"Ooh, Potter, watch out! I think McClaggen's out after you!" Crabbe's low voice was full of mirth. Harry's still-aching head wasn't.

"Shove off," he muttered.

It had only been three days since the ill-fated Quidditch match, and Harry was still dealing with the aftereffects. Most of the students unfortunately agreed that McClaggen's tantrum, while terribly out of line, were rather funny in retrospect, which meant that a constant undercurrent of giggles followed Harry throughout the school. As humiliating as the laughter was, worse still was the fact that he couldn't even properly yell at someone without his head pounding.

"What, Bludger got your tongue?" sneered Goyle from his other side. Harry suddenly realized that the corridors were rapidly emptying; it was the break period for sixth year Gryffindors, and he had been on his way to the library to look up the Transfiguration information that he hadn't been able to worm out of Hermione. Ron was still making an effort to get her to speak, so he had neglected to join. He hadn't minded at the time, because he could also use the time to stalk the Room of Requirement, but now he was second guessing his choice.

Harry was alone, in an abandoned corridor, with Crabbe and Goyle. Normally he wouldn't take this as cause for concern, seeing as he could probably take both of them out with the same jinx or curse, but as Charms class had proved the previous afternoon his casting wasn't at all up to its typical par. He was also aware that, no matter how perfect his right hook was, he could never physically take on Crabbe or Goyle one on one, let alone both of them at the same time.

"Don't you two have first years to go bother?" he asked. They stepped in front of him and turned, identical stupid smirks pressed onto their faces.

"We'd rather bother you, Potty," Goyle said. He cracked his knuckles while Crabbe stretched his neck from side to side. "Teach you a little lesson in manners."

Harry nervously swallowed and clutched his wand, knowing that at such close range it was almost useless. If he got off one curse and it actually hit its intended target, the other Slytherin meathead would have it snapped in two before he could say "Tarantallegra". His only option was to run.

"Oy, Crabbe! Goyle, what are you two skulking about here for?" A pale face inserted itself between the two thick sets of shoulders. "Potter?"

"We was just about to give him a lesson," Crabbe laughed. "Wanna join in, Draco?"

"Hardly. Look, you mess up The Chosen One's face any more this week and even Snape won't be able to save you from detention." The bags under Draco's eyes seemed heavier than normal as he spoke, but his voice was still full of sneering indifference. "Speaking of, McGonagall's going to have your heads if you don't do that assignment already. Just write something down, it can't be worse than what you'll come up with on your own."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at Malfoy in shock, but he just stared between the two of them until they sighed and shuffled away. Harry waited until their footsteps had faded away before stepping closer to Draco with a sad smile. "I'm surprised you said anything. You normally just leave them to their devices these days."

"Yeah, well, I knew you weren't feeling so well yet, so…" Draco shrugged. "Anyhow, I have places to be, so I should get going."

"Hang on," Harry said quietly. "We haven't spent time together for months, and now we're alone and you won't even do me the decency of looking me in the eye, let alone…?"

Draco raised his eyes at these words, and Harry was unsurprised to see them conflicted. Draco's eyes were always conflicted when they were together like this, but usually the conflict was overshadowed by lust. It seemed to be the opposite this time around. "I can't do this, I already told you. There's too much else going on."

Harry rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, capturing the pale boy's lips in a searing kiss. His headache seemed to fall away as Draco growled and returned the kiss with equal passion, and suddenly he was pressed against the corridor wall and his skin seemed to be on fire and his tie was loose and hands were running tantalizingly over his chest and through his hair and…

It was over far too soon for Harry's liking. Draco stepped away, breathing hard. The lust which had momentarily taken over his eyes was already gone, replaced by conflict and hatred. "I have to go. Don't bother following me."

Harry's headache returned with a vengeance as Draco stalked away, and he straightened his tie and attempted to flatten his hair.

The library was waiting for him.

A/N: I'm not a fan of Drarry, but people over on DA seemed to like this so I thought I'd bring it over here too. I wrote it as a prize for a fellow Deviant's second-place finish in a contest. Don't expect to see more Draco/Harry fics from me, because like I said I'm decidedly NOT a fan of the pairing. I just hope that those of you who are fans of the couple find some enjoyment in this, because this one's for ya'll.