So I've decided to become a Harry Potter fanatic again.

You're Cute
One.

Ten seconds left in the game. Harry reaches out for the snitch, stretching his hand as far as he can, and yes- his hands wrap around it. He's caught it, and has won the game for Gryffindor.

The crowd erupts into cheers, all except the Slytherins, who boo disapprovingly. Like Harry and Draco Malfoy, Slytherins and Gryffindors are enimies. Polar opposites. Of course they wouldn't cheer for their rival house. That wouldn't make any sense.

As Harry's friends crowded around him, lifting him up in the air and continuing their cheers and chants of; 'Good job Harry!', Malfoy landed his broomstick a few feet away, and glared in his direction.

Noticing his angry expression, Harry turned to smirk tauntingly at him, only wanting to provoke him. Seeing him angry gave him satisfation. At first he thought he enjoyed it so much because he just plainly liked seeing him angry, but later on he realized it was because... it was adorable. Yes, adorable. And that meant Harry thought Malfoy was... adorable. The thought sickened him. Or, he thought it did.

He had only started realizing his feelings for his rival this year. The urges to touch him, to anger him, it all added up to one thing. Harry... he liked Malfoy. And not just as a friend.

That thought disturbed him more than anything.

What would his friends say once they found out he liked... boys? Or worse, that he liked Malfoy?

He just couldn't bring himself to tell anyone. Not even Ron and Hermione. They'd hate him. They'd think he was disgusting, vile, putrid...

The crowd had long since subsided, and Harry was now aware that Malfoy was making his way towards him, a small smirk placed on his face. That could only mean one thing. Trouble.

"Hey Potter," Malfoy called out, now only a foot away.

Harry could make out the taunting edge to his voice. The voice that basically meant he was not happy.

"Malfoy," Harry said in that cold, expression-less voice that he saved just for speaking to him.

"That game was luck, you know. I could've caught that snitch in ten seconds flat."

Harry raised an eyebrow and propped himself up against his broom. He was going to enjoy this.

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you?"

Taking a few more steps forward, Malfoy looked straight into his pickle-coloured eyes, that smirk still playing across his lips, teasing him, saying; 'kiss me, kiss me.' But Harry knew that Malfoy would never want him to kiss him. In fact, he wouldn't even want him to touch him.

"Because."

"Because?"

The smirk grew wider.

"Because I couldn't take my eyes off you. I couldn't focus. I can never focus. You mess me up bad, Potter. You're cute, you know that?"

Harry stumbled backwards, unable to believe his ears. He was truly shocked.

"W-what?"

Malfoy took a few more steps forward so that their faces were only inches apart.

"You want to kiss me, Potter?"

Harry bit his lip, his eyes wide. He just wouldn't say anything. This was a joke. One of the Slytherins had put him up to it to freak him out. It was working.

Reaching forward, Malfoy traced his lips with his finger.

Harry was now officially shocked. He touched him.

"You want to kiss me? Because I want to kiss you."

Harry, eyes still wide, hardly nodded. But it was still a nod, and Malfoy still seemed to notice that he had.

The kiss was quick, soft, and only lasted for a couple seconds. It was the kind of kiss that leaves you begging for more, needing more so badly... But Malfoy didn't offer any more kisses, and Harry didn't say anything else.

"Did you like that, Potter?"

"Malfoy... I... I like you but, we c-"

He stopped short, realizing that he'd just admitted to liking his enime, realizing thta he still wasn't sure if it was just a joke.

Who was he kidding? This was not a joke. Malfoy would never kiss him if he didn't like him... that way. There was no denying it.

He took a deep breath and continued.

"We can't. Our friends... I'm not willing to give all that up... I can't see you. I can't date you. I can't... kiss you."

Malfoy, seeming to understand, nodded.

"I just wanted to let you know."

Then, without saying anything else, he swiftly turned around and headed back towards the castle, leaving Harry to contemplate what had just happened. If he'd been dreaming, if he'd simply imagined it all...

But he hoped it hadn't just been a figment of his imagination. That would be like having an excellent dream, waking up and wanting to just go back to sleep and return to your dream, but never being able to.

If he had imagined that moment, it would be unbearable.

He, Harry Potter, had kissed Draco Malfoy.