I'm working on Chapter 20 of Inside Your Mind, I promise. In the meantime, I got bored and had this idea so I just wrote it as something funny. I needed cheering after reading HBP. ) This is probably not going to be a very long, though.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K.R. does, as always.

Summary: One day in Hogsmeade gives a certain blonde some ideas about our favorite Gryffindor, who, in turn, seems to be encouraging them. Hmmm…HP/DM.

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Chapter One – The Beginning

Even Draco Malfoy, the icy blonde viewed as the Slytherin prince, could not deny that it was a beautiful day to be walking in the sunshine towards Hogsmeade. It was his the first weekend trip of his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he was immensely relieved to get out of the dungeons for once. It was also the first Hogsmeade where Voldemort was not a threat, seeing as none other than Harry Potter had finally managed to defeat the bastard after a month of war in the summer.

It figures he was the one to do it, Draco thought. Wouldn't want to let down the Harry Potter fan base, otherwise known as the wizarding community to those of us who could care less about that fucking jagged scar.

The walk was relatively silent for Draco; the only noise that he endured was the chatter of his classmates around him. He easily blocked this out, seeing as none of it was directed towards him. The majority of his House had basically cut contact with him when he had refused the offer to become a Death Eater; in fact, he only kept his one and closest friend, Blaise Zabini, after the ordeal ended. Blaise was with him, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, which was an uncommon enough occurrence that Draco wondered why.

He nudged the tall, dark-haired boy with his elbow as they walked. Looking up from the ground, Blaise pushed his dark brown hair behind his ear before giving his friend a questioning glance.

"You look thoughtful. It's disturbing."

But Blaise didn't react to the slight barb. Something seemed to have caught his gaze, and Draco's silver eyes followed the path of the other's deep brown ones, finally settling a sandy-haired Gryffindor.

Draco looked at his friend with an eyebrow raised, waiting. After a few moments, he prompted softly, "Seamus Finnegan?"

Eyes darkening, the other looked down again, seeming decidedly more miserable. Draco set about putting two and two together himself, as Blaise apparently wasn't going to help. His eyes widened and he looked from the Gryffindor in question and then at his friend.

"Please don't tell me you like that Irish fool."

Blaise said nothing, confirming the statement and making Draco sigh. Blaise's sexuality was a well-known fact, and Draco had no problems whatsoever with it. He, too, far preferred males to females, actually, but Blaise was the only one who knew that. But why a Gryffindor? He voiced this question.

Realizing he wasn't going to get out of this without speaking, Blaise looked up once more. "I don't know," he practically whispered, actually sounding kind of pathetic, unlike the Blaise that Draco was used to. Draco took a second look at his friend, at his tired eyes and his confused expression and took pity on him.

"Are you going to do anything?"

Blaise looked even more confused, if that was possible. "I don't think I should."

"Well, I think you should," Draco said firmly. The other Slytherin looked at him for a moment before his eyes lit up at Draco's acceptance. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Draco replied with a slight smile. "Now, stop looking so pathetic or I will be forced to smack you."

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Two hours later, Draco headed into The Three Broomsticks, weighted down by three large bags from Glad Rags Wizard Wear and a lone one from Honeydukes. He saw an empty table and headed there immediately, quite keen on putting down his bags and ordering a butterbeer. No sooner had he sat down and ordered one, however, he was graced by the presence of Harry Potter, who sat down across from him without an apparent thought to whether or not Draco would mind.

"Make that two," Potter interrupted, handing the waitress a Galleon. "And keep the change." She gave him a wide, flirtatious smile before heading away.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Show off much, Potter?"

"Malfoy, do you think you bought enough? You know, I really don't see why people have problems with the amount you spend on your appearance." He suddenly grabbed one of the bags and reached inside, grinning at what he happened to pull out. "Silk boxers? No, I don't think you like clothes too much at all."

Snatching back both his bag and boxers from Potter's hand, he scowled while somehow resisting the childish urge to hit Potter upside his annoying head. Choosing to ignore the disturbance in his afternoon, he let his eyes wander throughout the pub. They came to rest on Blaise, who was at the counter, talking to Seamus, both boys smiling widely. Draco picked a piece of crumpled parchment from his pocket and flung it at his friend's head. Turning around with a scowl, Blaise gave him the finger. Grinning lazily, the blonde cocked an eyebrow in Seamus's direction, amusement shining in his silver eyes at the sudden blush on his friend's face.

"Where are the Weasel and the Mudblood, Potter? Off snogging somewhere?"

Potter shrugged carelessly. "Probably."

Draco sneered. "Oh look, they've left you all alone. How sad."

"Your one and onlyfriend, if I may point out, has left you to flirt with a member of your rival House. You are in no better a position then I am when it comes to the priorities of those close to us."

Draco smirked. "True enough," he conceded.

The waitress then returned with their drinks, and Draco returned his attention to his warm butterbeer.

"It's good, though," he heard Potter comment. He turned in the other's direction, waiting for him to continue. "Seamus won't shut up about Zabini. Maybe now he'll be too busy snogging him to talk about him."

For some reason, hearing Potter talk so casually about two boys snogging made the blonde choke on the sip of butterbeer he had just taken.

The blonde just looked at him. "You, um…you don't have a problem with Seamus being gay?"

Potter smiled, a genuine smile that Draco had never imagined would be directed at him. "That would be rather hypocritical of me, I think."

He choked again.

"You alright there, Malfoy?"

He only nodded, not sure why this news of Potter's sexuality caused him to react so.

Looking for something to do to distract himself, Draco rummaged in his cloak, extracting an amount of coins that was sufficient enough to pay for the drink Potter had cockily paid for. After sliding them across the table to Potter, he surveyed the other with suspicious silver eyes.

His glare traveled from Potter's ever-messy mass of raven hair, over his fair skin, to the scar he was so famous for. They flitted over to startling green eyes, so piercing while still managing to remain innocent, coming to rest finally on Potter's mouth. Potter's frustrating mouth. He had small mouth, yet with such full lips that Draco found himself wondering how much his hatred for Potter would diminish if the other simply pouted those lush, damnable –

"I'm glad to see you've stopped staring at me like I've poisoned your drink when all I've done is pay for it."

Draco looked up quickly, startled. When had his gaze lost its suspicion? Better yet, when had his thoughts? Risking a glance into Potter's eyes, he saw pure mischief, green glinting at him, almost beckoning him. Something in his stomach stirred, and he looked down, only to find that mouth curved in a small, sexy smirk.

Wait…what?

Before he could explore his latest thoughts, they were disrupted by the return of his coins. Glaring at Potter, he snapped, "I am paying you back, don't waste your breath trying to convince me-"

"Oh, no worries, I fully intend to have you pay me back," replied Potter, his voice far too casual for Draco's liking.

"Then take the fucking money."

"I don't want to." Flashing another smirk that, much to Draco's annoyance, seemed only to accentuate the fullness of that frustrating mouth, he continued. "I believe that I wish to explore…other options of repayment."

Draco, for the life of him, could not deny the prominent shiver that ran down his spine at Potter's words, nor did he understand that sudden trembling of his slender hands at what followed.

The other had leaned across the table, stopping a mere five or six inches from Draco's face, whispering, "You see, Draco," he said, emphasizing his almost illicit use of the blonde's first name, "I have a belief that we might benefit very nicely from time spent in each other's company."

With his silver eyes glued to Potter's mouth and his entire body now trembling, Draco barely managed to stand. Once on his feet, however, he hid his shaking hands behind his back and attempted to glare harshly at Potter. The affect was somewhat lost, since Potter, sitting across from him, could see the shaken gaze that Draco had thought he had managed to control. Before Potter could point this ever-so-kindly point this out to the blonde, however, he had gathered his bags and stalked from the table.

Not offended in the least, Harry only grinned.

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As Draco stormed out, Blaise caught up with him, and the blonde eyed him warily.

"Shouldn't you be seducing Finnegan right now?"

Blaise grinned. "He's waiting for me inside."

"So what are you doing here, then?" he snapped irritably.

"What was that about in there?" Blaise asked, ignoring Draco's mood.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, I haven't seen you look that shaken since Parkinson decided to surprise you in your room that one night over the summer and I had to rescue you."

Draco stopped walking and shuddered, turning to glare at Blaise. "You didn't rescue me," he said haughtily. His friend rolled his eyes. "Fine, you must have Stupefied her while she had you backed against the wall, then."

When the blonde's mouth opened in protest, Blaise held up a hand. "Anyway, getting back to the point. What did Potter say to you?"

To his horror, Draco blushed. "It's not important," he mumbled.

Blaise pointed a finger at his flaming face. "See, that just means it is," he pointed out unhelpfully.

Growling, Draco attempted to stalk away once more, but Blaise stopped him.

"Draco," he said softly. "You can tell me."

"Fucking Potter and his fucking mouth!"

Blaise waited.

Not disappointing him, Draco's rant continued. "His stupid, frustrating mouth! Fucking Potter and his insinuations and his fucking sexuality. What, is he trying to fuck with my head? Why in Merlin's name is he messing with my head in this particular fashion?"

Blaise's eyes widened. "What did Potter say to you, exactly?"

"He paid for my fucking drink, and I had to go be a nice bloke and try to bloody pay him back. But no, of course that doesn't work. I attempt to be decent and I get Potter leaning across a table, whispering to me."

"Whispering what?"

Draco, who had been pacing furiously, whipped around to face Blaise. "He told me he wanted to explore other options of payment," he hissed. "He told me that he thought we would benefit very nicely from each other's company."

"Whoa," Blaise breathed.

"What fucking game is he playing?" Draco raged. Suddenly, he stopped. "No."

"No, what?" Blaise replied wearily.

"I won't let him fuck with me like this. The only reason I reacted to his fucking statements was because I didn't expect them from Potter. That's all. It doesn't matter. Not one fucking bit."

He stalked off towards Hogwarts while a slow grin spread across Blaise's face. Draco Malfoy in denial was always one hell of a sight.