The Mating Habits of the Not-So-Average Gryffindor

By Dramaphile

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 587

Categories: Slash, Ficlet, Humor

Summary: Tensions run high right before the House Quidditch Cup game

A/N: Written after a very… inspiring lecture in my Primate Behavior class… I know I should be working on chapter 5 of bleeding romantics, but this little bunny bit me on Tuesday and I simply had to get it out before I could finish chapter 5 (which should be out in the next few days…)

He was sneering again. Draco Malfoy's glare reached across the Great hall and landed on Harry, threatening to burn that blasted scar right off his forehead. Harry watched him with narrowed eyes, tracing the corrugated line of the Slytherin's upper lip, the furrows pinched between his pale arched eyebrows, the faint pink tinge of his cheeks. Harry set his lips to a tight line and glared black, eyes shining green like acid and avada kedavra, feeling the hot fury course through his veins.

Tomorrow was the House Cup: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, and tensions ran high in the Great Hall, catching the unfortunate Ravenclaw table between hard glares and acid sneers for most of the week. The sharpest points of stress went from seeker to seeker, the tensions hot and cold between them, both set to win, by any means necessary- Harry determined to beatMalfoy one final time, Draco desperately set on finally winning against The Boy Who Lived. One chance left, one last game before they left Hogwarts, probably never to meet again on a quidditch pitch. If looks could kill, neither seeker would make it to their game tomorrow.

"Harry, you need to get laid," Hermione said suddenly. Harry tore his gaze from Malfoy's to laugh at Ron as he sputtered and choked, spraying orange juice on the tablecloth.

"WHAT?" Ron finally managed to choke out as Hermione cast a cleaning charm.

"I said, Harry needs to get laid. This whole quidditch game business is making him all tense. He's going to get too stressed and won't perform well in the game tomorrow."

"He's not stressed," Ron said indignantly, "He's just concentrating his hatred for Malfoy so we can properly obliterate the Slytherins tomorrow. Right, Harry?"

Harry took a bite of porridge and nodded. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I just don't think he should be so pressured. If he got laid, he's be less stressed. Take Bonobos for example-"

"Bone whats?"

"Bo-No-Bos," Hermione said slowly, in the sort of voice one uses when talking to a very dense child. "They're a type of chimpanzee. I'm writing a paper on non-magical animals for Muggle Studies and bonobos are the most stress-free species in the animal kingdom, because they have sex all the time. Mostly, it's to relieve excitement or aggression. So, if they find food, they have sex. If they meet someone new, they have sex. If they get in a fight, they resolve it by having sex. It's quite an effective system."

Ron stared at Hermione with his mouth hanging open, prettycertain he'd never heard Hermione say the word "sex"that many times in a single breath.

Harry had turned back to Malfoy, who was still glaring at him harshly. His blood boiled once more, but not with fury. He stared intensely, green eyes meeting Malfoy's silver, and, very deliberately, winked.

Ron goggled at him.

"Did you just wink at Malfoy?" Hermione buried her head in her hands and sighed.

"Merlin, Harry, I mean some slutty girl, like Lavender, not-"

Harry didn't hear his friends or the noise of indignation from across the table because Malfoy, after mopping up the glass of pumpkin juice he'd spilled in shock, had caught his eyes again and with a slow smile, had winked back.

Fin

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