Hello fellow HP/DM lovers! It's nearing midnight in my time zone as I type up this cheese-filled nonsense…this beautiful, romantic, fan girl squeal worthy nonsense, but nonsense all the same. Anyways, I'll get on with the show before I start a rant on something random and end up posting a chapter with just an AN in it.

Oblivious Love

Draco's p.o.v.

It all started about three weeks ago. I woke up covered in sweat, but not from a nightmare. No, I had been having the most wonderful dream of my life. Harry Potter was laying under me, stark naked, those beautiful emerald eyes closed in ecstasy. You can imagine my panic when I realized that I had been having wet dreams about my nemesis. The disgust came shortly afterwards, and then, of course, the panic.

Classes that day had been pure torture. I couldn't even muster up the courage to glance in his direction, let alone pummel him with my usual insults. As the days went by, I started acting less and less like myself. Every time that the golden boy of Gryffindor would walk by me, butterflies would flutter in my stomach and I would look in any direction but his. Naturally my change inactions did not go unnoticed by the dream team. The beaver was the most suspicious one. She kept sending me glares, distrust shining in her brown eyes. The weasel on the other hand, had taken a more direct course of action. Insults were thrown at any given moment, and he had also developed a liking for the more physical approach. I can't count the number of times that he shoved me into random walls.

Even Pansy was looking at me strangely-in between bouts of licking my shoes, feeding me grapes and fluffing my pillows that is. Zabini kept sending me knowing smirks; the kind that you throw someone when you know what colour underwear they're wearing. And yet, Harry remained oblivious. Eventually I grew tired of the whispers stopping as soon as I entered a room, and one day, I snapped.

I had only one choice, I had to woo Harry Potter.

Third person p.o.v.

Harry Potter was waiting in front of the door to the potions classroom situated in the cold dark and dreary dungeons of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. He was standing, surrounded by his faithful followers, when he was approached by his school rival.

-"Did it hurt?" The raven haired boy turned around wide eyed, not having heard the blonde creeping up on him.

"What?"

"When you fell from Heaven because you must be an angel." The boy stood gaping at his nemesis, the question remaining unanswered as Draco went back to his lapdogs, a smirk still lingering on his lips.

The next day, at the breakfast table, Harry was back to normal. He had completely forgotten about the previous days' run-in with the blond Slytherin. But Hermione had not. Thoughts zoomed in both the background and foreground of her mind, blinding her to the outside world. So it was natural for her not to notice the rose-tinted envelope that a large tawny school owl had dropped in front of Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, did notice the intrusion and picked up the strange coloured package that lay before him. As he opened it he looked around the room to see if anyone in particular was watching him. Unfortunately, he missed the one steel gaze that was transfixed on his back.

Shrugging, he unfolded the similarly designed card and read what the spidery black ink had to offer.

'To my the only Prince in this ocean of fools,

If one grain of sand represented love, then I would need the Sahara to express my feelings for you.

Yours truly,

The Shadow of Light.'

Once Harry's eyes had finished dancing across the page, he took a moment to let things sink in.

What was thins person going on about?! Sand, deserts, shadows, what the heck? 'It would be best to pretend that none of this ever happened.' He thought as he discreetly refolded the letter and placed it in his pocket. Excusing himself from the table, he got up and left the Great Hall. No one noticed the blonde who got up and left as well.

When they were both in the hallway leading away from their original location, Draco called out: "Wait, please! Don't you understand the letter?" The blank stare that the other boy was wearing made him take a step back.

-"Malfoy? Why are you talking to me? How do you know about my letter?" With a sigh and realizing that he would not be getting any farther along with his 'master plan' for the time being, the steel eyed boy spun around on his heels and marched back to the Great Hall.

Harry blinked at his retreating form before continuing on his way to his first class of the day; Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws.

Apart from the couple of minutes spent trying to catch Ron, who had been caught in the crossfire of one of the Ravenclaw students' spells, and had therefore been turned into a toad, the class went by without any major interruptions. At the end of the misadventure, the bell rang and the students were forced to give in their toads, or in some cases their thimbles with legs. Harry dropped his perfect green and boil-covered toad into the bin and went back to his desk to collect his things. He watched his best friends bicker as they left the classroom and him as well, behind. Scowling dejectedly, he slung his bag over his right shoulder, and nearly stepped on the object that had appeared at his feet. A white rose, freshly cut, was lying innocently at his feet along with a small piece of parchment. On the piece of parchment was written one spidery word, 'Harry'. As soon as he picked up the small piece of flora, another appeared a few feet away. This time, a velvety dark red rose had come to him. He walked forward cautiously and repeated the motion. As expected, yet another flower appeared, this time a daffodil. And so on and so forth, he followed a trail of sweet scented beauty until he found himself in front of a large cherry wood door that he had never seen before, the white lily that was splayed out at his feet joined the varied bouquet of flowers in his arms. The door swung open and revealed what lay inside the previously unexplored room. The only source of illumination was the candles that were haphazardly placed on various ledges around the room. The flames flickered, creating a disco ball effect to be cast on the two inhabitants of the room.

Draco Malfoy stepped into Harry's line of vision just as the door slammed shut.

"Hello Harry." Draco said in a voice that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. The blonde made his way over to his prince in a few languid movements.

Before Harry had time to evaluate the situation, he found himself trapped in an iron-like embrace. Draco had wrapped one arm around his lower waist and he used his other to stroke the side of Harry's face.

"I've been waiting for you." He whispered softly. "Do you like the flowers?"

"Why do you ask? Do you know who put them there?" Harry asked.

The complete lack of realization on Harry's part made the young Malfoy recoil. He took a dew steps back and looked at his fallen angel. Harry blinked back. In the distance, the shrill ring of a bell cut through the silence of the castle, alerting its inhabitants that an hour had passed since its previous toll.

"Well," Harry said. "I have class. Do you want these?" He gestured at the flowers. Draco's mouth fell open, but before he could answer, Harry shrugged his thin shoulders and dropped the bouquet at the blonde's feet.

The sound of the door slamming shut brought Draco back to Earth and out of his reverie. He felt a stab of hurt deep in his chest, but he ignored it and followed Harry to their Double Potions class.

The dank dungeons smelt of mildew and rodents, but for the first time in his life, Draco didn't notice. He did not know how the brown liquid that was simmering in front of him in a cauldron cam to be, but he found that he didn't care. Every time a certain black haired, green eyed Gryffindor passed by his lonely work table, he felt tears well up in his eyes and his hands begin to shake.

Sighing dejectedly and shaking his bangs out of his eyes, Draco looked around for the spare piece of parchment on which he had scribbled down the final step of his potion. He spotted it on a near by table, -'what is it doing there? - stuck under the weight of a well-manicured hand. His eyes trailed up the persons arm and settled on a familiar face. Harry.

Anger and indignation surged through the Slytherin, filling him and taking over his every thought. He stalked forward brusquely and snatched his paper from under the other boy's hand.

"Ouch! You paper cut my hand!" Harry said, nursing his injury.

"Yeah, well you paper cut my heart!" Draco screamed back. All the noise that had previously created a pleasant background buzz stopped. The sound of bubbling concoctions filled the room, but Draco couldn't hear it. Letting out a sob, he slung his open bag over his shoulder and ran out of the classroom. The bang made by the slamming of the dungeon door echoed in the hallway, masking the young blond boy's cries. Inside the classroom, the silence reigned on.

The next day, Draco didn't go to class. He opted for a quiet day off in the library, scanning various books, but not really reading any of them. During his second hour of imitating the dead, a package appeared on the table in front of him. He put down his current book of choice and stared at the little brown parcel and its attached letter. His name was on the envelope. He opened it and unfolded the letter.

'To mend your bleeding heart. I'm sorry that I broke it.'

He ripped off the paper wrapped around the unknown object with shaking fingers. A small bottle of healing potion rolled into his outstretched hand. A noise from a near by table caught his attention, someone was clearing their throat. Someone wanted his attention. Looking around, his gaze locked with someone else's brilliant green one.

The black haired young man got up from his seat and made his way towards Draco with his right hand thrust out.

"Hi." He said in a warm voice. "My name is Harry." Draco looked at the offered hand, and lifted his own. His cold fingers must have felt like ice in Harry's warm ones, but if that bothered the Gryffindor, he didn't show it.

"Draco." Was the curt reply. Stunned grey eyes, still locked with green ones, widened in understanding.

They were starting over.

The End.

And that's all she wrote. By she I mean I, of course. Well, we, since there ARE two of us. I am Ignis, my dear friend is Ventus. She is working right now though, so I am writing the end AN alone…I know, it's sad. Actually this is going to be very short. We hope you enjoyed, and we would, obviously, really appreciate a quick review. Even if it's only one word long. If you can fit all of what the fic was to you in one word that is…anyways, we'll be back with more soon enough.