A.N. - This takes place 7th year and is a bit AU. Who wants to fight a war when you can write about silly relationships? This is going to focus mainly on the Harry/Draco/ possible others storyline. It's slash, just so you know. I'm also including a triangle between Hermione, Ron, and Snape, plus some other side character fun.

Upon entering his seventh year, Draco knew one thing, and one thing only; he had to get laid. The defeat of Voldemort the previous summer had really opened up his schedule, and Draco found himself able to focus on the lighter things in life. Very few had expected the final showdown to come so soon, and even fewer expected Voldemort's final blow to come from Albus Dumbledore. Everyone knew the old Headmaster hadn't been in the best health, and while Harry Potter fought valiantly, it took Dumbledore to administer the long awaited killing curse.

The fear that Voldemort would come back through the use of one of his horcruxes was abated when they were all located and promptly destroyed. This was only possible, though, because of the cooperation of the Malfoy family. In return for a full pardon, they offered up the location of every horcrux. They may not have been the most popular family in the wizarding world, but it certainly beat Azkaban. Draco was the most relieved of his family, never really wanting a part of the pureblood ideology. Sure, he was still a semi-bigoted prig, but he didn't want to kill anyone. The time he once spent putting into avoiding death eater status was now being put into shagging.

Yes, it was the sad truth, Draco had never had sex, though not one soul knew. Like any good Slytherin, he was a master manipulator and it took only a few discretely planted rumors to have the entire school thinking he was a sex god. Little did they know, he had only known the gentle caress of his own hand. It wasn't that he didn't have any girls interested in him, it was just that he wasn't interested in any girls—ever. When it came to the choice between caldrons and wands, Draco was hot on wands. The shagging problem came in because nobody knew this fact and Draco wasn't sure he wanted everyone to know. The rigid, stifling, and generally oppressive atmosphere of the Death Eater regime wasn't exactly the most welcoming group of people.

That was all in the past now, and Draco was determined to live his life the way he wanted.

"Harry, really! Stop obsessing. Voldemort is dead and there is nothing that he could possibly be up to. Nothing of consequence anyway," Hermione chided at the 75th mention of Draco's name from Harry's lips.

"He just looked shifty when we got on the train. That's all I'm saying," Harry replied with a flush upon his face.

Hermione and Ron disregarded his blush as a result of anger, but a more intuitive person sharing their compartment knew better.

"I think he looked handsome," Luna added with a small, yet knowing smile, directed at Harry.

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he was quick to hide his reaction. Thankfully, Luna's comment caused their compartment to erupt in heavy debate.

Harry almost wondered how Luna knew what he was really thinking, but then again, it was Luna. Hell, she probably even knew he was gay before he did. Ron and Hermione were too busy with their on-again, off-again, flirtation to notice anything odd and Harry laughed to himself as their mini-drama played out in front of him. Hermione had noted that Draco looked good in black, which spun Ron into an especially sour mood.

Harry stayed out of the Draco debate and was content to wistfully think of his blonde nemesis—shirtless.

Later, Harry excused himself to go to the toilet, and Luna and Ron had fallen asleep. As quickly as Hermione realized she was practically alone she pulled out a parchment from a deep pocket in her bag. Before opening it for the millionth time, she looked around once more to make sure nobody would be a witness. Confirming her solitude, she opened the parchment and a smile slowly spread across her face. She'd read the words many times, but for some reason she just had to reread it for new interpretations.

Miss Granger,

Your work this summer was adequate and my time spent with you was not entirely unbearable. You'll be pleased to hear I finished our work in the smaller galleries and virtually everything has been restored.

I recall The Wallace Collection having qualities that would be of interest to you. Should you find yourself able to tear your nose out of a book I would recommend you visit.

Severus Snape

By the end of the war, the muggle world had seen its share of turmoil. Voldemort had a special interest in destroying the fruits of muggle culture and many galleries and museums had been targeted. Precious masterpieces had been destroyed and in an effort to hide the effects of the wizarding war, the Order decided to do their best to recover and restore the damaged works. Hermione's love of the intellectual world created a special interest in this task and many hours of begging got her assigned to the project. She was surprised, though, to learn that Professor Snape shared her passion for art.

It had been difficult at first. Their personalities clashed again and again with near disastrous results. Over time, though, the tension turned into respect and soon turned into an easy and stimulation repartee. Their work was done over long, cerebral conversations, peppered with comic snarkiness. Hermione would go as far as to say it was flirtatious snarkiness, but she knew Snape wouldn't. She learned to enjoy her little crush and not pursue anything else as it was highly inappropriate.

She also had a rekindling of sorts with Ron. A part of her was still devastated by the rejection of the whole Lavender affair. Sometimes she still wanted to torture him with icy silence, yet something kept her coming back. Every time she thought she never wanted to talk to him again, he'd say something that would make her laugh and fill her stomach with that delicious fluttering. Ultimately, that's what she lived for with Ron—the small moments that nobody else understood. She looked over and smiled at his crumpled figure resting against the wall of the compartment. She noticed an errant hair by his nose and gently brushed it aside.

"Shame on you, Hermione. Trying to take advantage of me when I'm asleep?" he yawned, waking up.

There it was. That fulfilling giggle he always stole from her.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the now refolded parchment.

"Nothing," she answered, stuffing it back in her bag, "I was just about to take a rest as well."

She began to situate herself on the opposite end of the seat, placing herself far from Ron and close to the cold window.

"That window is too cold, come here. I don't want to listen to your sniffling and coughing for the next two weeks," he said, motioning for her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"If you insist," she said sliding over to take her place, cuddled next to him. Both settled into a nap, enjoying each other's company. Though Snape was far from her mind, he wasn't out of it. Right now, though, a nap with Ron was just what she wanted.

Meanwhile, taking solace in the bathroom, Harry splashed cool water in his face. How shallow was he that he'd disregard bigotry, idiocy, and all around crudeness for piercing grey eyes and a fantastic ass? He, of course, was thinking again of Draco.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock.

"Just a minute," he called out. Apparently this wasn't good enough for the person waiting as they followed up with a prolonged banging at the door.

"What is the hurry? What's your—" Harry started, swinging open the door. He couldn't continue, though, as he was staring in the piercing grey eyes that had just been occupying his mind.

"Oh. It's you."

"I'm sorry if I interrupted you wanking off, but other people do need to use the toilet," Draco sneered.

Harry had been so thrown off he couldn't manage a proper comeback and murmured, "Git," under his breath as Draco took his spot in the bathroom.

Draco's attention went immediately to the mirror, closely examining what he saw. He replayed the exchange he had with Harry Potter in his mind and he could have sworn he caught Harry looking back at his ass when Harry left. It was a nice thought, but Draco chalked it up to his own consuming horniness. It was that aching need that had brought Draco to the bathroom, actually. He unzipped his pants and prepared to engage in the activity he had just accused Harry of. His hand went to work and his thoughts went to Harry—shirtless—and bottomless.

Okay so reviews are much appreciated. Interested? Want me to continue? Comments? I always love reviews so send them my way!