Author's Note: Wow I've always wanted to write an Author's Note, I can't believe it, like I'm an author! You're all so great for reading/reviewing/rating and following/favoriting (and dozens of other excellent qualities I'm sure you posses), you all deserve 30 albino squirrels.

Disclaimer (Am I supposed to put this in?): I don't own HP universe.

BTW: I wrote this fic and got super into it and totally forgot the boys were both only 12... so imagine them at whatever age you wish (especially in the third chapter ;) )

Pottervision

I tugged my invisibility cloak closer to my body, dear god this is such a terrible idea! I'm half-expecting to walk in to the Boathouse only to find Crabbe and Goyle picking each other's noses. I make it to the door, this is it. I push the creaky 'vintage' door open slowly only to find he's already here, with that pure golden hair gleaming as always. I pull the cloak off as I step in to the rickety old shack.

"Malfoy" I mutter. Merlin! Even his name is perfect, I can't help but looking down to my toes encased in socks that were indubitably soaked in sweat. Why does he make me so nervous! He's only the prettiest wizard at Hogwarts!

"Potter"

"Malfoy, I don't know if you've heard this but whatever I said in the Dining Hall this-"

"Potter, stop. Sending you that valentine was a mistake, I was just trying to humiliate you."

"You sent me that valentine?"

Malfoyvision

Bloody Hell! Why did I say that? Potter didn't even know it was from me, if it weren't for my big mouth Potter wouldn't even know that I love him.

"What was that Malfoy?" A sly grin is growing on Potter's face

Shit! Did I say that out loud? Great now Potter's got enough material to humiliate me in front of the whole school and probably get me disowned!

"Umm... I didn't mean that I actually said that... I love... I love torturing him and his filthy mugblood friend." I blurt out, my hands start nervously running through my hair. His faced is still stuck in a snickering smirk, oh Merlin why does he have to be so cute? I need to get out of here before my love-struck brain takes over and does something I'll regret, like meeting those deliciously plump lips of his with my own. My face is turning redder than a Honeyduke's blood flavoured lollipop! I repeat, I need to get out of here. "I've actually got to go... do a thing... yes a thing, it's very important. Let's just forget this all ever happened okay? Because I totally don't love-"

And before I knew it, Potter's Lips were on mine.