Hello, Readers :)
So, I was thinking of Harry being the completely romantically challenged fool that he is, and our collective agreement as a fandom that Draco is a sex god, and this little creation was born. Plus, Harry's cannon future makes absolutely no sense to me (but I might be biased).

Summary: Harry goes to Draco for romantic advice. Draco is happy to oblige, and Harry is forced to think about what, and who, he really wants. Hinny becomes Drarry.
Warnings: M/M and F/M relationships, scenes of a sexual nature, language, prejudice and discrimination, some bashing, and some morally questionable decisions.

###

"Malfoy, Potter."

Harry half-heartedly sighed as he slung the bag he hadn't bothered to unpack back over his shoulder and headed across the potion's classroom to his designated partner. He wondered whether he should swallow his House pride and just start sitting next to the blonde at the start of every lesson; in every class that the two had shared this year, from charms to transfiguration, they had inevitably been paired up. However, despite the courageous nature of said House, he still couldn't muster up the nerve to perform such a bold move.

"Hey," He breathed out with a grunt as he threw the bag under the desk with a heavy-handed carelessness that had Draco scrunching up his nose in disgust.

Draco was somehow gracefully sprawled atop one of the tall lab stools that filled the classroom, one leg bent, foot up on the narrow seat he perched on, and the other stretched out long and lean to the floor. One elbow was propped up on his bent knee, his hand cupping loosely at his face, the tip of the pinky finger nudged slightly between thin pale lips. At Harry's greeting he removed the hand, curling the fingers once in a wave of hello.

Harry reached down to pull out textbooks, parchment and other utensils needed for today's class and shot Draco a put-upon look as the other made no attempt to move. He reached for the Slytherin's own bag, pulling out the same equipment. He leant over the other boy, deliberately roughly knocking his shoulder and loudly invading his personal space as he set the equipment before him, making sure to convey his exasperation in buckets. All he received for his efforts was a leer and a quick, taunting raise of eyebrows. After nearly four months of working so closely together the two had come to a rather simple understanding; each was reliant on the other for the majority of their grades, and so they would work together as amicably as they could. Harry needed good grades to get into the Auror Academy and Draco had disclosed early on in the year that he needed mostly Outstandings to study medicinal magic.

The Gryffindor had been surprised to hear of Draco's plans for the future, but that had been one of the least surprising revelations of the year so far. One week after the welcoming feast, Harry had been requested to join Draco, McGonagall and Snape in the Headmaster's office. There, Dumbledore had explained Draco's situation whilst the blonde muttered and cursed under his breath, glaring at Harry and begrudging the Headmaster for involving his school rival in his private affairs.

It was revealed that, over the summer, Draco had been unwillingly brought into the inner folds of Voldemort's ranks. He had been set the absurd task of killing Dumbledore as an initiation, a test of loyalty, before he could receive the dark mark. It had been the last straw for the sixteen-year-old. He finally broke free of his father's stranglehold on his life and fled to Hogwarts, seeking shelter with his godfather, Severus Snape.

The news of his treachery had spread like fiendfyre through the wizarding world, as well as his subsequent disownment from the Malfoy family, and the boy had been left without a friend, reputation, or knut to his name. Fortunately, the news sparked some sort of revolution amongst the current generation of Slytherins. A large proportion had followed his example, abandoning their families and fleeing to the castle, becoming permanent residents at the safe haven. The group had found it difficult once classes resumed, hated on all sides; presumed secret Death Eaters by the Light and considered traitors by the Dark. They had grown close, sticking up for each other, ensuring the safety of their own above all else. Despite their now public Light or Neutral standing, the Slytherins were more hostile to outsiders than ever before.

That's where Harry came into it. The staff had noticed the growing tension between the students; the rates of sabotage in lessons and trips to Madam Pomfrey higher than ever. Once more Dumbledore was relying on his favourite tool to salvage the situation. He had hoped that teaming up the poster boy for the Light and the unwilling leader of the revolution would bring about some peace and start the formation of strong bonds between the houses. He envisioned a world where the student body presented as a united, solid force against the Dark Lord.

And so, the strained, forced relationship between Harry and Draco had begun. Over the four months since the start of term it had slowly developed into something more friendly than rivals but more rivalrous that friends. The two could now tolerate each other during the long periods of time they had to spend together and could even hold somewhat of a civil conversation. The work they produced together in class was of a far higher quality than either could hope to achieve alone, and miles beyond what had initially been expected of the duo. Their individual skill sets seemed to weave together seamlessly, filling in weaknesses and building on strengths.

"Oi, off the bench, we gotta stand in potions, twit. I don't wanna be docked because your arse is too lazy to follow health and safety rules." Harry called, knocking Draco's shoulder once more. So, maybe they had developed some sort of tentative companionship, but they were still Harry and Draco, through and through.

"Because there's a lot more you want this arse to be doing, right, scarhead?" Draco quipped, rising languidly from his seat with a little more sway in his hips than was strictly necessary.

Harry grinned, not taking the bait, knowing that the joking words were nothing more than that; a joke. He hated that the blonde used to get to him so easily, seemed to know all the right buttons to press to get a rise out of him and set his temper raging. Looking back he had been an impulsive, hot-headed idiot. He wished he could go back and see the taunts for what they really were, just defensive jabs from a hurt and scared kid with a dark sense of humour and an admirably sharp wit. "As a matter of fact, there is," He replied, "I wouldn't mind if you walked your arse over to the storage cupboard and started gathering ingredients. Might as well make yourself useful some time this decade."

Draco passed behind him and around their station with a tut, pointing at his backside as he sauntered over to the cupboard, calling over his shoulder, "This is truly wasted on the likes of you, Potter."

"I don't think I'm missing out on much."

The Slytherin gaped at him as he headed back to their desk, looking ready to throw the tray of ingredients in his hands to the floor in outrage, "How dare you. I am the best you never had." He glanced over Harry's shoulder, catching the eyes of his eavesdropping housemates, "Nott, Parkinson, tell him I'm the best he's never had."

"Oh, yeah, totally." "Bow down to the almighty Slytherin sex god." Came simultaneous drawling, sarcastic replies that would put Snape to shame.

Harry hummed noncommittedly to irk the other more, but soon cracked a smile as Draco somehow managed a furious pout, looking seconds away from stamping his foot like a petulant child. It had taken him a while to get used to this version of Draco, this version that wasn't constantly afraid and second-guessing every word and action he made. A version that didn't prioritise reputation and attention above all else, desperately fighting for recognition. A version free of expectation and duty and burden. Although, Harry corrected himself, this wasn't a version of Draco at all. This was the true one, the real deal, exactly how he always would have been if not forced to constantly wear a mask and follow in other people's footsteps. And Harry had to admit, he liked it. It had been jarring at first, seeing him flirty and flamboyant, sending the girls giggling and the guys spluttering indignantly. In the beginning he had been cautious and weary, seeing it as just another act, but over time he had grown to appreciate how open and honest the other had become, and had told him so multiple times. He actively encouraged and supported him, especially when Draco made the effort to begin breaking down the walls he'd built around himself. Harry had looked on fondly as his ex-rival offered to help Luna look for her lost shoes, gave Hermione a stack of neatly written notes from the classes she'd missed when sick with the flu, and had even apologised to Neville for his past tormenting. The blonde had just cast a quick accio, dumped the parchments with a sneer, and had shoehorned in many backhanded compliments respectively, but it was the thought that counted.

Above all, Harry liked to think he himself had reaped the most benefits from this new Malfoy. He had found in him a study companion, a playful competitor, an advisor, and a fellow human who had seemingly suffered just as much as he had. In Draco he found a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on when all the noise got just a little too loud. After one of his late-night wonderings of the castle had brought him to Myrtle's bathroom, and he had accidentally walked in on Draco trembling and staring bleary eyed into one of the mirrors, the two sought out each other's company. At first it seemed almost subconscious, an accidental meeting in the same abandoned classroom or at the same tree by the Black Lake. Then the small suggestions to study together during free periods had begun, developing into casual invites to hang out in their free time after classes and at weekends, even sneaking out to meet up after curfew. They could often be found watching the stars from the astronomy tower, perched precariously at the ledge, staying up until the early hours talking about anything and everything.

The two worked on their potion in a coordinated, comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. When it was time to leave their potion to gently simmer they turned, leaning back against their small work station. They were forced to stand hip to hip by the wall so as to avoid any wayward spluttering from the cauldron landing on their unsuspecting backs. Harry allowed his mind to continue its Draco-fuelled musings. He angled his head towards the Slytherin, drawing his attention back to Earth.

"You know, I've been thinking-"

"Ah! So it does have a brain!"

"Shut up! Fine, I won't tell you."

Draco tilted his head to the side, letting it knock gently atop Harry's before lifting a finger and repeatedly jamming it, hard, into the boy's side, "Come on! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me-"

Harry tried to muffle his yelp and reflexively silenced Draco with speed honed from years of Seeker training so as not to draw the attention of Professor Slughorn. One hand wrapped tight around a pale wrist, the other clamped over his mouth, "Brat. Well, I have a girlfriend."

The blonde rolled his eyes and promptly stuck out his tongue, licking at Harry's palm so the other boy would free him. Harry didn't miss a beat and wiped his wet palm straight down Draco's front, causing a high, indignant shriek.

"You went through all that just to tell me something that many people have told me hundreds of times already? That you've told me hundreds of times already? I know you're practically braindead, but even you must have realised you're one half of the current greatest source of gossip?"

"Shut up and let me finish! You're not a…you…" Harry was suddenly at a loss for words, unable to meet the other's curious gaze. "There's a lot of stories going around, and I was wondering…you've had sex before, right?"

"According to the rumours." Draco fluttered a hand at himself, "Potter, I look like this, what do you think?"

"And you've like…kissed people before?"

The Slytherin crossed his arms, giving the other his full attention, "Well, yeah. The two things don't tend to be mutually exclusive. Surely even a dunderhead like you can figure that much out."

"Well, how do you, you know…get good at it?"

"Sex?"

"No. No!" Harry exclaimed a little too loudly, his hands up defensively. He waited until the curious looks he was receiving from outside of their little work station turned away, "Kissing."

"I know for a fact that you're not a first timer, Potter. Everyone in this castle has seen you lock lips with the Weaslette on many a mentally scarring, stomach churning occasion, and there were also those rumours about you and Chang last year."

Harry looked away, embarrassed, "Yeah, but, like…Cho kissed me, and it wasn't good. And most of the time Ginny kisses me too, and it's just, you know, pecks. And it's not as good as everyone says it should be. There's no, you know, sparks and butterflies and all that stuff people keep going on about. And I thought maybe it was because I wasn't doing it right."

Draco heard the timer for their potion go off and turned to resume stirring, pointing for Harry to start adding in their prepared mandrake root, "Most of the time those things come from what you're feeling. Emotionally not physically, that is. Do you even like her?"

The brunette didn't reply for the longest time, so long that Draco thought he hadn't heard him. Just as he was about to repeat his question Harry sighed, murmuring, "Of course I do. She's…nice. She's smart, and funny, and great at quidditch. Oh, and, err, pretty. And I love her family."

"That means nothing. I'm smart, and funny, and great at quidditch, and undoubtable pretty. Yet I'm not getting any pecks." Draco winked, throwing the word back at the quickly reddening boy. "Might have some slight, tiny, minor, barely-there issues with the family part, though."

Harry smiled smally at Draco, knowing he was just messing with him. Or, was trying to get him to actually consider his feelings. He shook his head, this was Draco he was talking about; he was definitely just messing with him. He sighed, continuing, "She's everything I should be looking for in a girlfriend. Everyone says we're great together. It was always expected that we would be a couple."

"Oh, so then what, are you going to keep doing what's expected of you? Are you going to get engaged straight out of Hogwarts, and be married by twenty-one? First kid on the way by twenty-five? Move out to the countryside, have a white picket fence and a dog, two point three children?" Draco was shocked by the bitterness in his own voice. He hadn't expected those words to come out. He thanked Merlin that Harry was too focused on not slicing off his fingers to look at his face.

"And what's so wrong with that? That's the dream, isn't it?" Harry bit back defensively.

Draco sighed, stepping away from the cauldron to take a breather from the hot, pungent fumes, "For everyone else maybe, but it doesn't seem…right. Not for you. You should be happy."

Harry didn't look at him, instead kept his back to the blonde as he stepped over to continue the abandoned stirring. His shoulders were visibly tense as he gripped the rod, "Oh? And you're such an expert on what's right for me, now? After all these years of hating me you think you can decide what will make me happy?"

Draco stepped up behind him, acting like he was peering over Harry's shoulder at the potion when in reality he had just wanted an excuse to put a reassuring hand on the boy's waist under the pretence of steadying himself. He leant forward, talking close to his ear, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to comment or speculate on your personal life. We're not even friends."

"Oh, fuck that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you." Harry muttered with a sigh. He put the near finished potion under stasis; it was a double class and they were well ahead of schedule. He turned fully, finding Draco a lot closer than he had expected. He raised a hand, placing it on the taller boy's chest with the intent of pushing him back, but instead he let it just rest there. "I know we never discussed it or came to a formal, official decision, or whatever, but we are friends. Or at least we could be. Should be." He furrowed his brow in thought, looking up into grey eyes, "Draco Malfoy, will you be my friend?"

"You're such an idiot."

"Shut up, ferret."

"So, friend," Draco wriggled his eyebrows with a mocking sneer, "Do you still want kissing tips from your dear old bestest buddy Draco?"

Harry shifted his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose as if staving off a headache, but nodded in defeat, "Yes, please…Draco."

Draco mirrored his small smile at using his first name before schooling his features into what he hoped would be a portrayal of a wise guru, "So, Harry. You've got to go with instinct, you know? If you're thinking about the kiss, it's a bad kiss. If you're able to think at all, for that matter. You have to feel the mood, respond to your partner."

The blonde sighed, feeling his own headache beginning at the other's dumbfounded look, realising he was going to have to spoon-feed the information to the clueless Gryffindor, "Start from gentle little kisses and build up the passion. Experiment, see what your partner likes. Try a little lick or nibble, a little tongue or teeth. Maybe your partner likes it when you act cute, mixing in a few kisses to the nose and forehead. Maybe they like it a little more sensual, neck kisses and such."

Despite his best efforts, Harry felt more lost than ever. He brought a tan hand up to his own neck, prodding and scrubbing it harshly, "Neck kisses?" He murmured to himself.

Draco caught his hand with one of his own, tutting, "Bloody Gryffindors, always so rough. Not like that, like this." The Slytherin raised his other pale hand to Harry's throat, briefly but gently caressing his fingertips along his jaw, up to his ear then down the side of his neck. He lightly pinched at his pulse point then soothed it with another play of long, elegant fingers. He stepped back slightly, dropping his hands and ignoring the blown look in Harry's eyes. He was glad his larger frame was shielding Harry from the class, keeping him ignorant of the looks he could feel burning into his back. He coughed slightly before finding his voice, "You know, sort of like that. But with lips, tongue, and teeth."

Harry was still staring at him in what looked like a mix of awe, confusion, and something else indiscernible, "I don't think I really get it. I don't think I can do…that."

Draco looked at him deadpan, but behind the sarcasm his mind was whirring, "Merlin, and to thing you're Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor. I feel sorry for any girl who's been unlucky enough to have had physical contact with you, dunderhead."

"Hey!" Harry's rebuttal was defensive, but he knew Draco caught the flicker of resignation and defeat in his eyes. He softened his tone, trying not to sound too pleading, "That's why I need your help. I know Ginny's a lot more experienced than me. I don't want her to get bored of me. I don't want to lose the-…her."

Draco sighed but gave a short nod, "Fine. Tell you what, come by the Slytherin common room tonight, after curfew, we'll talk about this more."

"What, so I can get caught by Mrs Norris, cursed at by your housemates, and laughed at more by you?"

"Do you want my help or not?"

"…I'll see you tonight."

###

Harry cast a tempus for what seemed liked the millionth time that night and smiled to himself. One minute past curfew. That'll do.

He stretched up his arms, feeling the muscles in his back protest from being hunched over that day's charms assignment, before rolling up the finished essay and shoving it in his bag. To his horror he had found out rather quickly that Draco was just as stubborn as Hermione when it came to classwork, and he insisted that Harry do, or at least attempt, any work the day it was set. Otherwise he would outright refuse to go over any questions or queries the brunette might have. For some reason, he found Draco's arguments a lot more compelling than Hermione's, and he found himself going along with the strict routine. He told himself it was just for a quiet life and cooperative partner, but really, he'd come to appreciate and even enjoy Draco's input, and a lot more than he did his bushy-haired best friend's. Draco was surprisingly patient, taking the time to develop Harry's understanding and have intelligent debates with him. It was a vast contrast to the short, clipped answers, or unnecessarily long and rambling ones, he was used to receiving. Draco never nagged about how he should 'just do more', and prioritised quality over quantity, living by the motto 'work smarter, not harder'.

He pulled out his invisibility cloak from where it was stashed in a hidden compartment of his bag; he had developed the habit of keeping it on him at all times. He then banished the bag up to the dorms, where he knew it would be neatly sat at the foot of his bed. Draco had been aghast when he'd discovered that Harry didn't know the very basics of magic, the simple yet frequently used spells that helped magical folk get through day-to-day life that all purebloods were taught in their ten years before Hogwarts. Draco had taken it upon himself to educate Harry, he'd even set him homework. In turn Harry had taught him about the muggle world. At first he had been met with heated resistance, but that soon dissipated once Harry drew out a collection of muggle board games for them to play. A decision Harry regretted soon after when Draco nearly set him on fire for his atrocious drawing skills in Pictionary. An act that was almost repeated when Harry insisted Draco's rather beautiful depiction of a dragon was a drunk pigeon. He had sworn he could see his shoes beginning to smoke.

"Are you leaving, Harry? It's past curfew."

The fond smile dropped from Harry's face as he looked back at Hermione, half risen out of his seat to leave. He hovered for a moment, debating whether to just get up and go, but now Ron's attention was also on him. With a small sigh he sat back down, crossing his arms almost defensively, "Yeah, just for a little while. I promise I won't cause any trouble."

"Ooooh!" Ron crooned, his face twisted up in what he probably presumed was a mocking way but just looked like he was constipated, "Sneaking out to spend some time with Ginny?"

Harry looked at him, his brow furrowing in confusion, "Why would I sneak out to see Ginny? She's right there." He turned, pointing over his shoulder to where the redhead was engrossed in reading a book with one of her classmates on another sofa across the room.

"Yes, she is right there." Hermione confirmed, a strained look on her face, "She's always right there. But you two never seem to spend any time together."

"We're together all the time. In the common room, at quidditch practice, at meals."

"I meant," Hermione continued, "You never spend any quality time together. Just you two. Alone. You are dating her, Harry, you should start being a little more romantic, stop treating her exactly the same as you treat all your friends." She frowned deeper, "Although, it is you, I don't think you have a romantic cell in your body."

"Hey!" Harry sputtered, indignant. He turned to Ron, hoping his equally romantically challenged friend would jump in to rescue him, "You and Lavender don't ever spend quality alone time together, right?"

Ron blushed almost instantly, his ears now matching his hair, "Er, yeah, actually, we do, mate."

"You serious?" Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. He sighed, cupping his face in his hands.

"Yeah," Run muttered, his eyes wandered past Harry and he jabbed his thumb to indicate, "And if you don't up your game, you're gunna lose her."

That's what I'm trying to do right now, if you'll just let me go and see Draco, Harry thought to himself. He followed Ron's line of sight, watching as Ginny continued to read her book. He vaguely recognised it as one Hermione had taken out of the library herself during one of their transfiguration assignments last year. She was sat close to her classmate, some plain looking boy Harry could never remember the name of, the small size of the couch they shared demanding it. But she didn't seem too bothered by the proximity. She leaned into his shoulder, and they both held one half of the large tome each, whispering and laughing quietly to each other as they slowly made their way through it. Harry smiled at them, not that either would see it. They looked like they were having fun.

"What's your point?" Harry asked quizzically, his eyes confused as they landed back on Ron, "She's just working on an assignment, a joint one by the looks of it, and I'm guessing he's her partner for it. I'm glad they get along, we all know what a chore it is to be lumped with someone we can't stand."

"Don't you see it, Harry?" Hermione asked gently, "I don't want to upset you, and I'm not a hundred percent certain, but I think they might be flirting with each other."

Harry watched as Ginny untucked a large white quill from behind her ear, scrawled some notes on a scrap of parchment, then returned it. As she did she caused a few long locks of fiery hair to tumble into her eyes. She smiled, ducking her head slightly in embarrassment as the boy laughed at her before reaching out to brush them back into place. "They're just friends, Hermione. I'm not going to be the kind of boyfriend that stops his girlfriend from having friends and hanging out with other people. That's not healthy," he said sternly, appalled at the idea that that might be what they expected from him. He continued on, "They're not doing anything that friends wouldn't. I've done stuff like that with you before, Hermione, it doesn't mean I fancy you. Hell, I do that stuff with all my girl friends. And most of the guys, too."

"We know you do, but that's just you, normal people don't," Ron grinned crookedly.

Harry frowned, looking between his two friends, suddenly very self-conscious, "I'm not…normal?"

"No, mate." The redhead stated bluntly.

"Shut up, Ronald." Hermione scolded him before turning kind, almost pitying eyes on Harry. "That's not what we meant. It's just…most people aren't quite as…physically affectionate as you are, Harry. But that's okay because you've always been like that, and we're used to it."

Ron laughed loudly, "But you should have seen Ginny's face the first time she saw you hug and kiss Hermione 'hello'. She looked like she wanted to set you both on fire. Then when you did the same to me and the twins I swear she nearly fainted from shock!"

Harry stared at the ground, praying it would open up and pull him and his burning cheeks into its depths, "I…I just…"

"It's okay, Harry." Hermione reached over, lightly resting her hand on his knee for a moment before sitting back, "Your past with the Dursley's is a bit of an open secret round here. We know how they treated you. Not to mention the rest of the things you've gone through in your life. And, Sirius and Remus were always very physical people, and you're a lot like them. It's understandable why you like to be close to people. And we've all grown to love you for it."

Ron let out another loud bark of laughter, "Well, all of us except Ginny. She still looks murderous whenever you so much as look at another girl. Even though you're completely harmless and it wouldn't even cross your mind, she thinks your intentions towards other girls are what that boy's intentions are towards her." Ron jabbed his thumb roughly at the boy beside Ginny again.

Harry sat quietly for a moment, just looking into the fire and thinking. He knew the way he was with his friends was different to how most people were, but he just liked physical signs of affection. It had never even crossed his mind that his actions could ever be seen as anything beyond platonic. He briefly entertained the idea of changing, of withdrawing himself from others and focusing all his physical energy on her, but that didn't feel right. It didn't feel like him. And if she truly loved him, like she claimed she did, then she should love him for who he really is. Besides, he would never try and get her to change. Well…except for maybe this jealous side of her that he had only seconds before been enlightened to. He hated jealously, especially unfounded and undue jealousy. It reminded him horribly of all the hateful letters both he and Ginny had received from fans once their relationship had somehow been made known to the Daily Prophet. However, he wasn't afforded long to dwell on these uncomfortable thoughts.

"So, if you're not sneaking out for Ginny, why are you sneaking out?" Ron asked, and then a flicker of excitement entered his blue eyes, "Is there something going on? Is there a bad guy we need to fight? Are we spying on someone?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "We are not doing anything. I'm quite looking forward to completing this year free of Voldemort, drama, and near-death experiences."

"So where are you going, Harry?" Hermione asked. She had a look in her eyes, a determined curiosity which told Harry he wouldn't be leaving any time soon without answering her questions.

"I'm just going to see Draco for a bit."

Ron made some painful sounding choking noises, then managed to rasp out, "Malfoy? You won't sneak out to see your girlfriend but you're going to sneak out to see that slimy git?"

Harry let a deep breath slowly escape past his lips, trying to exhale his frustration. Whilst Draco had made efforts to reconcile with the golden trio, it was only he that seemed willing to reciprocate those efforts. Hermione tolerated him enough but would never go out of her way to speak with him, and Ron seemed completely oblivious to any changes the blonde was making with his life, stubbornly treating him the same way he always had. "Yes," Harry said slowly, as if speaking to a small child, "He's my friend, Ron. Friend's spend time together."

"Yes, they do, but they don't sneak around after curfew to do so, Harry." Hermione pleaded, "What could he possibly want at this hour?" The clever witch looked worried, "You think he's changed, but can someone really change that much? You seem to see him with rose tinted glasses, he might be lying in order to hurt you."

"Why would he go through all the trouble of trying to be my friend, and even trying to make friends with my friends, just to hurt me? If he wasn't serious about changing then it would have been a lot easier on his part to just carry on being mean, or even just spend the year ignoring us."

"He's still a git," Ron stated moodily.

Harry pursed his lips, scrunching up his face a little. Ron was right; Draco was still a git. A nice one, but still a git. "Well, I'm not asking you to be his friend. Just don't be angry with me because I am."

"I still think he's up to something, being all up in your business during classes. I was certain that we'd be starting a Gryffindor versus Slytherin fight at any moment in potions this morning. I was looking forward to it!"

"He wasn't looking to start a fight, Ron," Harry willed himself to be patient, "We were just chatting. He's got quite a physical personality with his friends, like I do, that's all." He paused for a moment, thinking, "Although, he's a lot flirtier than me, but I think that might just be him messing with me."

"So, you admit it, he is still messing with you! I knew the ferret was evil!"

"It's not often I say this, Harry, but I think Ron might be right," Hermione added, "I think he might have some darker ulterior motives. And he was getting awfully close to you today, he might be trying to get you to trust him, to lure you into something. Where does he want to meet you? I know you seem to think he's a friend, Harry, but if he's asked you to meet him in some abandoned corridor, you shouldn't go."

Ron nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, he is a Death Eater, after all!"

"He is not a Death Eater!" Harry bit out coldly. He wasn't sure if he was defending Draco or his own decision-making skills, or maybe both. Even if his best friends couldn't see what he sees they should trust his judgement, or at least trust he's not stupid enough to just go running off into a trap. He lowered his voice as a few curious eyes glanced in their direction, "We're actually meeting in his common room, if you must know. We're…" Harry let his words drift off, mulling over how to phrase exactly what it was they were doing. It wouldn't end well if he told his girlfriend's hot-headed brother that he wanted tips on how to snog his baby sister better. "He's teaching me something," he settled on, "We're just going over something we discussed in potions today that I don't have a good grasp on yet."

"If you need help in potions, Harry, I can help you," Hermione chimed in, a little happiness colouring her voice. She had told him many times this year how proud she was that he was finally prioritising his school work, and naturally assumed it was due to her, something he was not feeling overly eager to correct her on.

"Yeah, mate, stay here and let Hermione just do it for you." Ron nodded, "You must be mad to go into that stinking snake pit."

Harry stood up in what he hoped was a finalising gesture, "No, no, it's fine, honestly, you don't need to, Hermione. He's already agreed, he's expecting me, and it would be rude to just not turn up. And I don't want to pull you away from your own work, I know you're doing a lot of extra classes this year. You should be a little more selfish and focus on you." He gave her a warm, kind smile. It was true, after all, he didn't want to see her wear herself thin like she did back in third year.

"Alright, if you're sure, Harry." Hermione said reluctantly, "Just be careful. For your sake, I am optimistically hopeful that Malfoy's changed, but that doesn't mean they all have. You'll be surrounded by Slytherins and they might take the opportunity to get revenge."

"Yeah!" Ron whooped loudly, "Just shout if you need us to come beat some of them up!"

Harry nodded tightly, wanting to go on the defensive, but realised that if he wanted to get out of there any time soon he had to take that as his queue to leave. He leaned down, placing a quick kiss to each of their cheeks before heading for the exit, the invisibility cloak clutched tight in one hand. He had almost made it out without any further delays when a soft voice called out.

"Babe."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry took a deep breath before turning around to face the source of the voice with a bright, plastered on smile. Ginny gazed up at him with big brown eyes and pouty, red painted lips.

"Hey, Ginny," He called back softly, but didn't bother stepping any closer to her couch lest he get sucked into another conversation. At this rate he was definitely going to get caught by a prefect or Mrs. Norris, "I'm running late for a study session, but we'll hang out tomorrow, yeah?"

"But baby," She let the last syllable stretch on, turning the endearment into a whine, "You say that all the time, but we never do. You're always studying, or reading in the library, or say you're busy. And when we do hang out, it's always with all our friends around."

Harry turned fully towards her and slowly walked over so he could stand by the armrest she was leaning against, "I can't help that I'm busy. I can't keep winging it with blind luck. I can't blow this opportunity if I want a decent career. This is my future."

"So, you're saying your grades are more important than me?"

"At the moment, yes, of course they are." Harry looked at her, confused as to why she looked like he'd just slapped her, "Getting through school should be the most important thing for everyone; Hogwarts doesn't give second chances, and there's so much resting on how well we do. Hermione would say the same thing to Ron about us three hanging out and him being with Lavender. She has said the same thing to Ron. I want to make something of my life, Ginny, I don't want to just coast along being the Boy who Lived forever. I want an exciting job, and to travel the world."

"But you are the Boy who Lived," She pleaded, "Can't you just be happy with that? You would never need or want for anything."

Harry paused for a moment. He supposed to someone like Ginny, who had grown up with very little, that would seem the ideal life. However, that wasn't Harry, and she should know better than that, "You know that would make me miserable. I want my own future."

"I am your future! Isn't that good enough for you?"

The world seemed to go silent and shrink to just the small area around them, even though Harry could hear hushed whisperings and feel stares burning into his back. Hadn't Draco said the same thing just that morning? That his future revolved around a wife and kids and not much else? At the time he'd told the blonde that that was what he wanted…but hadn't he just told Ginny that he didn't? He wanted adventure. He wanted to see everything, do everything. His world grew smaller still until he was stuck in his own head, seeing his future before him. He stood outside a perfect little house with a white picket fence and neat garden. A small family, a man, woman and child, stood in the doorway, perfect and neat smiles spread across their faces. Harry could feel his stomach churn and his mind's eye seemed to blink, the picture blurring and twisting, morphing into a sight he had seen many, many times before. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley, stood outside their house at Privet Drive. That was what lay ahead of him. He was going to have a perfectly normal life.

"Babe, are you okay? You don't look so good." Ginny cooed up at him, eyes wide with concern.

Harry let out a breath he didn't know how long he had been holding and shook his head to try and clear it. It didn't work. He tried to offer her a small smile, but he could feel it was closer to a grimace, "I…I have to go."

She looked at him, and he could see an argument building in her mind, but she must have seen something in him that made her stop, "Okay, but I mean it. You suddenly went all pale, like you'd seen a ghost. Promise me you'll stop by the hospital wing if you're not feeling well. Madam Pomfrey won't mind seeing you outside of curfew."

"Yeah. Okay. Will do." Harry nodded and turned towards the portrait that covered the entranceway. He paused as a small, freckled hand grabbed hold of his sleeve.

Ginny tugged lightly on the sleeve until he looked at her again, and she made sure her face showed just how cross she was with him, "I know you're not feeling well, and you've been acting weird, and you're being mean to me, but are you not even going to give your girlfriend a kiss goodbye?"

"Yeah. Okay." Harry said dully. He swooped down and before she could turn her glossy lips towards his he placed a brief, light kiss to her cheek, and left.

###

To Be Continued (within 24 hours).

Happy Reading,
Love,
Bambi x