A b d i c a t e

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the book Words You Should Know by David Olsen, from which the below definition is derived.

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Abdicate -verb- To formally give up a position or responsibility.

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"Harry Potter," Draco Malfoy announced as he flounced into the Potions classroom during third period. Harry, who had been holding a jar of newt eyes to add to his cauldron, promptly dropped the entire thing, jar and all, into the brewing green liquid in astonishment from hearing his name—his first name—from Malfoy's lips.

He blinked owlishly up at the other boy as he sashayed to stand by his table, seeing no physical change in the Slytherin. Malfoy still wore the haughty smirk from before and he still stood with an elegance that Harry had always envied. No, in all appearances Draco Malfoy still appeared to be the same arrogant, slimy, perfectly immaculate snake he always was before, except…

"Harry Potter, how lovely to see you!"

That voice. Harry was starting to openly gape. Was Draco Malfoy really, in the middle of Potions class, talking to him with such a…normal tone? A tone that held no disdain, no mockery, no sarcasm but actually sounded slightly…sweet?!

Harry wanted to pinch himself, but instead settled on pinching Malfoy.

"Hey!" Draco jumped, rubbing his side where he had taken Harry's pinching abuse. For a second his face clouded in a familiar scowling expression. "What'd you do that for?"

"You're talking to me," Harry replied easily, "you're talking to me like I'm a decent human being so something must be up. What do you really want Malfoy?"

"Yeah Malfoy, come to mess up Harry's potion?" Ron sneered from Harry's left.

"Calm down Weasel as if Potter can afford another low grade in this class." Malfoy didn't even bother moving his eyes away from Harry to answer him. "I merely came over to announce something to you, if you'll accept it."

Immediately Harry was on guard, hand falling to his wand stashed away in his robe pockets in case Malfoy tried anything. "Is it something I'll like?" he cautiously asked, and was completely disarmed when Malfoy—dear Merlin—Malfoy smiled at him!

How was the world not ending?

And damn…Malfoy really had nice teeth…

"Oh I'm hoping you'll like it." Okay, why did that sound so…flirtatious? It all had to be a psychological trick Malfoy was playing and Harry refused to fall for it, despite Malfoy's nice teeth.

He hardened his glare. "What is it then?"

Harry had been expecting a lot of things, none of them good. Scenarios played through his head, one where Malfoy punched him right in the face, another where he suddenly whipped out his wand and hexed Harry and another where he pulled out another wand…

….

But Harry definitely wasn't expecting Malfoy to thrust out his hand for him to shake. "I, Draco Malfoy," he announced in a regal tone, "Hereby abdicate my rights as Harry Potter's enemy and instead wish to try to befriend him. If he'll have me as a friend that is?"

All around the classroom, there was complete silence. Ron started to choke; Pansy started to shriek; and Harry… well Harry could only stare at the pale hand in front of him and think of how delicate and soft it looked. He wanted to lick it before he twisted it off.

Since licking and twisting were not an option suitable for the predicament, Harry fell back on his old routine of expecting foul play on Malfoy's part. "And why would I ever want to be friends with you?" he demanded, "You've tortured me and my friends for years!"

Dear Merlin, did Malfoy actually just assume a look of shame?!

Ron started to stutter incoherently and Harry was not that far behind him, especially when Malfoy started to speak again. "I understand if you don't want to accept me; it makes perfect sense that you wouldn't. Let me just say now that I am sorry for all crude gesture and/or words I have said to you in the past. Sure, you think you're better than everyone else, you have fame and favoritism and everyone thinks you're the new Merlin of Magic, but that's beside the point. You're actually a decent person, and I'd like to get to know you better. What do you say?"

There was absolute silence. Ron looked about ready to throw his cauldron at Malfoy and Harry…well, Harry could only stare at his old rival and wonder what the hell had happened to him.

"Are you drunk Malfoy?" he asked slowly, and Malfoy awarded him with a bright smile again.

"Why would you ask me that? Don't I seem perfectly sensible?"

"You've lost your marbles, haven't you?" Ron gaped, "'Perfectly sensible' he says! Malfoy I might have to kick your ass just for saying that!"

Malfoy, surprisingly, did not even acknowledge Ron, instead keeping his attention on Harry. "I understand if you're feeling overwhelmed; I know this is a big change, so maybe I'll just leave and—"

"What's your hidden motive?" Harry roughly questioned before Malfoy could slink away. "Why the hell, after all these years, would you want to try to be my friend, or even my acquaintance, now? What changed?"

Malfoy's eyes, which Harry had never noticed were close to a perfect silver, held no usual glint of malice as they met his. "My feelings changed," he said cryptically. "I'll just be leaving now, if you don't mind. And Harry? Your potion's over flowing; you may want to fix that before Professor Snape gets back."

And then, with another quick smile, Draco Malfoy just walked away to his seat on the Slytherin side of the room. He didn't seem to notice that everyone was gaping at him, just as he didn't notice the indiscernible look in Harry eyes as he watched him walk away.

He didn't bother to clean up his potion—in fact, he had forgotten it completely—so when Snape returned from helping Slughorn he immediately set about deducting points from Gryffindor. He didn't really get much of a reaction. Harry was too busy staring over at Draco Malfoy to even bother to notice his house was losing points and Ron Weasley…

Well, for once Ron Weasley just happened to be speechless.

--

"What the bloody hell in the name of Merlin's tits was that?! It was…what the flying fuck?!"

Well, Ron certainly summed it up nicely. The Trio were on their way to dinner in the Great Hall, and since this morning had not seemed to stop talking about Malfoy's behavior. At least, Ron didn't stop talking about it, insisting throughout the day that Malfoy was possessed or trying to trick them in some way, resulting in him spending an entire class period doing nothing but cursing Malfoy.

Hermione, always the level-headed one, had been disagreeing with Ron by stating plainly that Malfoy had no hidden motives, and, if he did have any, they were personal. She said nothing beyond that, especially when Ron started to accuse her of conspiring with Malfoy, which had resulted in a typical argument that left Hermione stone silent.

In fact, the only talkative one of the three of them was Ron, as Harry could not really be bothered with anything. He spent most of his day in a haze, his mind busy replaying the scene with Malfoy over and over again and still seeing only one thing—Malfoy's smile. It had seemed so genuine, it had been so lovely, and it was infecting Harry's mind. The sweet tone of Malfoy's voice, the way his eyes had seemed so light, almost transparent…

It was all he could think about.

It certainly didn't help matters that Ron would not shut up about Malfoy, and the entire school seemed to be gossiping about the event. Harry could hear Malfoy's name mentioned by nearly everyone they passed on their way to the Great Hall. Tuning Ron's ranting out, Harry tried to listen in to what was being said.

"I think Potter's insane for turning Malfoy down," one Ravenclaw girl giggled to another as they walked past. "I certainly wouldn't turn down a chance to get near him—"

"—got to be something wrong with Malfoy! It just makes no sense—"

"—clearly it's all just a prank and I'm glad Potter didn't fall for it. Who knows what Malfoy—"

"—you know they really are hot together, Malfoy and Potter—"

His cheeks flaming at that last…interesting comment, Harry trudged into the Great Hall with his head down and Ron and Hermione flanking him on both sides. Still he heard the whisperings about him and Malfoy, the flat-out conversations involving them as he and his friends moved to their spot at the Gryffindor table.

Harry thought that everything was going swimmingly until he happened to lift his head a little, tilt his gaze and BAM—Just like that he found his eyes meeting Draco Malfoy's from across the room.

It was as though Malfoy had planned for the entire thing to happen, if the large empty seats around him were any conclusion, as though he wanted Harry to focus on only him. A smile –that smile—was already arranged on his face as Harry looked at him and cursed the world. Damn it all, why the hell did Malfoy always have to look so bloody perfect?!

…And why was it that Harry could not seem to look away?

He stared at Malfoy as he cut his chicken; he stared at Malfoy as he drank his pumpkin juice; he stared at Malfoy as he talked to his friends.

And Malfoy, the entire time, just stared back. He remained suspiciously alone at his table, no one else joining him. His plate remained blank. Despite himself, Harry frowned. Why wasn't Malfoy eating?

He hadn't realized he had asked that question out loud until Ron answered for him. "Good, I hope he never eats! Maybe he'll just starve himself to death and make the world a better place."

"Ronald!" Hermione criticized, temporarily forgetting her anger to frown at the redhead. "That's a horrible thing to say, especially since Malfoy's finally offering something akin to peace!"

"Peace?!" Ron snorted, "Peace she says! Hermione, I already told you Malfoy's too fuckin' evil to even know what the word peace means! Does he honestly think we'll just forgive him for all the shite he's put us through?"

"All he's ever really done is belittle us," Hermione hissed, "And although that's not exactly a…pleasant thing, he's never really attacked us or tried to kill us! I just don't understand—"

Ah, so they were arguing again. Harry tuned them out as he scooped some more food into his mouth and watched Malfoy, sitting all alone, watching him back.

It was then that Harry did what everyone but himself was expecting him to do and dropped his fork and stood up. Immediately all eyes were once again trained on him and silver eyes began to dance in triumph. Harry did not make a big show in approaching Malfoy's table—he fairly stormed up to it, his features hard yet troubled as he took his seat across from his old rival, an empty seat left especially for him.

The Great Hall grew noticeably quieter as all strained to hear what would be exchanged between the Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"Malfoy why are you staring at me?" Well, Harry had never really been one to skit around the subject. Malfoy, although annoyed at this lack of etiquette, allowed it to slide and only widened his smile.

"I was just waiting for you, actually," he replied calmly, "And I thought you liked people staring at you, being the 'Chosen One' and all, hm?"

It seemed that even when trying his best to be nice, Draco Malfoy still ended up being mean. Really, was there honestly any hope for him?

Harry certainly didn't think so, but then again his opinion did happen to be a little biased.

"Shut your face Malfoy," the be- speckled teenager hissed, "Before I shut it for you! And what makes you think that I'd join you over here in this snake pit for dinner?"

Malfoy raised an elegant eyebrow as his smile started to dissolve into a familiar smirk. "Well actually…Do I need to remind you where you currently are? Sitting across from me in the 'snake pit', as you call it. By all appearances, Harry, it seems like you are joining me for dinner."

It took Harry a moment to process what Malfoy had actually said, as he was astounded by the way Malfoy could so easily say his name. Like the hiss of a snake, so smooth and soft and…

Damn it all! "You lured me over here!" Harry exclaimed in what he really hoped sounded like repulsion.

It could be that or joy. Hmm… He was just going to save himself an inner bitch fit and claim them both as the same thing.

Malfoy just looked at him like he was a simpleton. "Well…yes. I am a Slytherin and we're notorious for our underhanded ways. Now Harry—"

Food started to appear on Malfoy's plate and Harry looked down to see the same thing happening on the plate in front of him.

"You may join me if you like. I assure you that I won't mind," Malfoy told him gently as he began to cut his food, never taking his eyes of off Harry to see what he was doing. He was practically positively beaming. Harry just stared; sat there and stared.

This was fucked up; Malfoy's didn't beam! They sneered, they fought, they belittled; they certainly didn't invite their rivals to dine with them!

But then…Malfoy wasn't really his rival anymore, was he? He had 'abdicated' that position, as he had so eloquently put.

Though if Malfoy was no longer a rival and certainly not his friend then…Then what, exactly, was Malfoy to him now?

He could keep him as his enemy, Harry thought as Malfoy offered him some pumpkin juice. All he had to do was push a few buttons and Malfoy would break this visage and go back to comfortably being his enemy, being someone Harry could hate.

And stop being this adorable, dashing, breath-taking blonde boy sitting across from him now.

So Harry lifted his chin, narrowed his eyes, and let the insults fly.

"I still can't figure out how you can live with yourself knowing what failures your parents are. Locked up in Azkaban, aren't they?"

At the mentioning of his parents Malfoy did pause, his fork hovering in midair before slowly lowering. For just a second Harry was delighted to see something hard and cold and familiar flash behind those grey eyes before it was gone, and Malfoy—oh for Merlin's sake—Malfoy was fucking smiling at him again.

"Well, I guess they deserved what they got," Malfoy replied in a mild sort of tone, "I mean, they did kill some people."

Malfoy then proceeded to pour himself some more pumpkin juice. He held out the pitcher. "Want some pumpkin juice Harry?"

Harry blinked. Once, twice, three times, four times, five times, twenty times. And still the vision of the perfectly calm, smiling Malfoy holding out the pitcher for him did not fade. Harry fairly jumped up from his seat, eyes wide and chest heaving.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?!" he shouted, drawing his wand from his robes. He aimed it at Malfoy's face--literally right in his face—and still received no response but a light smile and a faintly scrunched brow.

"Why Harry, I didn't mean to offend you—"

"Offend me?!" Harry fairly shrieked, "You're not offending me at all, and that's the fucking problem! Why aren't you fighting back?!"

Malfoy did nothing but sit there and continue to eat smoothly. He reacted to nothing—not the wand in his face, not Harry's anger, and not the stares of the entire Great Hall weighing down on them.

"I already told you Harry," he stated quietly when the green-eyed boy only continued to glower at him; "I have no intention of being your enemy anymore. If you don't want to be my friend, that's fine but if you don't mind, I don't appreciate you pointing your wand at me. I've done nothing wrong."

"The hell you haven't!" Harry snarled, "You're fucking up to something, I know you are and if I have to hex it out of you then—"

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall gaped from her position at the Head table. In the silence of the Great Hall she had easily overheard Harry's threat, and standing from her seat along with Snape she planned to rectify it. "That is enough! Return to your table and leave Mr. Malfoy alone!"

Harry's gaze was like emerald fire as he turned it on her. "But he started it Professor—"

"No excuses Potter," Snape drawled, "Just be a good student for once and return to your seat."

Harry flushed furiously, missing the smirk that curved at Draco's lips as he looked down at his food. "B-But Professor he—"

"Now Mr. Potter, unless you wish to serve a week's detention for threatening another student," Snape intoned. When Harry cast a glance to McGonagall for help he was not surprised to see her wearing a stern expression similar to Snape's. Bloody teachers and their rules…

Throwing one last dark look at Malfoy, Harry turned and stalked away back to his table. He didn't look up again from his plate for the rest of the meal, even though he could feel Malfoy's eyes still staring holes into him.

He ignored Hermione as she reprimanded him on threatening Malfoy, which of course resulted in another fight with Ron. Throughout their bickering Harry glared at his plate and thought over and over again of Malfoy's smile, Malfoy's words, everything Malfoy.

By the end of his meal he only knew one thing for certain—he'd corner Malfoy soon, very soon, and get his answers. Oh yes, he would get his answers…

If Hermione and Ron noticed the manic look on his face, neither of them commented.

--

Harry spent most of week caught between fuming at Malfoy, cursing Malfoy, thinking about Malfoy and planning against Malfoy. Frankly, Harry spent nearly all his time thinking about Malfoy, Malfoy and more Malfoy. And it was getting to such a point where his friends were growing concerned.

"Harry, you really need to let this go," Hermione told him one evening, after he had gotten back from the Slytherin common room, where he had hid in a corner under his invisibility cloak and watched the blonde do homework. "Malfoy's not up to anything, he just is trying to be…odd. Have you ever considered that he wants to provoke this reaction out of you? He wants to make you stalk him and, well…you're certainly complying."

Harry's answer to Hermione's logic was always the same—he just rolled his eyes, sighed and muttered the word know –it- all under his breath. It wasn't as though he were completely oblivious to his own actions; he knew perfectly well that he really needed to cut back on his stalking and leave Malfoy alone. After all, the blonde was doing a perfectly good job at leaving him alone.

Malfoy had not spoken to him since that day at dinner time, although he still bothered Harry with small smiles thrown his way when they passed one another in the corridors. Smiles which were slowly but surely costing Harry his sanity.

Malfoy had to be up to something; he had to want something; he had to have an ulterior motive. Because without one, he wasn't the Malfoy that Harry knew; without one, he was not his rival but just another student at Hogwarts, just another Slytherin. Without one, what could he be the Harry?

As Harry watched him eat, sleep, study, laugh and live his life from afar, he began to feel something akin to a monster start to rumble in his chest. It roared at the sight of Malfoy, purred every time one of the odd smiles was cast his way, and went into a rampage when Malfoy ignored him, as he didn't seem to mind doing lately.

He insulted people still, sure, but he never insulted Harry, Hermione or even Ron, which was just downright creepy. Although he still did scowl every time Ron was near, but that was just to be expected.

As the week of stalking, strange smiles and frustration on Harry's part grew to a close, Harry was beginning to see what Hermione had seen all along, what Ron had laughed about, what the entire school was whispering about.

Malfoy had changed. He had really changed.

Everyone seemed to benefit from it, too, if the interactions between the Gryffindors and Slytherins were any indication. Yesterday, Blaise Zabini had been spotted laughing with Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas.

Everyone was happy; Malfoy kept smiling; life went on.

So why was it that Harry could not be happy too? Why couldn't he just accept it?

The answer was hidden behind Draco Malfoy's silver eyes.

--

Okay, so maybe Harry's plan had been a little…rash. But he was a Gryffindor after all, and wasn't rashness a house trait?

Or maybe he was just confusing rashness and stupidity.

He hadn't really meant to kidnap Malfoy, it had just sort of…happened.

It had been dark, no one else had been around and Malfoy, coming down the hallway in his direction, had smiled at him.

That smile had ended up being his doom. One quick flick of the wand and Malfoy was prone at his feet. The conveniently placed cupboard down the hall was conveniently used as well. Amongst the mops and old bottles and other used objects Harry had placed the blonde on the floor. Who would have thought that the blonde was so light? He'd carried the other boy here with little problem at all. Staring down into Malfoy's grey eyes on his frozen face, which certainly were a lit with homicidal rage, Harry almost had the inclination to tell him so. Maybe then Malfoy wouldn't hex him that hard when he let him go.

If he ever let him go.

….why did that sound so tantalizing?

Clearing his throat rather loudly, Harry looked down at Malfoy and opened his mouth, preparing to recite the speech he had planned out so perfectly over the past week.

How had it started again?

'Malfoy, as delicious as your smiles are I must tell you to stop them…'

No, that wasn't it! It certainly wasn't because Harry would never think of Malfoy's smiles as anything but pure, absolute evil, EVIL!

'Malfoy, it's not as though I don't like this new you but it's taking me aback. I like you more as my enemy, so go back to fighting me. It's a turn on.'

Ugh that wasn't it either! Although it would be amusing to see the look on Malfoy's face if he did tell him that…

Currently Malfoy looked as though he were killing him with his eyes. Which Harry couldn't really blame him for, seeing as he had a dirty mop next to his face. The speech Harry had put together had mysteriously left his mind under Malfoy's gaze, leaving Harry wondering what exactly he should do. Should he just…wing it? He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he didn't know how to put it correctly…especially considering how Malfoy-and-snogging oriented things were filling his head lately.

"Malfoy," he began at length in a cautious sort of tone. "I don't understand you lately. I mean, I get that you don't want to be enemies anymore but you never really told me why. And without a reason I can't stop calling you my enemy still. I mean, you have to be up to some dastardly plot! Are you planning on trying to befriend me so that you can blackmail me later? If I let you move, you better tell me; I'll make sure that you don't leave this closet until you do!"

Reaching down, he tried not to think about the…subliminal meaning his libido was creating in his words as he disarmed Malfoy, holding the other boy's wand in his other hand as he waved his own, muttering the counter-curse so that Malfoy could move again.

And what were the first words out of Malfoy's mouth?

The words that Harry had missed so much.

"Fuck you Potter! What the bloody hell is your problem?! Accusing me, abducting me and dragging me to this smelly old closet… Just what the fuck did I do?!"

"You know perfectly well what you've been doing!" Harry scowled, crossing his arms and blocking the door, in case Malfoy decided to try to make a run for it. "You've been acting all…nice, and I need to know why."

"Why do you need to know why?" Malfoy demanded right back, "You should be ecstatic in fact; I'm no longer your enemy and I don't bother you and your two little lapdogs. I'm not bothering you so why do you care?"

"Because I know that you're not bothering me for a reason!" Harry growled, "It only makes sense that you're planning something, and I intend to find out what it is!"

For a moment, just a quick moment, Harry could have sworn he saw a flash of hurt in those quicksilver eyes before they were hardened again in anger. "Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean that I'm always planning something, or using manipulation!" Malfoy hissed back, "Maybe I just want to try to make the Malfoy name more respectable, as with my parents in Azkaban we're a laughingstock! Maybe I just want to try to be someone else other than the arrogant prick everyone knows me for! Maybe—"

"Enough!" Harry roared, cutting the blonde boy off as he suddenly lunged at him. Grabbing a fistful of Malfoy's silky hair, he gazed with shining eyes down into that pale, handsome face, now turned up to face him. Staring into the familiar face of his old rival, looking into those silver eyes so close to his own…

"I don't care what you're trying to prove, or what you're really after. I just want you to stop trying to be what you're not! You aren't nice, you don't smile and you hate me! That's the way it has to be!"

Harry couldn't seem to hear the desperation in his own voice but Malfoy, his lovely eyes turned up, certainly did. He stared intently at Harry for a long moment and Harry forced himself to stare back, suddenly hyper aware of just how close Malfoy really was to him. Nearly pressed against him…

"Why does it have to be that way though?" Malfoy whispered softly, his gaze still searching Harry's. And try as Harry hard as Harry did, he found that he could hide nothing from those piercing eyes, nothing from his enemy.

He knew what it meant as soon as Malfoy did.

"Potter—"

"If it's not that way then something will change," Harry cut him off, his voice falling into a whisper. Malfoy's warmth soaked through his shirt and ate at his bones. "If you're not my enemy then everything feels so wrong in my life; if you're not my enemy I have to be reminded that things have changed, that I'm starting to feel like I don't belong! I have to look at you and think that Merlin maybe, just fucking maybe, there's a possibility for more—"

Normally Harry would be angry at Malfoy for cutting him off, but this day he couldn't be. As the blonde smashed their lips together that monster that had been stirring in Harry's chest gave a great big rumbling purr as though it were finally soothed before creeping away quietly, leaving behind only the warm softness of Malfoy's lips.

It was wrong; it was weird; it was just plain scary. But then, what was life without a little of those things?

As the kiss grew more heated and Malfoy fell against him, everything began to click into place. The truce, the smiles, the invitation for dinner, those silver eyes always following him…

Breaking away with a breathless gasp, Harry looked down into the flushed face of his companion. "You planned for this to happen," he accused through kiss swollen lips. "Somehow you knew that I—"

"Well actually I had no idea you liked me," Malfoy breathlessly smiled up at him. "But I knew that I had to try. I was sick of being seen as just you're enemy so I thought that if I eliminated the animosity between us—"

"—I'd see you as something else," Harry finished for him. "Well it worked, you conniving Slytherin. I haven't been able to think about anything but you, although I never imagined…" His green eyes were serious as they peered down into grey ones. "I never imagined this. I mean…So does this mean that you…like me?"

And of course Malfoy had to be the git he still was at heart and laugh in his face at that.

"Of course I 'like' you Potter," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss the frown off Harry's lips. Harry couldn't help but melt under those lips. Damn they were so soft…"As much as a part of me still loathes to admit, I like you. I have for some time now, actually."

"How long?" Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to Malfoy's deliciously distracting jaw line. "How didn't I notice?"

"Because I was your enemy then," Malfoy whispered in his ear, "You weren't meant to see."

"Mmm," Harry moaned as he slid a hand through Malfoy's silken strands. "I certainly see, but I'd much rather feel…"

When Malfoy turned his face up to his, he was smiling. It wasn't the smile Harry had been seeing over the past week, that strange, too wide smile. Rather it was softer, lovelier and oh-so genuine that Harry had no choice but to lean down and kiss it away.

--

"I demand that you start acting like yourself again," Harry whispered into Malfoy's ear as he nibbled on it later, when they were sprawled out and near naked on the closet floor. Although their libidos had been raging, both boys had agreed that they'd rather not have their first time together on the floor in some small, vague closet and instead had kept to fondling and petting, which had worked up until, in a moment of passion, Malfoy's elbow had hit a bucket on the shelf and toppled it over, resulting in a large crash and two very terrified boys shrieking embarrassingly.

After that little scare they had decided to just stick with cuddling on the floor, which would have been perfect if Malfoy weren't being so damn quiet and…un-Malfoyish.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy quietly replied, leaning back into Harry's attentions. "I am being myself."

"No you're not," Harry moved his mouth down Malfoy's neck, talking around the pale, tasty skin as he did. "The Malfoy I know is an arrogant little git who never shuts up. Not…this."

Malfoy became eerily quiet. Under Harry's ministrations he began to tense slowly and growing concerned Harry reluctantly stopped in order to turn the blonde around in his arms to look at him. Malfoy just looked away.

"What is it?" he softly demanded, grabbing Malfoy's chin and lifting his face up. "Have I said something to upset you?"

"No," Malfoy hesitantly replied, slowly meeting Harry's eyes. "It's just that…I thought you liked this new me. This attitude is what attracted your attention, wasn't it?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry gently chastised. "This sweet, quiet attitude you've acquired lately has, quite frankly, scared the magic out of me! I was so angry this past week because you weren't the little arsehole I remembered and, in a sadistic way, enjoyed being around. I miss the snarky, annoying, insulting, pissy you. And that's probably the weirdest part of all this."

Malfoy's eyes, which had widened at Harry's words, slowly began to soften as his face gentled. The mischievous smirk that Harry had unknowingly missed so much over the past week began to slowly bloom over the blonde's features as he looked up through his thick lashes at Harry.

"Hm, who knew Harry Potter was such a masochist? Should I start to talk dirty to you Golden Boy? Should I make you—" he leaned in, let his lips brush the pulse point on Harry's neck. "—squirm?"

Harry's hands came around his Slytherin like vices. "There you are," those green eyes glowed, leaning in to destroy that smirk with a heated kiss. "There you are, Draco…"

And all was right with the world. Well, at least as right as two formal rivals snogging in a smelly old closet was.

--

The next day, Draco Malfoy was snarkier than ever, witticism flying and cutting down all who dared come near him.

The next day, Harry Potter could not stop smiling, even as Draco Malfoy threw insults at him, even as his cauldron bubbled over in Potions class and earned him a detention. Draco Malfoy offered to clean it up with him.

The next day, Ronald Weasley learned that not only was Draco Malfoy an insane git, but by the way Harry was staring at him, Harry was now one too.

--

I plan on making several one-shots liked this, based on a word not commonly used, even by those who know the definition. I'd love to hear any comments, questions, etc, etc, through a nice pretty little review! ;)