject, I can assure you of that."

"So why'd you stop shagging Ravenclaws, then?"

"In the end, Ravenclaws are too clinical. They have the knowledge, but not the passion. And they can't just live in the moment. They want to analyze every sexual experience for future reference. It was always 'so was that good? Next time, do you want it harder or softer? Faster or slower? With or without the handcuffs? Here, let me get my notebook and write that down.'" Blaise shook his head. "So the only house I hadn't tried was the Gryffindors, and on a whim I asked one out. And…well…" Blaise trailed off, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. "There you go."

"There you go what?" Draco demanded. "What do you like so much about Gryffindors?"

Blaise sucked on the end of his quill for a moment. "What's not to like? They're all manly and heroic, and Merlin knows how hot that is. They're chivalrous, so they'll carry your things and open doors for you and stuff. They're ridiculously easy to manipulate, so you always get your way, and they're brave." Here Blaise leaned in close.

"And that's the best part," Blaise whispered to Draco. "They're brave enough to try anything. Maybe they're not as imaginative as a Slytherin, so they don't have kinky ideas, but they'll try anything you suggest."

Draco felt a little flush. "Anything?"

"Anything," Blaise reiterated, licking his lips. "They're very brave in bed. Their house mascot is a lion, Draco. Have you ever seen lions go at it?"

Draco shook his head no. Keeping one wary eye on Snape, Blaise slunk down in his seat. He reached into his bag and pulled out a well-worn yellow magazine, passing it to Draco.

It was a National Wizarding Geographic magazine, and the cover story was Mating Habits on the Plains of the Serengeti. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You carry this with you?" he whispered.

Blaise raised his hands in a gesture of self-defense. "I have to explain myself a lot. Look at page 38."

Draco carefully set the magazine in his lap and began to flip through the pages. It was a wizarding magazine, so naturally the pictures of animals and wizards that adorned its pages were moving.

"35…36…" Draco counted, "37…ah ha, 38."

And then he stared.

It was a full color two page spread of two lions in the throws of mating. They were snarling, biting, passionate creatures of pure lust, going at it like no one and nothing else mattered in the world.

"Whoa," Draco said, still watching the animals. "You're saying that Gryffindors fuck like this?"

"Better," Blaise said smugly. "And that, Draco, is why I want to get my hands on Potter. He is the archetypal Gryffindor. I would bet the Zabini family fortune that he's an animal between the sheets. I could live out my wildest fantasies with that one, and if everything goes according to plan, I will."

And before Draco could collect his thoughts, the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

That night, Draco lay on his back on his bed, staring into the darkness. Surrounded by the snores of his sleeping roommates, his mind went over and over his conversation with Blaise.

I only date Gryffindors…they'll try anything…they're very brave in bed…I could live out my wildest fantasies with that one…

Like any male his age, Draco had his own share of wild fantasies. And like Blaise, his fantasies centered mostly on other guys.

Unlike Blaise, he'd kept his sexual experience to guys from the Slytherin dorms. But he could now appreciate what Blaise was saying. Sex was good with other Slytherins, but you couldn't trust them not to use it against you somehow. You couldn't trust other Slytherins with your deepest fantasies, because you just never knew what might happen.

But Gryffindors you could trust…and they'd be brave enough to try…

Harry Potter is a Gryffindor, you know, his mind pointed out unhelpfully.

Unbidden, the picture of the lions in Blaise's magazine flashed before his eyes. Would Potter be like that? Would he wrestle and roll around? Kiss passionately and maybe even bite a little? Or maybe just pounce, pinning his partner down, hands ripping off clothing until -

Draco promptly cut his thoughts off right there and rolled over to get some sleep.

''''''''''''''''''''''

The next morning, Draco ambled into the Great Hall for breakfast. He felt a little odd and queasy, all these new thoughts about Gryffindors still dancing through his mind.

Blaise was mostly likely off his rocker, Draco had decided. He had to be pulling his leg about this Gryffindors being good in bed thing and, reaching the Slytherin table, he resolved to call him on it.

"You're having me on," he said, sliding onto the bench next to Blaise, who had a quill out and was scribbling notes.

"Sorry?" Blaise asked, looking up from his parchment with a puzzled expression.

"You're having me on," Draco repeated, grabbing a heavily buttered piece of toast. "About Gryffindors being good in bed."

"Oh, that," Blaise said carelessly, rolling up the parchment. "Glad you think so. That leaves more Gryffindors for me."

Toast halfway up to his mouth, Draco turned and stared.

"You…weren't kidding?" he asked incredulously. Blaise shook his head.

"I don't kid. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a tall black-haired bloke with big green eyes who requires my attention. Cheerio."

And with that Blaise pushed off and headed over to the Gryffindor table. Draco watched in toast-forgotten amazement as Blaise walked right up to Potter and whispered something in his ear. Potter's eyebrow raised, and he gave Blaise an odd look. Blaise merely whispered something else in his ear.

Whatever it was, it was good. Draco's amazement doubled as Potter's eyes went huge and he nodded emphatically. Blaise gave him a sort of sad smile, and then left the Great Hall.

''''''''''''''''''''''

"What's going on with you and Potter?" Draco couldn't help asking later that morning in Potions, whispering to Blaise from behind their huge Potions textbooks.

"I'm seducing him," Blaise replied, smoothly turning a page.

"What? How?" Draco asked, not nearly as smooth about turning his page as Blaise was.

Blaise smiled enigmatically. "It's merely a question of knowing what you're doing. For example, you can't seduce a Gryffindor by saying, 'If you want a blowjob, meet me in the Quidditch Locker Room in ten minutes.' You have to be a bit more subtle. You have to lure them in."

"What are you talking about?"

"Gryffindors have hero-complexes, Draco, and they like being brave and chivalrous. They fancy themselves like knights out to rescue damsels in distress. Or strapping young lads in distress, as the case may be. Either way, if you want to seduce a Gryffindor, make them want to rescue you."

"Interesting," Draco replied, watching Snape over the top of his book. "So how are you making Potter want to rescue you?"

Blaise turned another page. "I told him that I need his help because my dad is going to force me to become a Death Eater."

Draco did a full head turn to goggle at him. "Blaise, is that true?"

Blaise gave him a withering look. "Don't be daft, Draco. Of course it's not true. My dad's a professor in Italy. He's much too busy having scandalous affairs with his muggle students to give two whits about the Dark Lord."

"So you lied to Potter?"

Blaise shrugged. "I bent the truth slightly. The point is, he ate it up. Now we're meeting later in private so I can tell him my tale of woe, and then he can gallantly offer his nice, broad shoulder for me to cry on."

Draco was stunned. "And…and that's really going to work?"

"Oh yes," Blaise said, rubbing his hands together eagerly and shooting a glance in Harry's direction. "I should be getting some from everyone's favorite hero by the end of the week."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The day flew by, and pretty soon it was dinner time. Draco was in his usual spot at the Slytherin table, Blaise on his left, Goyle on his right, Pansy and Millicent across from him. He was unenthusiastically munching on some chips, trying to ignore the fact that half his housemates were staring at the Gryffindor table.

"I heard that he's got really amazing stamina," Millicent was saying to Pansy, who was nodding in agreement.

"I heard that too. It would make sense, wouldn't it? I mean, he fought You-Know-Who all those times, I bet that translates into having great stamina."

"Oh, how the fuck do beating the Dark Lord and having stamina have any-fucking-thing to do with each other?" Draco snapped.

The girls gave him haughty looks. "You wouldn't understand," Pansy said loftily, and went back to whispering with Millicent. Draco resisted the urge to stab something with his fork and turned to Blaise.

"How goes the seduction?" he asked.

"Brilliantly," Blaise said, dotting an 'I' on his parchment with a flourish. "I'm almost done with the sonnet. Now what do you think sounds better, my gallant hero or my chivalrous knight?"

"Ummm…" both sounded pretty gay to Draco, but hey, that was probably the idea. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table only to see that Potter was looking at Blaise.

Draco gave Blaise a nudge. "Hey, Potter's looking at you."

"YES!" Blaise said in a triumphant whisper, still bent over his parchment. He immediately schooled his features into a look of almost despair, and then raised his head and met Potter's eyes. He then bit his lip nervously and sent a small, tentative wave in Potter's direction.

Potter smiled back and gave him a reassuring wave in return, before turning back to talk with his Gryffindor friends. Draco was amazed.

"He totally buys your act, doesn't he?"

"Of course," Blaise said, tucking the sonnet carefully in his robes and standing up. "Alright, wish me luck. I'm off to pour my heart out."

"Good luck," Draco said, watching as Blaise left the table and walked out of the hall. A moment later, he saw Potter making his excuses to his Gryffindor friends and disappearing after Blaise.

He sat for a moment, unsure about the feeling that was flowing through him. The chips were sitting very heavily in his stomach, which felt sort of clenched and twisted. He found that part of him wanted Potter to see through Blaise's scheme and reject him.

For some odd reason, he wasn't very happy that Blaise was seducing Potter.

''''''''''''''''''''''

That night, Draco stayed up in the common room, supposedly doing homework but really just waiting for Blaise to get back. He checked his watch. Blaise had been with Potter for two hours.

The uncomfortable sensation in his stomach intensified.

Just then, Blaise strolled into the common room and, spotting Draco, made his way over to Draco's table.

"So, how'd it go?" Draco asked, unable to contain himself.

"Perfectly," Blaise said with a smile, settling into the seat next to Draco. "I even managed a few tears. And he was so sweet and sympathetic." Blaise stretched out, leaning back in his chair until it balanced precariously on two legs.

Draco had the odd urge to kick the legs of the chair out and watch Blaise fall.

"So…did you snog him?" Draco asked, hoping his voice didn't sound as sullen as he felt.

Blaise shook his head. "No. He did touch my arm several times to reassure me, though. I could have squealed. And he asked me on a date."

"WHAT?" Please don't be true, please don't be true…

"Well, okay, it's not a date," Blaise admitted reluctantly, letting his chair fall forward onto four legs. "He just offered to talk to me again tomorrow." Blaise gave a happy sigh. "He's exactly like I thought he would be."

"What'd you think he'd be like?" Draco asked, now drawing idly on his homework with his quill.

"Earnest and passionate. Merlin, these Gyffindor hero-types are so hot. I told him I was scared, and he actually said the words don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you. I almost came in my pants."

Draco felt his grip on his quill tighten, and he tried to take a couple calming breaths as Blaise stood up. "Well, I'm off to bed," Blaise said with a yawn. "Seducing Gryffindors is hard work. Coming?"

Draco waved him on. "Yeah, I'll be there in a sec."

Blaise nodded and slipped out of the common room, heading to the bedroom they shared with Crabbe, Nott, and Goyle.

Draco sat for a moment, staring into space. His stomach was still in knots, and he had nearly snapped his quill by gripping it too tight. He kept picturing Blaise and Potter together in some dark room, Blaise acting upset, saying I'm scared and Potter replying in his stupid, gallant Gryffindor way don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you.

And then maybe Potter had put a hand on Blaise's arm to reassure him, and he and Blaise had looked into each other's eyes and -

A loud snap brought Draco back to reality.

He had broken his quill.

''''''''''''''''''''

Potions again the next day. This time, Draco and Blaise were working on a potion together, Draco chopping ingredients and Blaise stirring.

"So Blaise," Draco said, slicing their roots into nice, even pieces, "the other day, when you said Gryffindors would do anything in bed, did you really mean anything?"

"Oh yes," Blaise said, stirring the cauldron counter-clockwise. "I meant anything."

"But like…anything anything?"

"Yes. Anything your little heart desires. Why, thinking of giving Gryffindors a go?" Blaise said, raising an eyebrow in Draco's direction.

Draco's cheeks flushed slightly pink. "Uh…well…you know, just keeping my options open."

Blaise grinned wickedly. "I see. Draco Malfoy, I do believe I've converted you to the Dark Side of the Force."

"The what?"

Blaise shook his head. "Sorry, muggle thing."

"Muggle thing? Blaise, where on earth - "

"I had the biggest crush on Dean Thomas a couple months ago. I had to learn all this muggle stuff to properly seduce him. Actually," Blaise said, giving Draco an appraising look, "If you're thinking about Gryffindors you should consider him. He's a bloody brilliant shag."

Draco shot a look in Dean's direction. He was very good-looking, and he didn't seem like a total idiot, and if what Blaise was saying was true…

But then his gaze drifted past Dean to Potter, who was working with the Weasel, the two of them snickering quietly together…

It wasn't his stomach this time but his heart that clenched painfully, and Draco shook his head.

"Nah, I don't think I'm quite ready for that."

Blaise shrugged. "Whatever."

When the bell rang and they left the classroom, Blaise ran up ahead to catch up with Potter. Draco tried to not to watch as Blaise and Potter chatted together for a moment, but it was no use. He really didn't want to watch, but he couldn't seem to look away either.

When Blaise stood on his toes to whisper in taller boy's ear, putting his hand on Potter's arm at the same time, Draco began to clench his fists. Luckily, it was only a moment, and then Blaise and Potter were parting ways and Blaise came back to walk next to Draco.

"So, got to feel up your favorite Gryffindor, then?" Draco spat, surprising himself. Blaise didn't seem to notice Draco's annoyance.

"Yes. He's got great arms. I think he's been working out," Blaise said, licking his lips. "I'd like to give him a workout like he's never had before."

"Oh, I'm sure Potter's had that kind of workout before. Several times," Draco muttered, trying to understand why his stomach felt all queasy again.

Blaise looked at him in surprise. "Actually, no he hasn't. You didn't know that?"

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Potter. He hasn't ever had a "workout" of the kind you and I prefer before."

"Potter's never been with a boy?"

Blaise shook his head. "Nope. Just think, I get to be his first."

Draco was suddenly fighting an overwhelming urge to urge to hit Blaise.

Hard.

'''''''''''''''''''

That evening, Draco didn't bother to pretend he was doing his homework. Instead he just sat at his table, drawing listlessly on his parchment. He stared at the entrance to the common room, willing Blaise to come back from his meeting with Potter.

Preferably to come back having been completely rejected, but whatever.

Finally, around ten, Blaise sauntered back in through the stone wall and made a beeline for Draco's table.

"He kissed me," Blaise said triumphantly.

Draco snapped his second quill in twenty-four hours.

"Bugger," he swore, looking at the broken pieces in his hand. "So…Potter kissed you?"

"Well, just on the cheek," Blaise clarified, putting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in his hand.

"Oh," said Draco, feeling ever so slightly relieved. "Bet you're ten kinds of thrilled, then?" He was pleased he didn't sound half as irritable as he felt.

"Oh yes," Blaise agreed, and then hesitated. "Except…well, okay, maybe it wasn't so much a kiss as a possibly accidental brush of his lips against my cheek during a hug. But still, it's nothing to sneeze at."

"What exactly happened?" Draco asked, curiously overcome by a need to know exactly what had transpired between Potter and Blaise.

"Well, we were just about to leave, and I was saying some rubbish about how he understood me so well and how I felt really safe around him, you know, just playing up the damsel in distress bit. I was also playing with his hair a little - he has the nicest hair, don't you think?"

Draco made a non-committal shrug. "Looks like a rat's nest if you ask me." He deliberately didn't say that his own fingers had felt a sort of inexplicable itch lately to bury themselves in Potter's hair.

"But it's so cute, all messy and shiny and really soft…but never mind. Anyway, we're about to leave, so I ask if I can have a hug. And so he gives me a hug, and then his lips sort of brush my cheek as he says it'll all work out, I promise. So I don't know if it was an accident, but I like to think he meant it."

Oh, that was an accident, Draco's subconscious insisted. He felt inordinately cheered by the thought.

"Either way, he was lovely," Blaise said in a dreamy sort of voice. "I just about wrecked everything by snogging him full on right there, but luckily I held off. After all, I've got big things planned. Wouldn't want to blow it when I'm so close."

"So, what exactly do you have planned for Potter?" Draco asked, trying to look like he didn't actually care when in truth he was clenching his fists again. "You thinking he'll make a good boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Blaise asked, wrinkling his nose. "Oh, God no. I don't want a boyfriend. I just want him to shag me. "

"But don't you think Potter is the boyfriend type?"

"Oh yes, Potter's definitely the boyfriend type. He'd make the perfect boyfriend. But since when have I been the boyfriend type?"

Blaise had a point. Still, Draco pressed on. "But Blaise, I mean, if you're going to shag won't Potter want to be boyfriends first?"

Blaise sighed. "Yes, that is the one major drawback to dating Gryffindors. They're so ­old-fashioned. It's rather endearing but a total pain at the same time. You have to tell them all these lies about how they're the one and you really care about them and shit to get them to shag you. And then there's usually a messy fight when you tell them to bug off afterward. But hey, the sex is great, so it makes it worth it."

"So, that's it?" Draco asked in shock. "You're just going to shag once with Potter and then dump him?"

Blaise looked thoughtful. "Oh, I'll shag him more than once. I've got a list of things I've been wanting to try, so once we're through the list then I'll probably end things. I mean, he's sweet and all, but I can't afford to be tied down to one man. He'll get over it."

Now Draco felt really weird. Part of him was relieved that Blaise wasn't really interested in Potter beyond sex, and part of him was indignant and horrified that he would use Potter in such a callous manner.

"Let me see your list," Draco said, putting out a hand. Blaise obligingly reached into his robes and pulled out a list. Draco scanned it and his jaw dropped.

"Blaise, Potter has never been with a guy before. You can't ask him to do this stuff!"

"Sure I can. He won't know any better. And just think how adventurous he'll be afterwards."

"He'll be devastated afterwards, Blaise. Potter's not the kind of guy you can just shag and then leave. Especially if you plan to shag like this."

Blaise shrugged. "It's not my problem if he's the sensitive type." He took his list back from a speechless Draco. "Coming to bed?"

"In a minute." Blaise left the common room, leaving Draco in an agitated state.

What was wrong with him? Why did he care that Blaise was planning to screw Potter over? It wasn't any of his business. But Draco couldn't help it; he was angry. Hell, he was beyond angry. He was furious. All of the uncomfortable feelings he'd been having the last few days had coalesced into one hard lump in the pit of his stomach, and he glanced down at the parchment he'd been doodling on the last couple days.

It was all a mass of jagged lines, very indicative of how irritable he'd been. The lines were sharp and zig-zagged a bit and…

Wait.

With horrible clarity, Draco suddenly realized what he'd been drawing all week.

Lightning bolts.

And with a powerful epiphany, Draco understood what was wrong.

He liked Potter.

He'd been jealous of Blaise all week. That was what those uncomfortable feelings in his stomach had been. He had wanted Blaise to fail in seducing Potter because he wanted Potter for himself.

He, unbelievably, liked Potter, stupid Harry Potter, who was annoying and irritating and a stupid Gryffindor do-gooder who also happened to be brave and sweet and have really cute hair.

And now Blaise was planning to completely screw over the guy Draco liked, and Draco was naturally pissed off.

Well fuck you, Blaise, Draco thought to himself, standing up. Potter's mine now and it'll be a cold day in hell before I let you touch him.

''''''''''''''''''''''

"Potter!"

Draco watched as Harry and Weasley stopped on their rush to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Malfoy?" Weasley asked, upon spotting Draco in the doorway of an empty classroom. His eyes narrowed. "What the hell do you want?"

"To talk to Potter," Draco said smoothly, opening the door to the classroom a bit wider and gesturing inside. "Alone," he finished pointedly.

The Weasel looked ready to launch into one of his tiresome diatribes about Draco's character, but Harry just put a hand on his arm.

"It's okay, I'm not afraid of him," Harry said reassuringly. "I've got my wand. Go join Hermione and tell her I'll be there in a second."

Weasley seemed to waffle for a moment, wanting to argue, but finally he turned to keep walking.

"If you hurt him you're dead, Ferret," he snarled as he left.

Draco just rolled his eyes and turned to Harry, wondering idly why Harry seemed to be touching everyone's arm but his.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry's voice was cold, and the tone made Draco flinch slightly. He doubted Harry talked to Blaise that way. Still, that was exactly the point, and Draco had to make Harry see that.

"Inside, Potter, I don't want to be overheard," he said in what he hoped was a casual manner. The longstanding truth is that most people, when face-to-face with their crush, don't always act in the most casual of manners, but Draco was doing his best.

Harry looked suspicious, but nevertheless walked into the classroom after Draco. His wand was in his hand, and Draco was very aware that Harry had an impressive arsenal of hexes and jinxes ready to go if he needed them.

But for once he was trying to help the stupid Gryffindor, not brass him off.

Harry had shut the door to the classroom and was now leaning against it and eyeing Draco expectantly. "You said you wanted to talk. So talk."

Draco took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about Blaise."

Well, that obviously wasn't what Harry had been expecting. "What?" he said, gaping slightly, green eyes going wide behind his glasses.

"I want to talk about Blaise, Potter," Draco said, folding his arms over his chest. "Do you like him?"

Now Harry looked even more shocked. "What?" he said again. Draco rolled his eyes.

"That's twice you've said what in the last thirty seconds Potter," he said testily. "It's a simple question. Do you like Blaise?"

Harry finally found his tongue. "Is this what you dragged me in here to talk about? Whether or not I like Blaise?"

"Stop answering a question with a question! A simple yes or no would suffice. Do. You. Like. Blaise?" Draco spat, the jealousy bubbling just under the surface making his replies curt and short.

Harry glared at him. "I fail to see how the answer to that question is in any way, shape, or form any of your business."

The man had a point. It really wasn't. But damn it, Draco was making it his business. "Look, Potter, I only ask because believe it or not I'm a little bit concerned about your stupid, fragile Gryffindor heart that you're so fond of wearing on your sleeve."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Okay, now I know I'm hearing things. I could have sworn you just used the words concerned and Potter in the same sentence."

Oh, that was rather embarrassing. "Look, just get over it and listen to me, would you?" Draco snapped.

Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out "Is it true that you've never fucked a boy before?"

Harry promptly flushed a brilliant shade of pink and stared at Draco. His mouth appeared to be moving but no sound was coming out.

Some tiny part of Draco's mind registered that Harry was kind of cute was he was scandalized.

"Malfoy," Harry said, finally recovering. "Just when I think you couldn't possibly be getting any weirder, you go and say something like that?"

Draco cursed his loose tongue, but went with it. "I'll assume, then, you are, as rumor has it, a man-virgin. Alright, then here's the deal. Blaise is trying to seduce you and become your first male shag. Did you know?"

Draco gave the again-rendered-speechless Harry the once over. "I shall assume from your impression of a goldfish that you didn't know that. Well, he is. He made up that whole story about his dad wanting to force him into becoming a Death Eater so he could get in your pants."

Harry seemed completely stunned. "Blaise is…"

"Seducing you, yes. Plotting to debauch you, yes. Planning to make you his man-whore, yes. Essentially, he wants to fuck you, and in some of the most deviant ways I ever had the pleasure of hearing about."

"Oh my God." Harry stared wide-eyed at him. "How do you know all this?"

"He told me. He's been giving me a running commentary on how his seduction of you has been going. And as to how I know about the deviant sex - he made a list and showed it to me," Draco admitted.

"A list? He made a list?"

"Yes."

"A bloody list?"

"YES. And believe me, it's not a list of things I'd recommend for first timers."

"A list," Harry said, shaking his head. "He made a bloody list." He took a few steps away from the door and sat down heavily on one of the desks. "You know, this is one of the weirdest conversations I've ever had."

"It's not over yet," Draco asked, taking a seat on a desk next to Harry. "Look, I think you should know something else. Blaise is a total phony. Not only did he lie to you about his dad, but he's just going to use you for sex and then dump you. You can't trust him at all, Potter." Draco's expression softened as Harry began to chew on his bottom lip.

"It's just too weird for me to take in," Harry finally said, looking at up Draco with those enormous, ridiculously green eyes. "Blaise trying to seduce me…you warning me about it…Blaise making a list of deviant sex acts...I don't know what to think."

Draco suddenly didn't know what to think either. His eyes were fixed on where Harry's bottom lip was being worried between his teeth. Harry looked…almost vulnerable, something he never would have thought the Boy Who Lived would look. But he did, and there it was, and Draco felt a tug in his heart as he took in Harry's messy hair, the way he was staring into space, that damnable lip between his teeth.

And then, maybe because Harry was looking someway that Draco never thought he'd look, Draco did something he never thought he'd do.

He leaned slightly sideways across the desk and kissed Harry Potter.

It was a soft, sweet kiss, not the kind of first kiss he would have imagined him and Potter sharing. Harry's lips were slightly chapped under his own soft ones, and the skin slightly rough on his upper lip. But it felt better than anything else Draco had felt before, and Draco got lost in the sweetness of it. This was what he had been wanting, and it was perfect. Harry was pressing back against him slightly, not quite kissing back but certainly not refusing it either.

Draco hesitantly parted his lips and tentatively traced Harry's lips with his tongue.

That seemed to jolt the dazed Gryffindor awake.

Harry pulled back abruptly, leaving Draco to make a small whimper of disappointment. He opened his eyes to find Harry staring at him accusingly.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, his hand flying up to his lips and touching them. His tone was suspicious, and it made Draco wince.

"I don't know," he finally said, looking at Harry imploringly. "I just…I've wanted to for awhile now…"

But Harry was standing up. "You're a liar," he said, now breathing heavily. "You made up all that shit about Blaise so I'd fall for you, didn't you? So I'd think you'd changed and that you were concerned about me and wanted to save me from becoming Blaise's man-whore when really it was all just a set-up. What were you going to do, kiss me and then make Potter loves Malfoy badges so you could laugh at me behind my back?"

"What? No!" Draco said, standing up as well. This was suddenly going horribly wrong and Draco didn't know how to fix it. "Look, I'm sorry I kissed you, but everything I said about Blaise was the truth. You have to believe me," he said pleadingly.

"I don't have to do anything," Harry said furiously, now backing up until he reached the door. "I'm leaving now. I knew you were an arsehole Malfoy, but this was low, even for you."

Harry wrenched open the door. Draco made one last attempt. "Harry, please listen - "

But Harry didn't listen, he just gave Draco one last dirty look and left. Draco slumped down on the desk and buried his face in his hands in despair.

He was so distraught, he didn't even realize he'd actually called Potter Harry.

''''''''''''''''''

Draco had completely lost his appetite after the exchange with Potter, so he slunk despondently back to his common room to sulk. The one time, the one time, he tried to do something nice, it had blown up in his face.

Well, see if he'd ever try to do something nice for Potter again. Ungrateful prat.

And yet, after dinner, when most of his housemates had returned and Blaise Zabini was conspicuously missing, Draco began to panic. Blaise and Harry had been meeting after dinner every night this week; why should tonight be any different?

And if Harry was still pissed about Draco's supposed maligning of Blaise, he might be more receptive to the Italian's advances then ever. Draco found himself chewing nervously on the end of his third new quill that week.

Curfew came and went, and still no sign of Blaise. Draco's heart was aching now. He had blown it. He had one chance to save Harry from Blaise's scheming and future heartbreak, and he'd completely buggered it up.

Suddenly, the wall to the common room slid open and Blaise stormed in, looking highly pissed off.

Draco's heart gave a little leap.

Blaise strode all the way over to Draco's table and practically threw himself into the seat. "Fucking Gryffindors," he muttered under his breath.

Draco tried to not to get his hopes up too high as he casually asked, "Something went wrong with Potter?"

"You could say that," Blaise snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and looking murderous. "Everything was going according to plan. I had given him the sonnet, confessed my "feelings"" he said, making quotation marks with his fingers, "and everything. I figured I had him in the palm of my hand, so I leaned in and kissed him."

Draco sucked in his breath. "Then what?"

"Then we snog for a few of the best moments of my life, and then he pulls back and says Blaise, what exactly is going on here? And so of course I say some shit about how I really like him and I think he'd make a great boyfriend and don't worry, it's not just about sex. And he looks at me like he's not convinced, so I say Harry, I want to be with you. You're the one who saved me from my dad. You're my hero."

Blaise snorted. "That line would have given your average Gryffindor a stiffie in exactly 2.5 seconds. Potter, however, narrows those goddamn eyes at me and then says but your dad's not really a Death Eater. He's a professor in Italy."

Draco's shock was totally real. He hadn't told Potter that. Where on earth did Potter learn that?

Blaise was shaking his head. "So of course I was like what? What are you talking about? Professor? Italy? Affairs with muggle students? You know, scoff scoff, deny deny. But it was too late. Somehow he found out the truth, and my game was up." Blaise scowled. "And I was so close. I was going to spend the next month getting shagged in the most sinful of ways, and now it's been completely buggered up."

Blaise reached into his pocket and withdrew the parchment with his sex list on it. "My list is useless now," he said, crumpling it up and throwing it on the table. "Bloody Gryffindors. Too bloody sexy and righteous for their own good."

He shoved back from the table in a disgruntled sort of fashion and stood up. "I'm going to bed. See you."

"See you," Draco returned distractedly, as Blaise left the room. His mind was whirling and there was a smile on his face. Just before getting up to go to bed himself, he picked up the crumpled up form of Blaise's list and slipped it into the pocket of his robe.

''''''''''''''''''''

"Malfoy!"

Draco bit back a grin and instead assumed a wounded expression. "What Potter? Come to accuse me of telling you more lies?"

Draco relished the sheepish expression that crossed Harry's face. He had spent the whole day acting like a wronged innocent, avoiding Potter. Now it was just before dinner, and Potter had finally managed to track him down.

"Malfoy, I'm really sorry," Harry said earnestly. "I shouldn't have told you off. You were absolutely right."

"Of course I was. I was just trying to be nice and warn you," Draco said righteously. "Fat lot of good it did me, what with you yelling at me and all."

Draco knew he wasn't being nice now, but could he help it if he wanted to see the Boy Who Lived grovel for forgiveness a bit?

"Listen, I don't know what else to say, except that you haven't given me many reasons to trust you over the years. But still, I'm so sorry I doubted you. How can I make it up to you?"

Draco thought this over. "Say you're really sorry."

"I'm really sorry."

"Really really sorry."

"Really, really, honest-to-God, cross my heart sorry from the very bottom of my heart. Forgive me?" Harry said, big green eyes pleading at Draco imploringly. Draco could feel himself softening in a sickeningly un-Malfoy-like way.

"Oh, fine," Draco said, giving in to the power of those pretty green eyes. "You're forgiven."

Harry smiled in relief, and Draco found himself smiling back.

"So…um…are you going to dinner now?" Harry asked, looking slightly nervous all of a sudden.

"Yes," Draco responded. "You?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Great. Well, enjoy your dinner." He turned to go.

"Wait!"

Draco sighed, then turned around slowly. "What?"

"Um…I had a question…" Harry said, licking his lips. He seemed rather agitated. "I just…well…that is…I just wanted to know…"

"Spit it out, Potter."

"Why'd you kiss me yesterday?" Harry suddenly blurted out.

To his horror, Draco could feel his cheeks flushing slightly. "I believe I told you at the time," he said, somewhat stiffly.

"Oh. So you…uh….you…" Harry was chewing on his bottom lip again, and damn it, if he didn't quit looking so cute Draco was going kiss him again.

"Look, are you going to stand here and humiliate me all evening, or can I go have my dinner?" Draco said, somewhat crossly, wanting to get away and sulk about Potter not returning his feelings without the risk of ravishing said Potter.

"Well, I was just thinking….since you kissed me last time…it only seems fair, really…if I get a turn."

Draco froze. "What did you just say?"

Now Harry was the one with slightly pink cheeks, but with true Gryffindor bravery he forged ahead. "Um…you kissed me, so I think it'd be fair if I had a chance to kiss you. Don't you think?"

Draco thought that he had never heard of anything fairer in his life.

"You know, you might be on to something," he said casually. Harry looked positively delighted at this response and took a couple eager steps toward Draco.

A mischievous thought struck the Slytherin. "You want to kiss me?" he said casually, and Harry nodded, getting even closer to Draco

"You really want to kiss me?" Draco asked again, as Harry closed the last bit of distance and stopped only a few inches away.

"Yes," Harry whispered, reaching out to touch Draco's hair.

"Well then," Draco breathed, in his most seductive voice, "you're going to have to catch me."

And then he ran.

There was a moment of stunned silence behind him, and then -

"You stupid wanker!" he heard Harry shout with a laugh, and then the chase was on.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

Draco managed to make it up two flights of stairs and down one corridor before Harry caught him.

One second he was running, and then the next thing he knew he was being tackled. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and Draco crashed onto the floor, Harry underneath him to break his fall, and then they were rolling over and over until finally Harry came to rest on top.

"Gotcha," Harry said playfully, and then Harry's lips descended on his own. Draco moaned at the contact, Harry's slightly rough upper lip scratching against his own, and then Harry's tongue was in his mouth, hot, wet, licking Draco's lips and twirling with Draco's tongue.

And then…ooooh. Draco's eyes rolled back in his head as Harry fastened his lips to Draco's neck, sucking gently, nipping slightly with his teeth and Draco just thought wow, he bites and then couldn't think anymore because Harry was doing something to his ear and who knew that ears could feel like that…

And then the most amazing thing ever happened. Harry slid around until his body fit between Draco's legs and then he moved, and Draco gasped out loud as fire shot up from his groin throughout his body.

"Ohgod…"

"Is that good?" Harry whispered, mouth still against Draco's ear. "Tell me. I don't know what I'm doing, but I'll do anything you want me to do."

Harry's words sent the same fire through his veins as his actions. "Oh fuck that's hot," he panted. "Just…do that again…"

"What, this?" And Harry thrust against him again. Draco groaned.

"Yes…fuck, Harry," he said, bringing his hands up to tangle in the other boy's hair.

Harry moved to kiss him hard on the mouth. "That's how I knew," he said against Draco's lips.

"Wha…?" Draco said inarticulately, as Harry began to place small kisses all over his face.

"That's how I knew you might be telling me the truth about Blaise," Harry explained. "You called me Harry. You've never done that before." Then he suddenly looked a bit mischievous. "Let's see if I can make you call me Harry again, shall we?"

And he ground down against Draco again, who moaned loudly.

"Harry…oh, don't stop, please," he whimpered. Part of him wondered when he had allowed a Gryffindor to reduce him to a whimpering pile of Malfoy mush, but that part was quickly silenced when Harry started doing that thing to his ear again.

"Won't stop…I wanted you so much," Harry confessed into Draco's ear.

"You what?"

"Wanted…mmm…you. Not Blaise. But I never thought…ohgod…never thought…oh, oh dothatagainpleaseonemoretime…"

"Never thought I'd go for it?" Draco asked, repeating the motion he'd just made with the hand he'd managed to shove between their bodies.

"Ohgod…yes…exactly…" Harry panted. "But you did…and…and…ohgod…" And with that he kissed Draco again, deeply, and then over the next couple minutes both boys became excessively glad of the fact that everyone else was down at dinner.

''''''''''''''''''''

Afterwards, the two lay panting together, Harry collapsed on top of Draco, nose buried in his neck. Draco was stroking him up and down his back, occasionally coming up to pet his messy hair.

Harry finally propped himself up to look at Draco a bit sheepishly. "Sorry I just tackled you like that. I tend to get a bit carried away."

"I'm not complaining," Draco said impishly. Indeed, he was rather wishing he'd discovered Gyrffindors a bit sooner, if impulsiveness like that was a common trait.

Then again, he thought, as he took in Harry's ridiculous hair and bright eyes and that silly smitten grin on his face, maybe he just wished he'd discovered Harry a bit sooner.

"Was that okay?" Harry said, sounding very uncertain. "I meant it when I said I didn't know what I was doing, and - "

"It was better than okay, so stop worrying. It was brilliant."

"Oh." Harry sounded relieved. He slid off Draco to one side and propped himself up on one arm "So you're not upset that I've got no experience with blokes, then?"

"Course not," Draco said reassuringly, rolling onto his side to face Harry. "Believe me, I'll be happy to teach you. But right now I have a question for you. How did you find out that Blaise's dad was really a professor in Italy?"

"Well, after I realized that you had called me Harry, I thought maybe I ought to give you the benefit of the doubt. So I asked Hermione if Blaise's dad was really a Death Eater."

"You asked Granger?"

"Well, yeah. Hermione knows everything," Harry said solemnly. "So then she just gave me a funny look and said where did you hear that crap? Zabini Senior is a professor in Italy. Don't you remember the scandal last year when he slept with Justin Finch-Fletchely's muggle cousin during her semester abroad? So there it was and I realized you'd been telling the truth and you were just trying to save me."

"I wasn't trying to save you, Potter," Draco said haughtily. "You make it sound so Gryffindor."

Harry burst out laughing. "It was very Grffindor of you, actually. Heroic Draco Malfoy trying to protect Innocent Harry Potter from the clutches of Big Bad Blaise Zabini."

"It was nothing of the sort," Draco sniffed. "I was merely saving your virtue so I could debauch you myself."

"By all means," Harry said playfully. "Debauch away. But it doesn't change the fact that you're my hero," he cooed.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Is this how you Gryffindors repay your saviors, then? Mocking them for having the common decency not to send virgins to be turned into man-whores overnight?"

Harry grinned. "Maybe I want to be a man-whore," he said suggestively. "How bad could it be?"

"Potter, if you had seen Blaise's list, you would understand just how bad it can be. And you'd be thanking me a million times over for saving you from his clutches."

"Aww, look at you being all chivalrous," Harry cooed again. "You can stop pretending that what Blaise wanted was all that deviant, Draco. I think you're making that up to impress me."

"Oh, you think so?" And here Draco sat up and pulled out the parchment that was still wadded up in the pocket of his schoolrobe. He waved it in Harry's face. "Look at this, Potter. Proof-positive. This is Blaise's list of stuff he was planning to do with you."

"It is?" Harry said, looking thunderstruck. He scrambled into a sitting position next to Draco and held out his hand. "Let me see it."

"What? No way. I'm not letting your virgin eyes see this list."

"Oh, stop being so over-protective. Give me the list."

"No."

"Malfoy - "

"NO, Potter. Trust me; it's for your own good."

"Give…me…that….argh…"

"No…hey…stop that….POTTER!"

A wrestling match had ensued, both boys vying for the parchment. Finally, in a stroke of dumb luck (NOT because Harry had actually grown taller than Draco, thank you very much), Harry managed to snatch the paper away.

"HA!" he said triumphantly, jumping to his feet. He quickly unfolded the parchment.

"Don't know why you want to see it," Draco said sulkily, standing up and leaning against the wall. "You're not going to even know what half that stuff is."

Harry read the title out loud: "Blaise Zabini's List of Things He Wants Harry Potter to Do to Him."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Whoa," was all he said, before beginning to read.

Draco watched as Harry's eyebrows rose higher and higher before finally almost disappearing into his hair.

And then suddenly - "Have you got a quill?"

Draco was more than puzzled, but he dug into his pocket and passed Harry his mercifully unbroken quill. He watched in amazement as Harry began methodically marking the parchment.

"Number 1 is fine, 2 fine, 3's rather good actually…oh, four's got to go, I'm pretty sure that's illegal…5,6, and 7 stay on until I know what they are…same goes for 8…9 is good, 10 is very, very good…11 also stays until I know what it is…ditto for 12…and 13…14 has to go, unless - Hey Draco, do you have a French Maid outfit?"

Numbly, Draco shook his head.

Harry made a clucking noise. "Me neither…so 14's out…I think I know what 15 is, so we'll keep that…16 and 17 are excellent…and 18 through 24 stay until Draco explains them to me. Now let me just add a couple extras, and of course, can't forget the most important thing…"

Harry scratched the quill across the bottom of the paper for a few moments, then made a few scribbles, wrote something new and passed the list to Draco.

The list now titled Draco Malfoy's List of Things Harry Potter is Going to Do to Him.

Draco looked at the list and then at Harry in shock.

"What?" Harry said innocently.

"You…but you…but…but Harry!" Draco blurted out. "This list should have horrified you! You're not supposed to want to do kinky things like this! You're a Gryffindor!"

"Ah, yes, but Draco," Harry said mysteriously, "the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

And then giving Draco one last, breath-stealing kiss, Harry took off for the Great Hall.

'''''''''''''

Draco continued to stare at the parchment as Harry left, wonder filling his mind.

Because maybe, in the end, it wasn't about being a Gryffindor, or a Slytherin, or a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw, or anything else for that matter. Maybe it was just about finding that person that you could really connect with, no matter what house or what walk of life they were from. Maybe it was all about finding love wherever it lurked, houses and classifications and stereotypes be damned.

Or maybe Harry Potter was just one hell of a piece of work.

With a grin he couldn't fight off, Draco pocketed his new list and headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

''''' Finite! '''''