"Did you read it?"

...

"Can't say I'm suprised..."

...

"I can't believe it!"

...

"Never been one with the ladies has he?"

Harry walked along the corridor, trying his hardest to avoid the shameless staring directed at him as he made his way to the Gryffindor common room. His eyes were drawn to the embarassing number of 'The Daily Prophet' that littered his path, left abandoned on benches, held in people's grasps and thrown to the stone floor; pages disturbed by the students' feet which trembled in their wake. Harry grimaced as his face stared blankly up at him from every page as he hurried past, adorned with that nauseating title.

Harry forced himself to take deep breaths as the urge to break into a run became almost too much to resist. 'Dont let them know it gets to you, Harry, they'll love it.' Hermione's words of caution echoed in his thoughts as he fixed his concentration on his scuffed trainers with a determined expression.

Why couldn't his "best friends" be with him now? To protect him from people's accusing glances and smirks as he passed.

At least the crowds were considerably smaller than they should have been. Mercifully, it was a Hogsmeade weekend, and the majority of Hogwarts' population was currently waiting in the Great Hall to be escorted into the village. Harry - for obvious reasons - wouldn't be accompanying them, but instead hiding in his dormitory; hopefully, for the rest of the academic year. He had sent Ron and Hermione into Hogsmeade without him, ignoring their half-hearted protests, saying he "wanted some time alone" - to sulk.

His stomach dropped to his knees as a seriously unwelcome voice drawled into his right ear.

"In a hurry, Potter?"

Harry snapped his head towards the sound, eyes fixed with his most vicious glare as he stopped in his tracks. Draco Malfoy was slouched against the wall, arms crossed, left hand clutching a terribly familiar newspaper, a stupidly satisfied smirk plastered across his face and eyes twinkling dangerously.

Harry slowly reached inside his robes to clutch the handle of his wand.

"Not now, Malfoy." He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh, but I think now is the perfect time." Draco pushed off from the wall and snapped open the newspaper. "You know what, Potter? I can't honestly say I'm suprised." That damn smirk.

Harry, now positively seething, turned and stalked off down the corridor.

"Wait!" He heard Malfoy shout, "I want to read you my favourite bit!"

That was it.

"Ouch! Fuck, Potter!" Draco screeched as Harry's stinging hex hit the side of his neck. Harry stood, wand pointed directly at Malfoy, breathing heavily, nostrils flaring.

"I said 'leave it', Malfoy." He spat, green eyes flashing with fury.

"Why so tense, Potter?" Malfoy drew out his own wand, grey eyes threateningly flat; twinkle well and truly gone. "Does confrontation turn you on?"

Harry fired another hex at Malfoy, who blocked it easily, firing a curse at Harry's chest. Harry dodged it and lunged at Draco, his fist connecting with his smug face with a satisfying crunch. Growling furiously and tackling Harry's waist, Draco pulled them both to the corridor floor, where they rolled; firing punches, hexes and kicks at each other furiously, shouting and swearing, urged on by the chanting crowd that was quickly growing around them, eyes feasting joyously on the vicious fight.

"Boys! Boys, stop this at once!" McGonagall's shrill voice voice cut through the chants and the crowd rapidly parted, scurrying off in all directions as the Professor hurried towards the screaming boys, forcing them apart with a flick of her wand. The boys quickly lunged for each other once again but were swiftly prevented as Professor Flitwick - summoned from his office by the commotion - cast a Shield Charm, effectively halting Malfoy's fist which was swinging sharply towards Harry's face.

"Boys! What on earth is going on here!"

The Slytherin and Gryffindor glared furiously at each other through the shield, panting heavily, before ranting hysterically at the Deputy Headmistress.

"He just attacked me-!"

"He provoked me-!"

"He started it-!"

"He asked for it-!"

"I was just minding my own business-!"

"I was simply trying to start a conversation-!" Malfoy cried indignantly, and McGonagall raised her eyebrows disbelievingly at the statement.

She glared at the two boys; taking in the Slytherin's bleeding nose, which he was dabbing at hastily with the sleeve of his shirt and Harry's swollen lip which was trickling blood steadily down his chin. With an exasperated sigh, she directed her wand at the boys injuries which, in turn, rapidly began to heal over.

"My office. Now, both of you. Wait for me there; anything else from either of you, and I promise you will regret it. Go."

Harry huffed in irritation and turned, walking curtly to his Head of House's office. He reached the door and slammed it open, sitting furiously in the closest chair, in a desperate attempt to push down his anger as it tinged his vision red.

He was vaguely aware of Malfoy's sudden presence as he sat rigidly, eyes closed, concentrating on breathing properly.

"Potter?"

He hissed air in through his teeth as his anger responded fiercely to the sound of that git's voice.

"Potter - are you having a panic attack or something?"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Malfoy." Harry muttered, refusing to break his concentration.

He heard Malfoy collapse against his chair, sighing deeply. There was frosty silence for a few minutes before both boys heard the sound of approaching footsteps and sat straight in their chairs, looking at the doorway. McGonagall appeared outside the doorframe and walked briskly into her office, beckoning to the two boys with a jerk of her head.

"Come."

oOo

Harry and Draco stood and followed after her. Harry walked, hands shoved deep into his pockets, moodily contemplating his punishment and the deteriorating standard of his day. Malfoy walked confidently, arms swinging by his side, head held high, while he joyfully thought of his effect on the other boy; he found his actions perfectly justified - the article was hilarious, Potter simply hadn't accepted that yet.

They came to a halt outside a classroom at the far end of the fifth floor charms corridor. McGonagall tapped the door with her wand and the lock ground open rustily before the door swung open, stopping narrowly before is clashed with the wall behind.

Harry walked in first, looking around the room that was bathed in strong sunlight that was sweeping in through the large windows covering the far wall. The wall behind the door held a long row of bookcases which housed many old, large and dusty volumes that Hermione would have fainted at the sight of. The room was littered with heavy oak desks and chairs, and all were covered with a thin layer of dust.

"The other classrooms are being used for private tutoring today," McGonagall strode into the room past Harry and flicked her wand towards the desks. With a skin-crawling screech, the desks turned to face the wall to Harry's right in uniform lines. The thin layer of dust vanished from the polished wood and on two of the desks - each on an opposite sides of the large room - quills, ink and parchment appeared.

"You will do Charms revision," Minerva continued. "Setting lines is a waste of time with your NEWTs approaching. You can put your spare time to much better use. You may use any of the materials available" She pointed out, gesturing to the expanse of books "but I believe you will find the middle section most useful to you. You will remain here until the end of the day-"

Both boys groaned in unison.

"-and I wish you to use the time to your full advantage. You may believe the punishment is 'unfair'. But you're little feud is ridiculous at you're grown age, boys, and past punishment has been seemingly fruitless. I believe it is time we all grew up, don't you?"

She fixed the two boys with her stern gaze - Malfoy; who avoided her gaze with a nonchalant air, and Potter; who had the dignity to look ashamed, and looked apologetically at his Professor.

"Very well, I shall leave you to it, gentlemen. Needless to say, I expect no fighting whatsoever. I will be locking the door behind me, should either of you decide it wise to try and avoid your punishment." She addressed both of them, but looked pointedly at Malfoy, sweeping from the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Harry and Draco continued to watch the door with similar expressions until they both heard the grinding of the lock and the sound of fading footsteps.

oOo

Draco was the first to break the silence with an irritated sigh as he turned and headed towards the desk nearest the far wall.

"I claim this desk." He said, pulling out the chair and inspecting the quill conjured for him by McGonagall.

"Fine." Harry muttered, finally moving from his spot by the door to the desk at the back of the room, nearest to the book shelves. Draco watched the black-haired boy as he dropped dejectedly into his chair and buried his head into his arms on the desk.

Assuming from this that neither would be doing any work, Draco moved over to the vast windows and slumped on to the stone bench there, looking out over the grounds. His heart slowly dropped into his stomach as he longingly watched the crowds of first and second years gathered around the glittering lake - lounging on the grass in their groups; laughing, talking, reading, skipping stones on the rippling water - and he realised he was stuck in this dusty classroom for the rest of the day with a hormonal enemy.

Casting a glance at the clock, Draco groaned again, collapsing to lie on the cool stone. 11am. 5 hours stuck in an inpenetrable state of boredom.

Draco stretched out on the bench and let his thoughts start to drift over him. Infuriatingly; the first thing that jumped to mind was the sulking Gryffindor he currently found himself imprisoned with.

He had eaten breakfast earlier than normal that morning with his friends that were heading off to Hogsmeade for that day. Well, he said eaten, but he had just had his standard very strong coffee and read the 'The Daily Prophet'; which was not by any means standard.

Draco watched, sipping his coffee as Pansy took her copy of 'The Daily Prophet' from the delivery owl's leg, slipping a coin into the small brown leather pouch. He leaned forwards for the coffee pot and refilled his mug as she unrolled the package.

Draco never read The Prophet; he detested the sickly gossip and lies that it spread through their stupid school. That was, of course, until he had spotted a strongly familiar face and a jaw-dropping headline that had him snatching Pansy's copy out of her startled grasp and holding it high out of her reach while flicking frantically for page 3. When he found it, he spread it out on the table in front of both of them with fumbling fingers as they began to read.

He felt his eyes getting wider with every setence he read, his breathing slowly becoming shallower and slightly hysterical and only became aware his mouth was gaping open when he had finished reading. He looked at Pansy, who was still scanning the article, her wide grin threatening to split her face in half as it stretched from ear to ear. She reached the end of the article and looked at Draco, her grin windening when she saw the expression on his face.

"Well, there you go then." She winked at him. "Are you happy now, Draco?"

'The Boy Who Came Out'

Draco sighed and tilted his head to look at Potter, who hadn't moved from his previous position and was obviously deeply in thought. He allowed his eyes to roam over the Gryffindor's form; his infuriatingly messy black hair, which Draco had found himself on more that one occasion desperate to reach out and bully into submission.

Draco's eyes lingered on Potter's back, shoulder blades slightly protruding against his cotton shirt from his slim body. Potter was quite slim, more lanky than slim, Draco found himself pondering. Not annoyingly so...but just right.

The Gryffindor was also wearing faded blue jeans, which clung wonderfully to his long legs. Draco loved Potter in denim. He always had. His eyes wandered over Potter's jean-clad legs, admiring the curve of his arse appreciatively. He felt a familar rush of want as his eyes strayed to the bulge of Harry's groin. His mind suddenly supplied him with images of topless Harry, wearing nothing but jeans - Fingers looping into the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down tantalisingly slowly...fuck - now he was getting hard.

He had driven Pansy mad on several occasions with his detailed accounts of just why Potter's legs looked so fantastic in denim, whether she had asked or not. All those reasons came flooding back as his eyes traced over Harry's body and Draco tried in vain to stop the uncomfortable tightening of his trousers.

...Maybe it was because the blue went so amazingly well with Potter's electric emerald eyes...

Shockingly green eyes which glittered encantingly in the sunlight and were so intense that Draco felt more blood rush to his groin in anticipation as his heart hammered uncomfortably in his chest.

With an electric jolt of sheer panic, Draco realised Harry's eyes were most definitely open and looking right at him.

Blood pumped furiously in his ears and beads of sweat started to form on the back of his neck, Draco struggled furiously to stop a blush creeping onto his face; he would die of mortification if he started blushing in front of Potter. He swallowed and answered Harry's furrowed brow with a smirk and a snide-

"What're you moping about over there, Potter?" His voice came out treacherously thick and husky and he swallowed furiously. Trying to be as subtle as possible, he bunched his robes around his groin, trying desperately to disguise his arousal.

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" Potter's response was muffled by his arm which his head was lying on. He sounded exhausted.

There was a moments silence as Draco comtemplated the boy in front of him. He looked completely defeated, and Draco couldn't blame him. He'd had a rough morning after all; Outed by a newspaper.

"Is it true?" He found himself saying before he could think about what he was asking.

Harry's brow furrowed even further and Draco saw familiar anger creep into his expression and his eyes became guarded.

"That's none of your business."

"Actually, Potter, I think the Prophet has made it everybody's business."

Harry sighed, his expression becoming vulnerable again. He turned his head so he was facing the other way. Draco's heart began to sink back into his stomach.

"I don't want to talk about it."

It was so quiet, Draco barely heard it; but he knew it had been said.

The sun was unbearably hot on Draco's back as he lay draped over the stone bench, face pressed against the soothing cold stone. His right arm was raised above his head, resting on the bench above him and his left hand grazed the dusty floor as his arm hung down.

His eyes were closed against the harsh brightness of the classroom and he felt his concentration slowly start to edge away as his consciousness was lulled by the dazing heat and the distant sounds of laughter, water spalshing and the wind ghosting through the Forbidden Forest.

oOo

Harry stared furiously at the wall ahead of him. Having drifted through numerous states of anger, sadness and self-pity over the past hour, he was now feeling emotionally exhausted. He sighed deeply, feeling all his dizzying thoughts leave him in one great rush. He was seriously deflated.

He looked over at Malfoy, who was lying on the stone bench just beneath the vast window which stretched over the entire wall; framing the expansive grounds which positively beamed in the blistering sun. Draco was spread out across the stone, limbs spread away from his body comically. His face was pressed against the stone and his mouth was hanging open slightly; the Slytherin was apparently asleep - as his breathing was deep and even.

Harry knew Malfoy would hate it if he knew Harry was watching him right then and he grinned at the thought.

Harry sighed again and looked around him.

He was pissed off with sulking; he needed to do something to occupy him so he wouldn't keep thinking about that damn article.

He contemplated the books lining the shelves next to him. The thought of the approaching NEWT exams didn't do much to improve his mood, but - as Hermione constantly reminded him - avoiding revision was never going to help his case.

Harry pushed himself up from his chair, which squeaked harshly against the floor as it dragged against the stone floor.

A startled whimper came Draco's direction. Harry turned, an apology on his lips, to see Draco's head had snapped up from the stone bench, looking around the room wildly, completely dazed.

"Morning, Malfoy." Harry smirked and delighted in seeing a blush sweep across Draco's cheeks as he pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bench.

He looked away pointedly from Harry's gaze, rubbing his hands over his face rougly and tugging his fingers through his hair.

"I think I just waxed my cheek on that stone - ouch." He mumbled, rubbing his cheek moodily.

"What?"

"Nothing, Potter." He grumbled, blushing again, lying back down onto the bench.

Harry, rolling his eyes, moved over to the shelves and started perusing the books in the middle section - which McGonagall had told them would be useful - when he felt eyes on the back of his head.

"Are you going to tell me if its true, yet?"

Harry felt his defence jump up at once. Why couldn't the damn Slytherin just quit instead of digging for information to spread around his stupid cronies and undoubtedly the entirety of Hogwarts.

"Just leave it, Malfoy." He said in a voice he had hoped would sound dangerous and threatening, but to his complete horror - sounded like he was pleading. "Why do you even want to know? It doesn't affect you."

"Merlin, Harry, you have no idea." He whispered to the back of Harry's head.

I did just start a new fic, but I wasn't in the mood to write angst, so I thought Id start a fluff as well. Now I can write according to mood. :D

I plan on this being a multi-chapter fic, but let me know what you think so far!

Pleeease review, it really means a lot to me.

Thanks for reading!