Amortentia.

Harry Potter didn't know, at first, what to expect when he witnessed Pansy slip some into Draco's goblet at the feast that night. He may have made an express effort to show his hatred for Malfoy at first, but he really did begin to have feelings about the guy as time went on. If anything, he knew there was absolutely no point in turning back and pretending to be friendly again; by the time he realized what he was doing, it was already too late. Draco hated him.

Curse his eleven-year-old self for not taking the chance of friendship when he had it. Instead, he was stuck here watching helplessly as the distinctly pearly sheen of the liquid dissipated into - was that tea?

It didn't matter. He winced, expecting to see some serious humiliation as Draco turned, almost looking at Pansy, but then Draco kept going.

Who...?

Their eyes locked, and Harry suddenly felt his chest bubble with dread.

Oh hell.

He frowned when nothing happened for a few seconds, then pointed at his goblet. Malfoy frowned too and stared at his, then gasped quietly - don't think about anything, Harry, don't think about anything - and turned to Pansy, sending her a glare which quickly melted into a pout when she giggled.

Harry sighed in relief and turned back to his food. At least it's her and not me.

Draco Malfoy was having a bad day.

Not only would that one pesky strand of hair not stay in place, but Pansy had snuck something into his drink. It had already sunken to the bottom of his cup, but he was more than willing to bet that if he touched it, it would be worse, and people would think him disgusting. Instead, he placed down his goblet and made his best begging face while asking Pansy to tell him what it was.

"Not telling," she said simply, giggling at his expression. Drat! It seemed like she was happy about it for some reason.

"Potter's looking ridiculous, as usual," she continued, giggling some more. Ugh, girls. Draco couldn't wait to get away from her and perhaps stalk Harry for a bit. Yes, that would be nice.

He didn't even bother to stop himself thinking about Harry as he continued to eat his food. There was no point; he was already pretty obsessed. He'd already found Potter amazing before he'd even met him, but when he had, he found himself acting like a fool. Was it the sassiness? Maybe. The kindness? Probably, Slytherin was pretty much coming up dry in that department, and there wasn't much at home either. Those lovely green eyes? Almost definitely. Staring contests were a good excuse. He'd have to initiate another later - maybe he could catch Harry studying and start one in the library, just the two of them lost in each other?

Nah, Potter didn't study often enough. Maybe he'd have to insult him about his intelligence next time, that would get him studying. Potter always had to be the best, after all, and he was the best person to pick up on Harry's shortcomings, even if they were few and far between.

Pansy was patting his shoulder and pointing at Potter. Draco rolled his eyes and turned, glancing back as Potter did something to make the rest of the Gryffindors laugh. He smirked and called across the tables, "Think you're funny, eh, Potter?"

Oh, he could feel the rage rolling off of the boy as he turned around and frowned. That was really cute, actually, but - oh, what was he saying now?

"Funnier than you," he retorted, and oh that was adorable.

He caged up the desperate desire to just up and say 'mine' right there in the hall, so instead he shot back, "Oh really? Well, that's definitely the funniest joke I've heard you tell in a while." The Ravenclaws put two and two together first, a few snickering but no major reactions, and then the Slytherin table got it and devolved into laughter. He grinned, watching Harry's frown deepen with a tingling of glee until that bloody Granger girl pulled him off it.

Curses! Harry's attention was stolen away, though he was certain they were talking about him now. Good. He wanted Harry to think of him as often as he thought of Harry. It would serve him right for standing by the minion-esque Weasley when he offered his friendship.

Pansy seemed concerned, now. Draco rolled his eyes and turned his attention to her instead for a bit, loathe as he was to allow it. He wanted to stare at Potter, couldn't he do that in peace by now?

"Are you... feeling alright?" She inquired randomly. "You look a bit pale."

Draco snorted. "Pale?" He laughed. "I've always been pale, Pansy. Unless that potion of yours was supposed to turn me white as chalk?"

She shook her head. "No, it was supposed to-" she stopped herself, covering her mouth. "Nevermind," she brushed it off, but Draco wasn't having it.

"Right, next you'll be telling me it's some sort of illegal potion meant to embarrass me beyond belief," Draco snorted, but when he didn't get an answer, he froze, then turned to his goblet.

Then he grabbed it, sniffed it experimentally, and was attacked by the smell of the Quidditch pitch, cinnamon, and something he recalled smelling whenever Harry got particularly close, probably some sort of cologne he used.

Amortentia.

He turned back to Pansy and hissed, "Am I acting weird? Who'd I look at first?"

"No, and... um... Potter." She tried to pull an innocent face, but he just sighed in relief.

"Oh, good, I can brew a hate potion to counter it before anyone notices," Malfoy muttered, placing down his goblet and getting up. "Pansy, just because I'm leaving it here for now does not mean you're getting away with this," he hissed, rushing out the doors, even though his pounding heart was screaming for him to return to Harry's side, or at least be in the same room with him. He ignored Pansy's protests and dashed down to the potions room and quickly began to grab the ingredients, pulling down a potions book and skimming quickly to the right page.

Harry was deep in thought. Did the potion fail? Why did Draco run out of the room like that? Was he ill?

He shook it off. He wasn't exactly known for his thinking power - that was Hermione's department. Instead, he got up and waved off his friend's protests, then ran out of the room to follow Draco. It wasn't hard; all he had to do was run up to the common room and grab the map before anyone noticed and find Draco. Maybe he could even help him.

Oh god, what was he thinking? Never in a million years would he help Draco of all people. It would be unheard of. Ron would refuse to talk to him, and Hermione would scold him like there was no tomorrow. Really, they expected him to hate Draco's guts, which was probably why he kept coming up with sweet retorts to vague threats.

He felt a thin hand grab his arm, and with a vague sense of horror he turned around to see Pansy. She let go and awkwardly motioned for him to follow her. Feeling stupid, he allowed it, chasing her footsteps down the halls and further into the dungeons. They slowed, and she stopped him, hissing through a finger pressed to her lips.

"Draco is in the dungeon brewing a hate potion," she supplied. "I'm sorry this happened, I was certain he'd look at some Slytherin and it would just be a house joke, not something that would get in the prophet," she winced.

Harry didn't bat an eye at the Slytherin helping him. He didn't have time to. "Should I go help him, or...?"

"Point is, I think it failed. Zero change," Pansy explained, "but... I tested it before, made Blaise go ga-ga over some third-year," she explained, "and it worked perfectly. Either it went past best-before, in which case he really shouldn't take an antidote if he knows what's good for him, or-" she blinked as Harry rushed past.

"Thanks, Pansy! I'll be right back after I tell him that!" He cried, hurrying down the steps.

Pansy barely tried to stop him. Then a smile creeped onto her face as she watched her handiwork go down into the dungeons.

"It worked," she murmured. "and now those bloody queers'll stop dodging each other. Thank god, Draco was becoming unbearable..." she muttered as she walked away.

Harry threw the door open and stopped short, staring at Draco, who was surfing desperately through a book.

"Not now, not now," he muttered, eyes going wide. Harry closed the door and approached.

"Listen, one, I'll pretend anything that happens here never happened," he started, "and two, don't drink any potions. Pansy figures the Amortentia had gone off, that's why it didn't work like it's supposed to-"

Draco whipped out his wand and said rapidly, "Shut up."

Harry frowned.

Draco turned away. "It worked," he said quietly, "so please, stop looking at me like that."

Harry's eyes went wide. "You must have pretty strong mental defenses to fight it that well," he commented, though he walked back a few steps.

"I didn't have to," Draco murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. Scarhead." Draco spat. "Shut up, I don't know how long it is before Pansy's potion gets the better of me and I end up doing things no self-respecting Malfoy would do."

Draco looked at Harry and found himself swiftly wishing he hadn't.

Draco already knew he was obsessed, so while the effects of Amortentia didn't change much, he felt vaguely like he was on a Harry-themed acid trip, where everything related to Harry was highlighted. He couldn't focus on anything else. All he could see through his blurry vision was Harry's eyes, his face, his unkempt hair...

He was staring, he felt himself leaning forward a bit. What surprised him was that Harry wasn't running away.

He somehow managed to cover his eyes, ripping himself away from the love he'd given up on long ago. "Leave," he said, though to him it sounded like a pitiful beg for mercy, "please." Ugh, how horrible that word felt in this situation.

Harry glanced at the door, then turned back.

Draco hissed at himself, gripping his head and making certain to cover his eyes better. No, no, he wouldn't do it-

Harry touched his shoulder, and he exploded.

First was a gripping hug that he figured would quickly escalate to him lying on the ground with a broken nose, but no, Harry let it happen, even reciprocating with a slender arm around Draco's back. Then it was Draco staring up into those beautiful eyes, desperate, searching, and found that he was met with confusion, reluctance, maybe... something he couldn't quite describe, somewhere between curiosity and longing.

And damn, Harry was handsome. He really shouldn't be letting the potion give him excuses to get up close and personal, but right there, he didn't really feel like he could resist. His mental barriers had been broken down and he was feeling full-blown desperation for all things Harry that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Somehow he managed to pin Harry against a wall. Now he wasn't even sure what this was, but whatever it was, he was making the most of it.

He pushed his lips against Harry's and silently cast a silencio on both of them. He would kill anyone who saw this.

Then he delved deeper, tasting Harry, feeling Harry, relishing in it. So this was what he was missing out on. He would have this. This was going to be his, no one could tell him otherwise.

Harry wasn't sure what to do.

He was liking this. Draco's kiss was rough, forced, but it felt amazing. He tried to ignore the tingling feeling he was getting, but he still didn't know what to do. Should he fight back? He had his wand, he could just petrify him and be done with it, but he kind of wanted to see - okay, participate - in what happened next.

He grabbed his wand tentatively as Draco pushed up against him. It briefly occurred to him that once the potion wore off Draco would be back to hating his guts, and he raised his wand.

Draco promptly grabbed it and threw it across the room.

Alright, scratch that plan.

Then he was back to that foggy place where Draco was occupying his mouth and oh, that felt nice. So he barely noticed one of Draco's hands gripping his shirt until the other reached behind him and grabbed his hair.

They separated for only a moment - Draco's eyes looked kind of diluted and fuzzy, like he was just as disorientated as Harry was - and then it was back to being devoured. He felt a weight off his back - well, there goes his robes, he thought briefly - and then twitched as Draco's hand snaked up his side under his shirt. He pulled away and forced his mouth shut. Draco was going to remember this, definitely, and if he didn't resist- well, it wouldn't be good. That's all he could think when Draco moved on to his neck and Harry had to resist making any noise. If he moaned he'd never live it down, Draco would be silently judging him forever-

He was gripped by the cheek, his mouth forced open, and it was back to kissing him. Harry wondered briefly if it was a blessing or a curse, but his mind was too fuzzy to think beyond that.

You're never going to get another chance to do this.

That's what was going through Draco's head as he grabbed Harry with his mouth again, relishing in every moment he got. He had the vague feeling that Harry was fighting back, but really, since he had an excuse, he didn't feel so cruel forcing Harry into this. He felt guilty, but he couldn't really back off now. He just had to keep going, pretend that the Amortentia was doing its work, and he could have as much Harry as he wanted. It becoming worse, he really wanted to just tear off Harry's clothes and do his worst, but he had some of his decency still. Maybe if he didn't, Harry wouldn't decide to reveal the situation.

He stopped for a bit longer as he pulled away from Harry's lips, resisting the temptation to just grab him again and forcing himself to move away a bit, getting a good look at Harry's face.

Lips slightly parted, eyes wide, glasses crooked - he looked like, well... like someone had decided to grab him and devour him. Draco reached out and took away the glasses. Damn, Harry's eyes were mesmerizing. He dropped the glasses and reached forward again, but Harry shook his head and grabbed Draco's arm, trying to say something.

Draco pushed forward and kissed him again. There would be no protests. He didn't want this to stop, but if Harry told him to, that would be the end of this. All this heaven, it would be gone in a flash if Harry managed to make him stop. He wondered briefly why Harry didn't just punch him and run, but ignored it. He was just glad he had this, nipping Harry's lip and smirking at the twitch, the lidded eyes, his tiny, soundless gasp. Yes, it was working. He just had to make him want it...

He pushed. The vague sense of something against his leg, between Harry's, and he felt Harry give up, physically sinking and relaxing, handing over control. He reached forward and kissed Harry again, this time tracing along Harry's chest, feeling Harry twitch and gulp and react in ways Draco thought he'd never see. It was incredible. The Chosen One, saint Potter, made to relent to him. He stole Harry's lips again and let himself explore.

Then something broke and Harry pushed Draco away, wiping his lip as Draco lay on the floor, motionless.

Well, there goes that, Draco thought glumly, and waited for something to happen.

The first thing Harry went for were his robes. He flung them over himself and then raced for his wand, just as Ron burst through the door and yelled something vaguely incomprehensible. Harry didn't care; he just cast a weak petrificus totalus and raced out the door, pushing Ron out and into Hermione and slamming the door shut.

Right, I'd better leave, Harry thought, racing away. Hermione and Ron flanked him, peppering him with questions that he didn't have the energy to answer, and he dashed into the common room, threw himself into his bed, and refused to get out.

"Harry, what happened down there?" Hermione asked, worried.

"Yeah, mate, that bastard didn't hurt you, did he?" Ron joined in.

Harry peered over the covers and felt his vision blur even more than it already was. He muttered a quick finite which got rid of the silencio. "Tell them I'm sick," he murmured, and then hid under the covers again. Hermione was about to protest, but Ron pulled her away and they left him to mope in bed.

He touched his face and felt his eyes go damp. "Well, there you go, Harry," he sighed. "and it's only what you deserve."

It was around lunchtime that an owl dove through the window and handed Harry a letter, crudely written on a spare piece of parchment, and he grabbed it, handing the bird a sickle and a small treat from the ones he kept for Hedwig, and waited for the owl to leave. He grabbed the letter and read through it, wondering how Draco could bear to strike through his handwriting so many times, considering how prideful he was about it.

To Harry, the letter read, and already a few intros were struck out, including 'to my love' and among others that Harry didn't want to think about. I need to talk to you about this. This sentence was peppered with cross-outs of things like 'kiss' and even more desperate words, and Harry remembered feeling slightly ill that they had been crossed out, even if they were sloppy and adoring. Meet me at the Library while everyone is in the great hall for dinner. Harry didn't even bother to investigate the crossed-out words for this one; apparently Draco was having a really hard time fighting the potion. He groaned and hid under the covers again, deciding after a moment to hide the parchment under his mattress. If anyone found out about this, it would be... horrible.

Harry snuck quietly into the library, turning a corner and going to the edge of the room, where Madame Pince couldn't watch him, or any of the things that were about to happen. If anything, she'd find him knocked out on the ground, probably from Draco punching him for one thing or another.

He caught sight of the blonde almost instantly, and despite trying to relax, his breath hitched and quickened, and he peered at Draco carefully, trying to make out his features.

"So. Um. Potter." Draco said slowly. "The potion wore off," he began slowly, "since I didn't take too much... that was thanks to you pointing it out, so I guess I should be thanking you for that."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Was this Draco or someone else?

"Oh, here are your glasses, I repaired them," he continued, pushing them into Harry's hands. Harry quickly adjusted them onto his face and gave Draco a good, long look.

Yep, definitely Draco.

"And, well," Draco looked shifty now, he was definitely nervous - "while I'd love to mock you into the next century over this, it's equally, if not more embarrassing, for me. So, I suggest we forget any of this ever happened."

Harry nodded slowly, taking in that information. He guessed he could pretend, although it really was heavenly, what had happened-

No. Nonononono. STOP. THINKING. ABOUT. DRACO.

He sighed and turned away. He didn't have the capacity to do this. He couldn't face Draco after this. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumped back, eying Draco nervously.

Draco looked at him for a few moments, then swore. "Ugh, why can't I do anything right for once?!"

Okay, that was different. This definitely wasn't what he expected Draco to do. What had changed?

"D- er, Malfoy... are you alright? You're acting weird," Harry commented, cursing himself the moment it left his lips. Why was he such an idiot? Why should he even show an inkling of caring what happened to the prat?

And he's a damn beautiful prat, too, his mind supplied for him, and he pounced on himself, suppressing the thought as quickly as possible.

"No, no I'm NOT alright!" Draco hissed, grabbing Harry by the shoulders. "I'm bloody gay, and Malfoys don't have that luxury! Do you have any idea-" he stopped short, let go, and nearly ran headfirst into a bookcase, being stopped from receiving Madame Pince's rage only by Harry grabbing his arm.

"For who?" Harry asked numbly, not even sure why he cared. For a few moments they just stood there, and then Draco acted, ripping his arm away.

Draco growled in frustration, grabbed Harry and forced him into a passionate kiss that finished with him running off, leaving Harry to wonder what happened.

That night, Harry woke up to someone knocking on the wall next to the painting of the Fat Lady. He got up and quickly dashed through, wand at the ready.

"Stop, um-" Draco frowned. "Ugh, nevermind. Just-" Harry found himself being dragged away, the Fat Lady casting them a disapproving look as Draco pulled Harry through the halls.

"I really should have brought my invisibility cloak," Harry commented, but Draco didn't reply. Instead, he hissed through a finger pressed to his lips and dragged Harry down to the dungeons.

Draco slammed the door shut and pulled out his own wand. "Harry Potter." he murmured, the malice that he usually held in his voice drained down to a quiet comment.

"Why?" Harry asked simply, not really sure what he was even looking for. Draco blinked and groaned, gripping his head and hissing.

"Look, if this somehow doesn't kill me first, I'm obliviating you so that we can go back to hating each other's guts." He said quickly, approaching fast. "I'm in love with you. I know nothing good can-"

"Are you sure the Amortentia wore off?" Harry asked numbly. Surely, this wouldn't-

"Yes."

Oh. Alright. That's something.

"You're actually, honestly in love with me?" Harry asked disbelievingly. This is happening. I'm fairly certain I'm just dreaming, but I'll roll with it.

Draco nodded numbly, reaching out slowly, leaving plenty of openings.

Harry hugged him.

They stood there for a bit, feeling each other's presence, and Harry whispered, "I love you, too."

Draco spoke up next, fingers tensing along Harry's back. "Why didn't you say so?"

"My friends hated you, and I wasn't willing to jeopardize... whatever it is we have. You could have very well mocked me into the next century." Harry admitted, sighing. "I don't even know what's going to happen. It's kind of strange, isn't it? We're practically enemies in everyone else's eyes."

Draco nodded. "True. If we just suddenly showed up snogging each other, I'm sure they'd assume it was a horrible prank gone wrong, or otherwise they'd put you on a pedestal again and beat me up."

"Hey, don't say that," Harry frowned. "I get enough of that from the press. I didn't ask to be a catalyst."

"No," Draco admitted, "but it is hilarious." Then he reached out and kissed him.

This one was gentle, soft and curious wary to the point of hesitation. Harry accepted it, and for a few minutes they let silence take over, just exploring each other more willingly than they had before.

Harry pulled away. "So. Are we just going to pretend this didn't happen? I don't really want to do that."

Draco's mind started forming a plan. "We could keep it secret," he offered. Harry nodded along, letting him continue. "You don't have any classes you're failing, right?" he asked.

"No, but Potions is killing my other marks," Harry allowed. Draco smiled.

"Good, use that as an excuse. Tell your friends that you go to study during lunchtimes or something." Harry nodded along, smiling.

"So, the library?" Harry inquired, and Draco grinned.

"Yeah. I go there often enough, I'll just say it's a change of schedule." They pulled apart. "I'll go first, start tomorrow. You don't start going until next week, alright? I don't want people getting suspicious." Harry nodded seriously.

"It's weird hearing you talk sense," Harry snickered. Draco pouted, but they soon let it go. "so. I guess I'll see you in a week."

Draco nodded. "Until then, let's just ignore each other," he decided. "Who knows, maybe we can plan some scuffles, just so that nobody finds out."

Harry smirked. "You like our fights?"

"Not as much as I like kissing you," Draco replied, and that was that. Lips met and they stayed there for at least an hour before finally pulling apart and cleaning themselves up a bit, rushing back to their dorms before anyone noticed they were gone.

A/N; Enjoy. Also, if anyone wants another chapter (haha as if), please leave a review expressing as such, since I don't have all the time in the world I need to know people want this. I'm sorry if either of them are acting OOC, I just needed somewhere to put all that sexual tension, dammit.