DUELS 6.

Draco's little stunt at the Quidditch match had gone exactly as he had planned. Scarhead could barely walk through the corridors without someone yelling things at him, calling him a git, or even going so far as to threaten him. A week ago, Draco would have been an extremely happy Slytherin to see what misery his meddling had cause for the Boy Who Lived. But then, /then/, Potter had to ruin it all by saying:

/"I'm done fighting you, Draco. You've won."/

Who in Hell admitted defeat so easily?! It made Draco sick. Here he could've had a nice enjoyable few weeks of watching Potter suffer, but then the idiot had to go and act all /vulnerable/.

"Ruddy pathetic…" Draco hissed beneath his breath as he observed Harry from across the Great Hall. The tousle/haired boy was distinctly separated from the rest of the Gryffindors. Only little Colin Creevey dared to even get near him, and Harry didn't look too all together pleased about it.

Some part of Draco wanted to go and talk to Harry, or at least, to lure him into the Room of Requirement for a quick shag. But he knew he wouldn't; Draco always had to be the victim, and he wasn't too good with making amends.

~*~

Harry knew that Draco was watching him closely. He could feel the blonde's silver stare on him as he tried to get the point across to Colin that he didn't, in fact, give a flying fuck about the boy's most recent plunge into the Black Lake.

"Those grindylows are a real trouble, you know Harry. I bet someone like /you/ could fight them off though, couldn't you, Harry? You could do it, right?" Colin looked expectantly up at Harry, as if expecting him to launch into a retelling of some battle with a pair of grindylows.

Harry, however, sighed inwardly and got up from the table, slinging his bag around his shoulder. Without another glance at Colin Creevey, he left the Great Hall, still all too aware that Draco was watching his every move.

The whole being hated by everyone thing was not something Harry was unused to. It seemed that every year something disastrous or another took place that caused the whole school to cast him out. But this time was worse. This time it hadn't even been his fault. It had been fucking Draco Malfoy who had screwed up his social life this time. It was /his/ fault that neither Ron nor Hermione would speak to him, and it was his fault that he was dangerously close to being chucked from the Quidditch team. But it wasn't as if Harry could tell the rest of the school, "Oh yeah guys, that wasn't me who lost us the Ravenclaw match, by the way. Malfoy made himself look like me because he's sexually frustrated."

Harry grimaced at the very thought.

Coming out of his preoccupied thoughts, Harry realized he was beside the Black Lake. Perhaps Colin's rambling at breakfast had led him there, Harry didn't know. But, after deciding he was better off out there all alone than being glared at in the Great Hall, Harry sank to the ground beneath the large tree at water's edge. His head thunked against the bark and he gazed up at the morning light leaking through the tree leaves. For a moment, Harry forgot all about the heavy weights pressing on his mind and simply enjoyed the view.

"Oi, Potter."

The voice yanked Harry from his private place and made him once again be a part of the world.

It was Draco coming towards Harry across the lawn. The Slytherin looked determined, focused, as if he had to force himself to even come near Harry.

"What do you want, Draco?" Harry sighed, returning his gaze to the tree top.

"I just want to talk to you."

"You sure you're not going to slip me another Sleeping Draught?"

"Shut up."

Draco sat beside Harry, still with a foot of open air between them, and wrung his hands. His previous resolve seemed to have disappeared, like all that willpower had only been needed to take the first step, which it had.

For several taxing minutes, there was complete silence save for the gentle lapping of the water as the Giant Squid swam back and forth across the length of the lake. Harry glanced at Draco out of the corner of his eye. The blonde seemed deep in thought.

"Look Draco, if you're not going to say anything, just leave. Like I said, I'm finished with this little duel, alright? I'm not going to try and get you back, and I'm not going to argue with you." Harry put his forehead against his knees, not looking at Draco as he spoke.

In an abrupt flurry of movement, Draco grasped Harry by the shoulders and pushed him down onto the grass. His lips pressed down onto Harry's open ones and his tongue darted inside the surprised Gryffindor's mouth. For a moment, the two kissed; half passionate, half furious.

"Stop!" Harry demanded, coming to his senses. He pushed Draco away, his hands pressing hard on the boy's chest.

"Why?" Draco said heatedly. "I'm not fighting you, am I?"

"No…"

"Then what's you're bloody problem?!"

"My /problem/," Harry retorted, "is that…well…" he trailed off.

Draco smirked and gently kissed Harry once more. "See? You want this too, just admit it…" he purred against the kiss.

Harry shivered appreciatively as Draco's breath tickled his lips. He had to shake his head minutely to keep his mind clear. "Even if I do…it's still your damn fault that no one is speaking to me, now. I'm gonna get booted off the Quidditch team because of you!" Harry sat up, bumping Draco off of his chest.

"No you won't," Draco disagreed. "I knew they'd never chuck off their best player, which is the only reason I even did that. I just wanted to humiliate you, is all." The Slytherin shrugged, as if that made perfect sense.

"Humiliate me?" Harry laughed spitefully. "Well you managed that, let me tell you." He pushed back his dark locks and sighed.

Draco smirked and kissed Harry once more, his hand slipping between the Gryffindor's legs. "It's good to know I'm good at something, then," he teased softly.

Once more, Harry pushed him away. "Don't do that here, you dolt. I'll meet you in the Room of Requirement tonight, ok?"

Draco huffed, angry that he would have to wait. "Fine. See you then." The blonde stood then after giving Harry one final kiss and headed back into the castle, smirking slightly.

Harry groaned and fell back onto the grass, his eyes slipping to a close. Here he was again…falling victim to Draco's irresistible charm. He slung one arm across his face, which only caused his glasses to pinch uncomfortably into the bridge of his nose. He ignored it. Instead he thought about what Draco had said:

/"I'm not fighting you, am I?"/

That had not been entirely true, Harry figured. He and Draco would /always/ be fighting; it was just the sort of relationship they had. They were two opposing forces that never wanted to let up, like a landslide and a volcano, or some other such natural disaster. No matter how badly they wanted it to work, Harry knew that it would always be a struggle.

For almost twenty minutes Harry lie there in the grass beside the Black Lake. He even dozed off after a while. He was awoken from his light sleep, however, by two voices.

"Malfoy didn't kill him, did he?"

"Oh Ronald, don't be ridiculous."

"What? It's possible."

Harry grinned slightly and said, "Ron has a point," as he pushed himself into a sitting position to look up at the two people he missed most: Ron and Hermione.

Hermione returned Harry's grin rather sheepishly and nudged Ron in the ribs. Ron shot her a look and grinned as well. The two of them glanced at each other and sat down tentatively in front of Harry. The phrase "walking on egg shells" popped into Harry's head.

"Oh Harry we're sorry," Hermione said earnestly. "We should have known."

"Known what, exactly?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well we should have known that wasn't really you at the Quidditch match."

Harry's crisp green eyes widened minutely. How did they know that? Had Draco said something? "W/What do you mean?"

Hermione glanced at Ron again, who only looked down at the grass directly in front of him, unwilling to meet Harry's eyes. Harry wasn't certain if Ron was still angry or just embarrassed.

"Harry," Hermione continued, "we were stupid to believe you'd do something like drink before a match, or drink at all, come to that. It was Malfoy, wasn't it, he framed you?"

"How'd you know? Did Draco…"

Hermione shook her head, knowing the end of Harry's question. "No, he didn't say anything to us. It was Ron, he heard Snape talking to Filch." She nudged Ron again, lighter this time. "Go on, Ron, tell Harry what you heard."

Ron sighed and glanced at Harry for a fraction of a second. "Wull…Snape was telling Filch that someone had…had broken into his supply cupboard, and he was blaming Filch for not keeping students away. Then he said that someone had nicked a bottle of Polyjuice Potion…"

"So Ron and I figured that Malfoy must have turned into you before the match," Hermione finished. "Oh Harry we're sorry!" She flung her arms around Harry's neck and hugged him tightly. "We'll tell everyone that it was Malfoy, alright?" She pulled back to look Harry in the eyes.

Harry shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks, Hermione. I'll work things out on my own."

It was then that Ron finally looked up at Harry. "You sure?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll be alright."

Ron smiled flippantly. "I'm sorry too, mate."

And just like that, the three of them were back to normal. Harry found himself smiling more than he had in the last few days as he sat there with his three best friends, laughing and talking, and now and then tickling the tentacles of the Giant Squid. It was as if Draco Malfoy had never publicly humiliated Harry at all.

Things were as they should have been.

At least, that is for Harry, until he journeyed once again to the Room of Requirement.

But this time he felt like he'd be able to put up with whatever Draco threw at him.

We shall see.