Draco provides a valid reason. Ignores DH.

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Draco was sure the castle hallways hadn't seen this much activity since …well, probably since the last time Harry Potter went off on some Dangerous Mission to Stop the Dark Lord. A terrified looking group of Hufflepuffs were scrambling for the safety of their common room, and antique suits of armor clanked noisily in the opposite direction, cheered on by the hundreds of portraits running the length of the hall, followed by, of all people, Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, robes flying behind them as they hurtled down the hallway.

Feeling only slightly overwhelmed, Draco took a step forward – only to be yanked back by the cowl of his robe, slammed hard into the stone wall behind him.

"This is it, Malfoy."

Draco shivered at the soft brush of lips against his ear, eyes staring straight into empty air even as a hard body pressed against him, pinning him to the wall

"Your only chance to change your mind."

Draco licked his lips, feeling the invisible fingers around his wrist tightening at the motion. Smirking, he dragged the tip of his tongue across his chapped lips a second time, tilting his chin down.

The vice-like grip vanished and Draco lunged, ripping the invisibility cloak off his rival's face, flipping the other boy around. The second the brunet hit the wall Draco followed, hands fisting into thick black hair, hips slamming against still-invisible hips, and lips finally, gloriously, meeting soft, parted lips.

The chaos of the surrounding hallway didn't vanish in a puff of smoke; Draco did not find himself alone in a crowded hall as he melted into a wonderful, firework-inducing, heart-melting kiss. Instead, he felt the feet on the floor pounding in time with his heartbeat, the battle cries of the portraits making his blood race, the sweet tongue pushing past his lips drawing his muddled, confused thoughts into sharp clarity.

He stepped back slowly, watching as his greatest rival slowly opened those brilliant green eyes of his.

"Well," Draco said softly, "I suppose you are a better kisser than Voldemort. And that ought to count for something."