A week went by, in which nothing odd happened. Harry was beginning to wonder if, after all, it wasn't just one of the students playing tricks on the teachers. But the appearance of the Dementor simply did not add up.

Voldemort was dead and although there were still several ex-Death Eater children at Hogwarts, he doubted they would do something so irrelevantly obnoxious and openly foolish. If they wanted to gain something out of it, this would not be the way.

During the past week, Harry had succeeded at avoiding Malfoy, although they had passed each other in the hallways on several occasions.

Harry had trouble looking Malfoy in the eyes, whenever such an occasion occurred.

Malfoy on the other hand seemed to sense Harry's unease and did not hesitate to make matters worse. Taunting him, by telling the girl students who he was with remarks that made Harry flush in anger.

"Girls, come now, don't you recognise the famous Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived, commonly known as Gryffindor's Golden Boy," he had asked a few Hufflepuff girls one time. "Seriously, look at the man. You should be proud to meet such a legend. Oh, cut it out with the modesty, Potter. The girls would love to meet a sexy legend like you!"

Harry had been devastated to see the girls turn around, beaming at him expectantly. Malfoy did not mean a word he said, but paying Harry a compliment just to give him unwelcome attention while he was working was clearly a small price to pay.

Grudgingly, Harry had consented, hoping things would soon pass. Eventually, after a lot of questions, giggles, handshakes and autographs, Harry had managed to escape. Malfoy succeeded at playing this trick three times, although, Harry noticed with contempt, he did make sure not to involve any Slytherins.

On every occasion, Harry saw Draco sneak off, a huge smirk on his face.

"Gods, he's a plague," Harry grunted, while walking through the halls, scanning the surroundings for anything that seemed out of place.

Apart from that the song would simply not leave him. Not during his dreams and no longer when he was awake either.

Your mouth, so hot. Your web, I'm caught. Your skin, so wet.

I think I need to get laid,Harry thought to himself, somewhat amused.

Distracted, he came to the Staff room, which he intended to pass by without further ado, had it not been for a familiar platinum blonde head in there, which he caught out of the corner of his eye.

For a second, Harry hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted a confrontation with Malfoy, but … For fuck's sake, they weren't children anymore, though Malfoy tried his best to prove otherwise.

So he walked in.

***

Draco cocked his ears at the sound of padding feet, heading for the Staff room. At this time of day, all students had classes. He didn't look up from his book, pretending ignorance as he saw a familiar exploded head walk by.

He never expected to see the figure back-pedal to come to a halt at the door of the Staff room.

Heavens in Hell, Draco thought. Will Harry Potter make the first move?

He still pretended ignorance, when Potter walked inside, though, if the Golden Boy had learned anything throughout the years he ought to know Draco already knew he was there.

"I know you heard me," came Potter's voice. It sounded a bit shaky, like in the good old days.

***

Malfoy looked up at Harry lazily.

"Hello there, Potter. Come for a friendly chat," his voice drawled.

Harry shuddered, remembering that voice …

"I hardly think chatting with you will ever happen on a friendly basis," he said, cutting off his own thoughts.

He really needed to focus now. With Malfoy tangibly present things did not seem as simple as he thought they would be. Or as they ought to be, all things considered.

Malfoy made a repeated tsk-sound at Harry's insult.

"Still as mature as ever, ey Potter?"

"You're a good one to talk, Malfoy," Harry bit. "You're the one playing these tricks on me in the hallway."

Harry watched Malfoy close his book, agonisingly slow, his long slender fingers caressing the velvety cover.

"Honestly, I'd think you'd appreciate that. I never did tell you how grateful I was for your heroic actions five years ago. People forget so easily."

"You've got a point there," Harry said. He sat himself down opposite of Malfoy, far enough for his own good, but not too far to arouse suspicion. "Seems to me you've forgotten who saved your sorry ass in the first place."

Malfoy remained silent, taking in Harry with his steel-grey eyes.

"You despise me, don't you, Potter?"

"If I gave you any thought I probably would."

Harry watched a smirk tug at Malfoy's lips. What was it about this guy? He never seemed to be caught off guard, while he, Harry, always seemed off guard around him. It had been so from the very beginning and Harry hated it. For once in his life, he wished he could be smooth, like…

"Why are you here, Potter," Malfoy's low voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Here as in at Hogwarts, or here as in this room with you?"

That sounded so odd. Malfoy's eyebrows shot up suggestively, but Harry tried to ignore it.

"Both."

"I'd think you'd know the answer to the first one," Harry said, a bit more smugly than he intended to. "As for the second one, I'd like you to cease the disturbance you're causing by drawing attention to me."

Harry thought he was handling this quite well. They hadn't resorted to insults. Yet. Not really. It took him a moment to register the fact that Malfoy had started laughing.

Harry looked back at the blonde. Gods, he was nothing like the squeaky teenager he had last seen, five years ago. His head lolled back a little, as the laughter made his lips show perfectly white teeth. His canines were quite prominent, Harry noticed, oddly enough.

"Quit it, Malfoy. You're as annoying as ever."

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy stopped laughing, only to make eye contact again. A smug smile did not leave his face though.

"Potter, you really are too easy. Did you actually believe I would listen?"

"Considering the fact that it has been five years and you've had the time to grow up? Yes."

Malfoy's eyes flashed at him for a moment, though Harry could not pinpoint whether with anger or amusement.

"Dream on," his low voice drawled again.

Seriously, Harry thought. Shouldn't he save that tone for the bedroom?

And immediately felt his cheeks turn scarlet at the realisation he'd just thought that.

"Look, Potter, let me make this crystal-clear, in case your Gryffindor brain cannot see what is very easily detected. I dislike your presence here, though I know it is for very good reasons. Rest assured that I will make it my goal in life to annoy you whenever and wherever I can as long as you reside here. Apart from that, of course, I willingly present you with my cooperation, should you require it."

Harry stared. It was the only thing he could do. Five years. Five fucking years and Malfoy was still as obnoxious and in-your-face as he had ever been. In fact, he was even worse, because combined with the familiar characteristics, Harry noticed that he meant the last thing he said.

And worst of all was that he probably would need to work together with Malfoy.

Without another word, he got up from his seat, throwing Malfoy a disgusted look and turned around. The blonde's smug expression still visible before him, even when he closed his eyes that night.