You hex me, I hex you.

When Harry returned to Hogwarts after the war, he figured it would be a quiet uneventful year in which he could finally focus on his studies. No more Horcruxes, no more Death Eaters, no more Voldemort. What more could Harry have to face? He'd already died once and he'd faced Voldemort more times than he could count. Surely that's all the world had in store for Harry Potter? Surely there was nothing else sent his way to challenge him? Nothing else that could make his heart stop in fear?

Harry Potter hadn't counted on Draco Malfoy.

You'd think that Malfoy would be grateful after Harry vouched for him and his mother, saving them both potential time in Azkaban. However, Malfoy was acting like nothing had changed. He was still acting like the arrogant prat he was before the war. Strutting around from class to class like he owned the place, scowling at first years, and worst of all, sneering at and mocking Harry at every opportunity.

In truth, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy who died, the boy who defeated Voldemort, was scared. Scared of what Malfoy might do, scared of what he might do in retaliation. He still felt guilty about using the Sectumsempra curse on Malfoy back in sixth year. True, he didn't know what the spell would do at the time, but the consequences were still the same. He had no desire to spar with Malfoy again, but he was afraid his own short temper would take him back to that familiar place anyway. It always did.

Whenever Malfoy sneered at him, he would look away, knuckles clenched. Whenever Malfoy insulted him, he grit his teeth and bit back a retort. However with each sneer and insult, it became harder and harder to ignore and he knew he was going to snap eventually. Although, he didn't expect it to be in their second week back.

Harry was making his way into the Great Hall for breakfast chatting with Ron and not looking where he was going when he ran into something solid. He jumped back in surprise and looked up to find Malfoy's sneering face.

"Potter," snarled Malfoy. "Watch where you're going."

Harry grimaced but held his tongue. He would not react, he would not react, he would not react...

"Cat got your tongue, Potter? I guess the war made you lose your spine." Malfoy laughed mockingly and continued strutting out of the hall.

Harry's face went red and he clenched his fists. He told himself to breathe and walk to the Gryffindor table, breathe and walk to the Gryffindor table, breathe and...

"Harry, no!" called out Ron as Harry turned and followed Malfoy out into the Entrance Hall.

"What is your problem, Malfoy?" He yelled at the other boy's back.

Malfoy turned to face Harry, smirking. "I thought that was obvious."

Harry frowned, confused. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and leant up against the wall. "You, Potter."

"Me?"

"You're clearly waiting for me to bow down and kiss your feet so-"

"Malfoy, what are you talking about?" he asked again, even more confused.

Malfoy's face scrunched up cruelly and he took a step towards Harry. "I didn't ask for you to vouch for me, Potter and I'm certainly not going to thank you. If you think this means you hold something over-"

Harry widened his eyes in surprise, most of his anger fading. "Malfoy, I don't...I didn't expect...that's not why I did it."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Don't play stupid with me, Potter. I'm not in the mood for your hero games."

Harry sighed. "Whatever, Malfoy. Think what you want. I don't want anything from you."

Malfoy laughed cruelly. "You play the act so well, Potter," he said, "the selfless hero who does everything for the greater good and nothing else. You must have a reason." His voice grew quiet and shaky. "Why did you save me, from the fire, and then from Azkaban? Why?"

Harry head the vulnerability in Malfoy's voice and he had a strange urge to comfort the boy. Comfort Malfoy? He must be losing it. He shrugged instead. "I'm the hero, Malfoy, it's what I do," he said sarcastically before turning away and walking back into the Great Hall.

He could feel Malfoy staring into his back and tried to shake it off. He didn't know what he was supposed to say. He saved Malfoy because he didn't think he deserved to die, didn't think it was right for him to go to Azkaban. Because he understood what it was like to have a terrible childhood. Because he felt sorry for the boy. He couldn't imagine Malfoy would be pleased to hear Harry pitied him. That would definitely result in a violent hex flying Harry's way.

Harry looked over his shoulder expecting to see Malfoy sneering at him but the other boy had disappeared. He sat down for breakfast and tried to concentrate on the food in front of him but all he could think about was Malfoy's shaking voice. He was no longer hungry.

Throughout the rest of the day, Harry hardly paid attention to his classes. He was going over Malfoy's actions over the last week and it was all starting to make sense. Malfoy was acting out and treating Harry with hostility because he thought he owed Harry his life. He thought he was in Harry's debt and it must have frightened him. Malfoy would be the type to see vulnerability as a weakness. Harry didn't know why, maybe it was because he was playing the hero as Malfoy might say, but he wanted to help Malfoy, make him feel better. Harry sighed. He wasn't sure how he would manage it, all he knew is that it would be hard work.

That afternoon, Harry had the perfect opportunity. During their afternoon double of Potions, Harry noticed Malfoy was sitting alone at his desk. Many Slytherins hadn't returned for the eighth year so Malfoy was often alone these days. Harry was only just starting to realise this. Maybe all he needed was a friend.

Without thinking too much on it as he suspected he would chicken out, Harry bundled up his books, moved over to Malfoy's side and quickly took a seat.

Malfoy looked up in surprise, but quickly replaced his open mouth with a scowl. "What are you doing, Potter?"

"Sitting next to you," Harry said trying to sound casual, but already regretting his decision.

"Well, don't."

"I already did," replied Harry cheekily.

"This is my table" said Malfoy slowly.

"Yes..." said Harry drawing out the word slowly to mimic Malfoy's pace.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Do you have a death wish, Potter, or are you just thick?"

"I want to sit with you, Malfoy. Can't you just accept that?"

Malfoy raised his eyebrows and smirked. "You want to sit with me? Have you got a crush on me or something, Potter?"

Harry felt his face growing red involuntarily. Why did Malfoy have to be such a jerk? He was trying to be nice.

"Malfoy" he said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, Potter?" Malfoy replied mockingly.

"I'm trying to be nice here," Harry said trying to remain calm but his fists were clenched under the desk.

Malfoy scowled again. "I didn't ask you to be nice, Potter. I don't need your niceness."

Harry was tempted to jinx him. Why was he being so difficult? "I think you do, Malfoy, considering I'm the only friend you've got right now."

Malfoy screwed up his face in disgust. "We're not friends, Potter. Get that through your thick skull."

Harry took a deep breath. He's just being hostile because he's scared and lonely, he thought to himself. Don't get mad, don't get mad. Stay calm. "Why not?" Harry asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Why not?" repeated Malfoy.

"Yes, why are we not friends?"

Malfoy's face softened for a moment in surprise, but he quickly righted himself and sneered at Harry. "Maybe because I'm a Death Eater and you're the boy who lived," he suggested dryly, "Or is that not a good enough reason for you?"

Harry frowned. "You're not a Death Eater anymore. Voldemort's dead."

Malfoy laughed humorlessly and gestured to his left forearm. "Oh and I suppose I can just pop down to the local muggle tattoo shop and get this removed?" he said sarcastically.

Malfoy had long sleeves on but Harry could see the faint black lines of the Dark Mark beneath the white fabric. Harry looked back up at Malfoy's face. "That doesn't have to define you, Malfoy," he said softly.

"Saint Potter," Malfoy said angrily, "I don't need your therapy session. Why can't you just leave me alone?" With that, he hastily picked up all his books and walked out of class, ignoring Professor Slughorn's cries for him to sit back in his seat.

Frowning, Harry sat for a moment, before following Malfoy out of the classroom, not bothering to even pick up his belongings.

"What are you doing, my boy?" called out Slughorn after him but he ignored him, just as Malfoy had done.

"Malfoy, wait!" Harry called out as he ran to catch up to the other boy who had already reached the end of the corridor with his long strides.

Malfoy stopped and pivoted on the spot to face Harry. "What now, Potter?" he asked. "Do you want to go have tea and talk about our feelings?"

"I'm actually more of a coffee person actually," replied Harry sarcastically before he could stop himself.

Malfoy rolled his eyes at that and turned around to continue walking down the corridor. Harry quickly followed and walked beside Malfoy, trying to match the pace, although he had to take three steps for every two steps the other boy took.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked curiously, as they headed upstairs. He had assumed Malfoy would be heading down to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.

"You mean where am I going, and where are you following me to? There's no we, Potter."

"Right of course," said Harry in a mock serious tone, "where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm just waiting for you to get bored so I can be alone," Malfoy replied in a tired voice.

Frowning again, Harry asked, "Why do you want to be alone so much these days?"

"So that people can't ask me annoying questions," Malfoy said smirking.

Harry laughed which made Malfoy scowl, he hadn't meant to be funny.

"You're still following me, Potter," Malfoy said warningly.

Harry shrugged in response and continued walking beside Malfoy.

"Alright, I've had enough." Malfoy stopped and pulled his wand out. "Leave me alone, now, or I'll hex you."

Staring down the tip of Malfoy's wand, Harry's heart quickened, he didn't much fancy getting stunned, or worse hit with a stinging hex. "Okay." He sighed and went to turn away. Malfoy's voice stopped him.

"That's it?" Malfoy called out.

Harry turned back to face Malfoy. "What?"

"You're not going to take out your wand?"

"Why would I do that?" Harry asked.

Malfoy growled in frustration. "Because, that's what we do, Potter. I pull out my wand, you pull out yours. You hex me, I hex you. I insult you, you insult me."

Harry shook his head. He would have laughed if he didn't feel so sorry for the other boy. "Malfoy," he said seriously. "The war's over. I've had enough of fighting. Besides, we're not kids anymore. We don't have to play these stupid games."

Malfoy's face crumpled in what appeared to be disappointment. His body visibly slumped. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Walking back towards Malfoy, slowly, Harry replied gently, "You could start by being my friend."

Harry could see Malfoy was fighting with himself whether to fire back with a cruel retort or accept the offer. Sadly, Malfoy just wasn't ready yet. His sneer returned.

"Why are you so interested in being my friend, Potter? Have you gotten bored of the Weasel already?"

Harry sighed in frustration. He knew this was going to be difficult but was it really worth it when Malfoy was such a pain in the arse? "Malfoy, I broke up with Ginny because I'm gay, okay. So thanks very much for your compassion" he said bitterly.

"Oh I'm so sorry Potter, I didn't'-" Malfoy stopped himself when he realised what he was saying instinctively. He quickly moved to the offensive to cover up his slip. "Does the Daily Prophet know yet that the boy who lived is bent?" he asked smirking.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to find some form of inner peace that would stop him from killing Malfoy with his bare hands. "No, but look at this way. You were worried I held something over you by saving you prison time. Now you also hold this secret over me. We're even," Harry said thinking on his feet and somehow maintaining calm.

Harry could have sworn he saw a genuine smile cross Malfoy's face just for a moment before his smirk returned. "So who's the unlucky guy?"

Harry flushed red. Why was he having this conversation with Malfoy of all people? "There's no guy," he said embarrassed.

Malfoy frowned. "I thought you said you broke it off with the Weasel because you realised you were gay. There must be a guy. How do you know you're gay if you weren't thinking about a guy?"

"Stop calling Ginny that. And there isn't a guy, okay. It was just guys in general that made me…Why are we even having this conversation?" Harry suddenly stopped himself embarrassed. He did not want to discuss this with anybody, let alone his ex-arch-enemy.

Malfoy laughed at Harry's discomfort and pushed again. "Well, who is it that you think about when you wank?" Malfoy looked pleased when Harry flushed further.

"I don't think about any…just the sensation is..." Harry trailed off as Malfoy snorted at him. Malfoy might have thought it was silly, but Harry hadn't never pictured anyone while touching himself. It has always just been the idea of someone or the actual sensation itself he had concentrated on. He never considered fantasizing about a particular person.

His face as red as a tomato, Harry turned around and walked away, extracting himself from the conversation before Malfoy could humiliate him further.

As he hurried away to the Gryffindor common room, not fancying the questions if he returned to Potions class now, Harry tried to remember how the day's events had turned into fodder for Malfoy to mock him even more. He went out of his way to be nice to the lonely jerk, and all he got from it was a red face and likely a detention for skipping class. What was even the point?


The following morning, Harry Potter woke up with a sickening feeling in his stomach. At first he couldn't place why, he only knew that something was terribly terribly wrong. When the memories of the previous night hit him, he cringed and reclosed his eyes, trying to block it out, but it was too late.

It didn't mean anything he told himself pathetically. It was only because you had that conversation with Malfoy so it was on your mind and he was the one who…so naturally he'd be the face…oh Merlin. Harry Potter was seriously in trouble. Because last night, for the first time ever, he had thought about someone else while he was wanking, and that person was none other than Draco Malfoy.

He really hoped it was just a one off thing. Considering his conversation the previous day with Malfoy, he tried to tell himself, it made sense that his brain made the subconscious link between masturbation and Malfoy, and it meant absolutely nothing on a romantic or sexual level. It was just a matter of basic logic, he told himself, and nothing else.

His self-justifications crumbled down around him as soon as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast and spotted Malfoy at the Slytherin table, where his eyes had unconsciously wandered. Harry's face immediately went bright red and his stomach turned uncomfortably. He averted his gaze and headed towards the Gryffindor table. One foot in front of the other, one foot in front…

Hermione and Ron were waiting for him at the table and both had looks of concern. Last night he had brushed off their questions about Potions, saying he was tired and not feeling well, but now he didn't have any excuse left.

"Harry,' said Hermione as he sat down, "Are you feeling better today?"

Before Harry could respond, Ron jumped in as well.

"What happened with you and Malfoy in Potions?" he asked.

Hermione scowled. "Give him a moment, Ron."

Harry sighed. "It's okay, thanks Hermione. I feel…better. Yesterday, I thought I might be able to get through to Malfoy, get past all this animosity, but it…didn't really work."

Ron laughed. "Mate, I know you defeated Voldemort and all, but getting through to that Ferret is another thing entirely. You're lucky you didn't end up hexing each other."

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, well I'm a bit over dueling to be honest."

"I think that's for the best," said Hermione, smiling kindly at Harry. "Now, just remember that when I tell you we've got a DADA class with Malfoy this morning."

"I know," said Harry sadly. He'd have to face him eventually.

Sitting in Defence Against the Dark Arts sandwiched between Hermione and Ron, Harry couldn't help but stare at the pale blonde hair two rows in front of him. He silently cursed Malfoy. He couldn't focus on the classwork or what the Professor was saying, all his thoughts were occupied with Malfoy.

He wondered how he might be able to get the other boy out of his mind. Maybe he did need to duel with Malfoy. Let out some pent up aggression. No, he thought, violence is never a solution, it would likely just make things worse. Maybe he should keep reaching out, and trying to be friends. Regardless of his awkward train of thoughts last night, it didn't change the fact that Malfoy was clearly lonely and in need of friendship. Why couldn't Harry be that person?

His thoughts started to drift dangerously and he imagined how he might need to comfort Malfoy; hold him in his arms, stroke his hair, kiss his soft lips…the image was so vivid in Harry's mind, it was like a movie was playing in front of him. He desperately tried to shake the thought but it stubbornly persisted, flashing to the front of his mind every time he tried to block it. Suddenly, the real Malfoy turned his head sharply around to stare directly at Harry with wide eyes. The image vanished. Malfoy turned his head back just as quickly, but Harry could have sworn he saw a small smirk on the boy's face.

Harry immediately panicked. Could Draco read his thoughts? Did he know what Harry had been thinking about? That was impossible. No, not impossible, unlikely. Even if Malfoy was a skilled Leglimens, which was unlikely, he would need to be focusing on Harry's mind which was also unlikely.

Harry's worst thoughts were confirmed when a small piece of parchment drifted in front of him. It read:

Must you think so loudly?

It wasn't signed but Harry knew exactly who it was from, and he felt like he might be sick. Harry crumpled the note up quickly, glad his best friends had not seen it. He made a show of averting his eyes from Malfoy the rest of the lesson, although he noted in his peripheral vision that the other boy didn't look back again.

At the end of the class, Harry bolted from his seat, not wanting to face Malfoy, and headed quickly down the corridor to his next class. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that he hadn't yet memorized his class timetable yet, and without Hermione to guide him, he had no idea where he was supposed to be going. He paused in the corridor and swore, before turning around and heading back in the direction of class, hoping to run into Hermione and not a certain blonde Slytherin.

Although of course, knowing Harry's luck, it was the latter. As he approached the classroom, he scanned the crowds of students walking by for the bushy brown hair of Hermione, or the bright red locks of Ron but they were nowhere to be seen. He frowned, not sure what to do next. He supposed he could go all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room and get his own timetable, but that would take ages. He sighed.

While he decided what to do next, his eyes were drawn to movement beside him and he watched as Malfoy exited the classroom. Why was he still hanging around? Why couldn't he have already left like the rest of the class?

Harry froze as their eyes locked, and once again, he found his face turning an embarrassing shade of red. Draco smirked. "Did you enjoy class, Potter? You seemed…distracted," he said mockingly.

Harry wanted the ground to swallow him up and never spit him out. Although he had faced many dangers throughout his life, this had to be the absolute worst thing so far, he thought. There could not be anything worse than this. He turned around and headed back down the corridor he came from no longer caring about the next class. Going back to his dorm sounded like a great idea right now. He'd stay up there for the rest of the day, for the rest of the year even. He'd only leave to hop back on the Hogwarts Express and leave this place, and never see Malfoy's smirking face again. Yes, that sounded perfect.

Except for the fact that Malfoy was following him and calling his name. Damn.

"Potter!" Malfoy called annoyed before easily falling into step beside him.

Harry looked at Malfoy beside him and widened his eyes terrified. "Why are you following me?' he asked.

Malfoy laughed. "It seems to be our new thing. You follow me, I follow you."

Harry grimaced. "I'm not in the mood."

"Oh right, I saw what you were in the mood for during class," said Malfoy smirking.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, trying to will the never ending embarrassment away but of course it did not work. "How did you even know-"

"That you were fantasising about me?" Malfoy finished for him. "I've been practicing leglimency since sixth year, although usually I need to actually cast the spell to have any effect. In class though" – he paused to laugh – "your thoughts were so loud they hit my head like a train. It was…surprising."

"They weren't loud" said Harry flushing.

"Trust me, they were loud. I see now why you didn't want to tell me about that guy you were thinking about yesterday," he said arrogantly.

"I wasn't thinking about you" responded Harry defensively.

"Potter, you're a good liar, but I did just see your thoughts in class so please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot."

"No…before that…I never…not before yesterday…that was new…" Harry stammered embarrassed. He picked up his pace. The sooner he got to the Gryffindor common room, the sooner this humiliating conversation would be over.

"So today was the first time you thought about me? Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry quickly looked down at his feet as his blush darkened. Before he could lie, Malfoy was smirking again.

"Ahhh, so not the first time…but not before yesterday…Potter, you didn't happen to be thinking about me last night in bed, did you?" Malfoy asking knowingly, the smirk plastered over his face oozing with arrogance.

Harry's eyes widened. "How did you know? Are you reading my thoughts again?" he asked panicked.

Malfoy laughed. "I didn't know but thanks for confirming."

Harry opened his mouth in horror as he realised what he'd done. He swore out loud.

"Maybe if you ask nicely," responded Malfoy teasingly, in response to Harry's particular curse word.

If this kept up, the wind would change and Harry would be left with permanently red cheeks.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry found the courage to ask.

"What?" asked Malfoy.

"Torturing me. Please stop."

Malfoy frowned. "But that's how it works, remember Potter? I tease you, you tease me…"

"I'm not teasing you Malfoy. I'm not insulting you. I'm not hexing you."

"Then tease me."

"What?" Harry asked confused.

"Tease me, Potter. Insult me. Hex Me. Whatever you want."

Harry looked at Malfoy strangely. "That's just it. I don't want to, Malfoy. I like you."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "I already know that" he said suggestively.

"No, no," Harry quickly tried to explain, "I didn't mean like that although obviously I…no, I mean as a person, as a friend. I like you."

Malfoy's face softened in surprise and something seemed to come over him, some realization or some epiphany, Harry wasn't sure. All he knew was that suddenly Malfoy was smiling in a way Harry had never seen before.

Just as suddenly, Harry found himself no longer walking and instead being pushed up against a wall by Malfoy, their bodies crushed up against each other, their faces inches away.

"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"Potter," Malfoy said, the feel of his breath on Harry's face making his lips tingle.

The feeling didn't last long though because it was soon replaced with an intense warmth as Malfoy's lips crashed over his. Harry felt his body reacting instinctively as he leaned into the kiss and sighed contentedly in Malfoy's mouth.

Malfoy pulled back, and Harry pouted, sad it was over so soon. Malfoy smiled and whispered, "You say my name, I say your name. I kiss you, You-"