The next day, they returned to scowling and taunting.

"Thank goodness," Hermione sighed.

"Thank fuckin' Merlin," Blaise muttered.

Because now, Draco could finally sleep and Harry had stopped moping. Everything was back to normal. Which led to…

"Almost… too normal," Hermione murmured, narrowing her eyes.

"That can't be right," Blaise thought aloud, frowning at his best friend.

Everything became a bit more confusing for Hermione and Blaise when things started… happening.

Like that one time in the dungeons…

Harry was jerked into a hidden recess and assaulted with a wave of lips and tongue. "Mph," he protested as his hair was wrenched back and teeth bit into his lips. He threw his weight forward. Now Draco grunted, even as he refused to let go of Harry's shirt. He was whipped around and slammed against the wall, tongue forced out. Harry cupped Draco's chin in his firm hand, teeth clashing as they went at each other. Draco wrapped his leg around Harry's thigh, making him stumble forward. "We have Potions," Harry panted.

"Hell with that."

"They'll know something's up," Harry interjected, riddling kisses down to Draco's neck that was turning out to be one of Harry's favorite spots. A long, uninterrupted column of unblemished skin that was now Harry's canvas. "You haven't broken up yet," Harry murmured, fluttering lips over the pulse.

"Can't find a reason."

Harry let out a frustrated breath. "I'll give you a reason," he muttered vehemently, biting Draco.

"Ah! What?" Draco gasped, shoving Harry away and clapping his hand to his neck. "What the hell, you psycho?" he exclaimed, checking his fingers to see if he could spot blood.

"Now you have to break up with her," Harry said smugly.

Draco moaned, pounding his head against the stone. "She'll know," he said piteously. "Fuck you…"

"I'm not the one cheating," Harry scowled.

Draco pushed Harry against the wall again and dipped down, marking his neck as well. Harry kicked out in retaliation, catching Draco's shin. Being in such a narrow alcove had its limitations. Both boys were within arms reach of each other. Draco held back his pained howl, elbowing Harry in the ribs instead.

And, as per the natural progression of events, the two were rolling around in the corridor a second later with fists in each other's faces. Which warranted another detention from Professor McGonagall. But Malfoy's line of though was, 'At least Stori won't know where I got that welt from,' since bluing bruises scattered across his body. Harry was more than miffed about that. He didn't want to be that guy. That guy Malfoy cheated on Astoria with. He hated being that guy. Hell, he felt like he was being that guy after Cho kissed him all those years ago.

"You two need to get past this," Professor McGonagall lectured while Potter and Malfoy sat in the detention classroom quietly. "Being the mature adults that you are, it is high time you put aside your differences." She didn't expect a response. Both of them were staring at the parchments studiously, refusing to acknowledge each other. She sighed in despondence. "You may start your essay," she said tiredly, going back to her desk.

Harry and Draco had written this same essay many times. So many times, in fact, that they could write without really thinking about it. The detention room was their second home. Sounds of quill on parchment echoed against the bare walls. Minutes ticked by as fingers cramped, eyes threatened to fall shut, and boredom set in.

Draco was on his second page when he felt a slight pressure at his knee. He looked down to find Potter's knee pressed against his. He shifted away slightly, returning his eyes to the essay that was getting messy by the line. Harry's knee shifted with Draco, keeping contact. Draco held in a harrumph. He physically slid down a few inches, which was as far as he could move before he fell off the bench. Professor McGonagall looked up at the sound to find her students writing furiously. The moment she returned to her reading, Harry slid to the left, meeting Draco.

Draco sat up straighter when Harry's foot tapped his lightly. He kicked Harry without pretense, making sure the Gryffindor got the message. Either Potter was a duffer or he was just looking for trouble, because Draco felt the foot traveling up his trouser leg. Then down. Then up. Then down. Draco switched the grip on his quill so he was holding it very much like a murderer wielding a knife. He moved his hand so Harry could see. The foot stopped moving abruptly. Draco kicked it away, continuing to write. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Potter moving back to his spot. Considerably more relaxed, Draco focused on the essay. He was halfway through it.

Then he felt a poke on his leg. He had to stop himself from whipping around and slamming Potter's head on the table. Quelling the urge, he looked down in time to see Potter walking his two fingers along the bench. Draco had to stop from snorting in amusement. He bit back a smile, trying to ignore the distractions. However, he couldn't help but watch when Potter's fingers walked towards him and poked him again. Then the two fingers marched back towards Potter. Before walking towards Draco and poking him. Then striding back to Potter. Then towards Draco. As though running laps.

Draco's hand squelched Harry's, making it lie flat on the bench. Harry's quill faltered as he trembled from the chuckles threatening to burst out of him. Harry's hand tried to escape Draco's makeshift cage, wiggling as inconspicuously as it could. Draco pressed down stubbornly, keeping Harry's hand under his. Harry stared at the words on his page. Then he coughed loudly and wrenched his hand away, nearly upsetting Draco in the process. Draco righted himself before the Headmistress could notice anything. Harry flexed his hand.

Draco felt the periodical poking start up again. Draco's hand blocked Harry's fingers, gentle but firm. Harry's fingers weren't about to accept defeat. They escaped Draco's hand easily, moving to Draco's wrist and continuing to walk up his forearm. Draco wondered how far Potter would go. Harry's fingers traveled up Draco's elbow towards his shoulder. If Professor McGonagall happened to look up, she would see Harry's fingers trailing up Draco's arm nonchalantly. Draco cringed at the thought but kept still. Harry's fingers moved up to Draco's neck, then his cheek, and finally his lips.

Draco opened his mouth and bit down.

"Ow!" Harry yelped, dragging his fingers away from Draco and clutching it.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, frowning reproachfully.

"Paper cut," Harry lied easily, wiping his hand on his trousers. "Sorry."

Draco smirked. And it wasn't until his third page that Harry's fingers returned. Not just returned. Returned with full force. Draco jerked violently when Harry's hand pressed against his groin. "Fuck," he muttered soundlessly, blood draining from his face. He knocked Harry's hand away. It merely went back to Draco's pants. Draco stabbed it with his quill. The hand stayed put, massaging him now. How the hell was he growing hard? In front of Professor McGonagall? He needed to get out of there. Quick. He stared at his essay. He was nowhere near done. He closed his eyes when Harry's fingers fumbled with his zipper. He contemplated breaking Harry's fingers. He grabbed Harry's hand and twisted it.

Harry flinched, trying to pull his fingers away. Draco held on despite Harry's insistence. Harry felt his knuckles crack painfully. He tightened his grip on Draco's, almost full, erection. Draco let go instantly, biting his tongue to keep from moaning. Harry sighed with relief, shaking his loose fingers. Then he went back to massaging Draco.

Harry hiccupped. And that's all Professor McGonagall heard. What she didn't see was Draco's hand furiously kneading Harry's hard-on.

Harry squirmed in his seat, torn between his hand that was massaging Draco, the essay, and the hand that was massaging him.

Five minutes later, all Professor McGonagall saw was a flurry of robes and parchments. The boys disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye.

"Oh, fuck," Draco moaned, kissing Harry as he closed the door to the closet.

"Didn't think I was going to make it," Harry whimpered, rubbing against Draco. "Don't ever do that in front of her… Never ever in front of her."

"You started it," Draco choked out, throwing his head back when Harry's nimble fingers unzipped him.

"Didn't know you would join in too," Harry stammered out. "I can't see!"

The moment Harry's hand touched Draco's arousal, the latter fell to his knees. Harry followed him down, joined at the lips and chest as he jerked Draco off. "No foreplay?" Draco asked, wrapping his arms around Harry.

"I thought detention was the foreplay," Harry laughed, frantically unzipping himself.

Draco groaned in relief, breathing in the faint whiff of citrus from Harry's cologne. "You smell fruity," Draco noted, snorting.

"Gosh, haven't lost your humor," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. "Shut up and concentrate." Although, Draco wasn't really doing anything. In fact, Harry was doing all the work. But, a thing to note about Harry Potter – he was satisfied when his partner was satisfied. And Draco was very vocal about his satisfaction. It took them less than five minutes to finish up, panting and dripping sweat in the balmy closet they were locked in.

"Wicked fingers," Draco huffed through pursed lips, trying to regain his composure he had lost when he came into Harry's hand with a long and drawn out moan.

"Thanks," Harry sighed, coughing as air caught in his throat.

Draco sat back, leaning against the wall as he zipped himself up. Harry whisked his wand at both of them, cleaning up. They caught their breaths shakily, blinking at each other with foolish smiles on their lips. Draco grabbed Harry by the waist and pulled him closer. Harry fitted between Draco's legs and rested his head against Draco's shoulder, staring at his beloved neck. Draco shivered as Harry's kisses made his stomach clench. "So…" Draco murmured.

"So…"

"How was your day?"

Harry raised his brows slowly. Then he smiled. Then he snickered. Then he laughed rambunctiously. "Perfect," he answered brokenly, placing firm pecks on Draco as an added response.

Draco couldn't help but smile at Harry's happy laughs. "Hmm… That's good…" he whispered, tightening his hold on Harry.

"We're cuddling and talking, Malfoy…"

Now Draco couldn't help laughing with Harry. "Not as bad as I thought it would be," he chuckled.

And after the Quidditch match

Harry was laughing and handing out high-fives willy nilly as his team shuffled out of the change room, tired but triumphant. The players were eager to get to their common room for the celebration party. Harry was the last to leave, checking to make sure the team hadn't made too much of a mess. So…

Well… you know what happened. Do you really want me to describe it?

Oh, what the hell, right?

A forceful hand twirled around Harry. He was bent backwards as an outrageous kiss was planted on his surprised lips. "I let you win," Draco said begrudgingly.

"Sure, you did," Harry laughed, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck. "What're you doing here?"

"I lost," Draco said, pecking Harry's mouth softly.

"You did. Because I won."

"But I lost."

Harry pushed Draco towards the benches, pushing him onto it. "You did, didn't you?" he murmured, biting his lips seductively.

"So…" Draco said, piquing a brow.

Harry straddled Draco with ease, running his hands down Draco's chest. "If you had won?"

"Then this would be a congratulatory deal, wouldn't it?" Draco said with his usual smugness. "You're turning out to be quite the slut, Potter."

Harry pushed Draco onto his back with a force the Slytherin hadn't accounted for. "Fuck you," Harry hissed, murder in his eyes as he pressed down on Draco's ribs.

"I'd rather fuck you," Draco answered, not looking the least bit concerned. Instead of the agonizing punch that he was expecting, he saw an uncharacteristic flush spread over Harry's cheeks. Draco felt the pressure on his lungs falter and the fury in those green eyes shift to uncertainty. Draco's eyes widened in shock and he sat up, nearly upending Harry in his frantic movements. Before Harry could fall, Draco caught him. "You're a damned virgin, Potter!"

"Shut up," Harry muttered, trying to break out of Draco's arms. "Let go!"

"Merlin," Draco breathed, capturing Harry's lips against his. "That's so hot."

"You're not fucking me," Harry maintained, punching Draco's chest to get him to let go.

"And you're not fucking me," Draco retorted, sneaking his cold hand against Harry's back. Harry jerked closer to Draco as a response, trying to get away.

Obviously, ten minutes later…

"How do you manage to exhaust me every single day?" Harry groaned, arching into Draco as their arousals moved against each other.

"Can't talk," Draco said soundlessly, crushing Harry's lips against his as he crashed into a fitful orgasm. It took Harry a minute longer and by the time they were done, they were surrounded by a pile of towels and a sticky mess. Harry started to wipe his hands clean but stopped short of the fluffy white towels.

"Hey, Malfoy," he murmured, sitting up to get rid of the cramp that was threatening his leg.

"What?" Draco answered, eyes closed.

"Dare you to lick this."

Draco's eyes shot open and he froze in revulsion. "Oh God, how sick are you?" he asked, trying not to gag.

"So… does that mean you won't be up for a blow job?"

"I'm about to throw up," Draco groaned, pushing Harry away and staggering to his feet. "Stay the hell away."

Harry smirked, getting up as well. "Come on. How bad could it be, right?" he asked, keeping his arm outstretched. Draco scurried back, realizing with mounting horror that he couldn't run anywhere. He had backed himself into a corner. "Try it."

"I'll hurl all over you, Potter. And I won't think twice," Draco threatened, pressing against the wall and breathing through his mouth as Harry's sticky hand floated inches away from him.

"I can't believe Malfoy wouldn't take a dare," Harry said, stroking Draco's cheek.

Draco shuddered, turning his head away. "Please… Harry…"

Harry paused. He couldn't have heard right. He contemplated Draco for a brief moment. "Double dare, then," he said, tracing his fingers over Draco's lips and kissing him. The salt ran into their mouths.

Draco shoved Harry away and skidded towards the toilets, retching violently.

Harry chewed on his cheek, blinking at the wall where Draco had been. Then he turned around to look at Draco throwing up with the bathroom stall wide open. "Wait… you're that grossed out by cum?" he asked.

"Fuck you," Draco heaved.

"But how are we supposed to have sex?" Harry whined, wiping his hand on his uniform as he trudged towards Draco and knelt down to stroke his back.

"Don't ever do that again," Draco said hoarsely, gagging at the mere thought of it.

"It wasn't all that bad, was it? Kind of like… salt, right?" Harry murmured.

"Oh," Draco groaned, throwing up again.

Harry chuckled, draping an arm around Draco and holding him in place. "Okay, sorry, sorry. I won't do that again," he smiled while wiping away Draco's frustrated tears.

"I hate you so much," Draco sobbed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning into Harry.

"You're damned cute, Malfoy," Harry laughed. "And you didn't even throw up on me."

"I forgot," Draco gasped out.

"I think I'll keep you," Harry decided.

"Then it's only fair you know that I'm planning on killing you slowly and painfully," Draco whispered shakily, brushing his tears against Harry's shoulder.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

In the middle of April…

"We have to break up."

Draco had been thinking about it for days. And he could think of a million reasons for and against his choice. But he knew he wasn't being fair. And he knew he was practically throwing away his future.

Astoria gaped at Draco. "Wh– what?" she stammered, her voice trembling.

Draco swallowed down his nerves. "I'm sorry, Stori. But we… we have to break up," he said again.

"Why?" she asked, eyes wetting.

Draco hated tears. "Don't– don't cry," he stammered, which only caused Astoria to start crying. "It's not anything you did! It's not. You're– you're perfect," he said, hugging her.

"Then what?" she asked quietly. "If I'm perfect, why are you breaking up?" She had thought her future to be set. And now this? No, she wasn't going to go down silently.

"Because I'm not perfect for you," Draco said, trying to make his words as vague and poetic as possible.

"But you are! You're perfect for me, Draco. You're– you're smart and funny and handsome and everything I want. I love you!" she said.

Draco gritted his teeth. Love. She knew when to drag that word in. "I love you too," he murmured. "But you don't– I'm not– I can't, Stori…"

"Tell me," she demanded, pushing Draco away and wiping her tears vehemently. Her tone was stern, no longer the frail and delicate woman Draco had been comforting. "Tell me now."

"Tell you what?" Draco asked, quelled by her silent anger.

"For Merlin's sake, tell me why you're dumping me!" she exclaimed, balling her hands into fists.

"I told you, I'm not right for you," he said.

"Stop with your bullshit and just tell me," she interrupted.

Draco looked stricken. Since when did Astoria swear? "I don't know what else to tell you," he murmured, knowing he was treading in stormy waters.

Her eyes darkened with sudden realization. "You're cheating on me, aren't you?" she snarled.

Draco's heart sank. "What?" he exhaled. "N– n– no!"

"I knew it!" she spat out. "I should have– I– I saw all the signs! Why would you– what did I– I…" she broke off, more tears falling. "What did I do wrong?" she asked pitifully.

Draco wanted to hang himself right then and there. He should have broken up when Potter had told him to. Before they could have gone any further. This was all his fault. His fucking fault. "Nothing. You didn't– I told you it wasn't you! It's– I– it's not you," he said haltingly, reaching out to hug Astoria.

"Don't touch me!" she nearly screamed in fury. "Don't you dare touch me! I want to know who she is. I want to know who she is right now!"

Draco thanked Merlin that the room they were in was silenced. "There's no one else. Please, just– calm down," he said frantically.

She landed a loud slap on Draco's cheek, catching him unawares. He had never seen this side of Astoria before. He staggered back. "You love her?" she hissed. "Did you fuck her?"

"What are you saying? Stop saying that!" Draco gasped, horrified at the language coming out of his refined Astoria. "Don't say things like that!"

"You did, didn't you? It's because I didn't put out, isn't it?" she shouted, shoving Draco back forcefully. "I have standards, Malfoy. You probably nabbed the first sleazy slut who came your way."

"I'm not! I didn't!" Draco argued, tempted to shove Astoria back in response. "Are you hearing yourself?"

"And all this time you've been telling me you love me," she sobbed, "and telling her the same thing?"

Draco grabbed Astoria by the shoulders, shaking her. "Stop! Stop it," he said furiously.

"I said don't touch me," she shrieked, pushing Draco away again. "Don't ever– don't you dare– you are just–" Her wand was out the next instant. "No one cheats on me…"

"What do you want me to say?" Draco asked helplessly.

"Tell me why you're breaki–"

"I already told y–"

"WHAT THE HELL IS HER NA–"

"IT'S NOT LIKE TH–"

"WHEN DID YOU ST–"

"YOU AREN'T LISTE–"

"WHY WOULD YOU LOVE HER INS–"

"I DON'T LOVE HIM!"

Draco and Astoria reeled back, paling.

"No," Draco breathed. "I didn't– no… I–"

"What?" she asked, her wand arm falling to her side. "What?"

"I don't love her," he said breathlessly.

"Him. You said him, Draco…"

Draco shook his head firmly. "No. I didn't. I don't love her. Because there is no her. Okay?" he said, pulling his thoughts together.

"Draco."

Draco tensed at the unusual calmness in Astoria's tone. That couldn't be a good sign. Not after the murderous rampage he had just witnessed. "I told you I–"

"Stop talking for a second," she said, stowing her wand in her robe. Draco looked at her warily as she stared through him. "I want the truth this time, okay?"

"Okay," Draco agreed.

"Are you cheating on me?"

"No."

"The truth."

"No."

"Draco."

"I'm not!"

She eyed him with a hidden expression. "You're not cheating on me…"

"No," Draco said firmly.

In three strides she had closed the gap between them. She rose up on her toes and kissed him chastely. Draco could think of nothing but ways to get out of the mess he had created. She sighed as she broke the lip lock, stepping back. "I… I know you love me," she said slowly.

"Right. I do. I love you," Draco said, nodding with enthusiasm.

"But that doesn't mean you aren't cheating on me. Do you understand? Even if you love me, you're… seeing someone else. That's cheating, Draco," she said. Draco had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he knew he was cheating. But like hell he was going to admit it to Astoria. So he kept mum, dropping his eyes to the ground with as much of a guilty expression as he could muster. She bought it. "Oh, honey," she groaned, hugging him. "You don't love him?"

Draco winced. Now how to get out of that mess? "There isn't–"

"I know it must be confusing for you. But you should be talking this out, not keeping it in."

Draco blinked, his brows drawing up as Astoria gave him a warm squeeze. "Huh?" he asked.

"And I won't hold it against you. I could never do that."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, confused.

Astoria patted Draco's back. "I can't imagine what you must be going through…"

Draco slipped out of Astoria's arms and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Stori," he deadpanned.

"It's okay if you're gay," she said in all sincerity.

Draco's jaw fell open.

"It's not something you can control," she continued. "And I will support you any way I can."

"I– I'm not gay!" Draco exclaimed in horror.

She was smiling patronizingly as he said it. "What's his name?" she asked pointedly.

"I'm not– there's no– what?" Draco asked, raking his fingers through his hair. "What's going on?"

She sighed. "Stop trying to hide it, Draco. I know you would never cheat on me with another girl. I guess I lost sight of that fact when you… decided to spring the break-up on me." She punctuated that with a derisive scoff. "But I do know that you're cheating. Which means… it's with a boy. I'm right, aren't I?"

Draco was too stunned to be able to answer. How had she become so perceptive? "No… No, no, no, no, no. I'm not– I'm– I'm not gay," he said, appearing panic-stricken.

"That's a few no's too many," she said, smiling. "I'm not mad at you. I just want to hear you say it."

Draco gaped at Astoria. She's not mad? What? How? Why? "You– wait, you– you… are fine with me breaking up with you?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"We can't very well keep dating if you're… not interested in me," she said, putting it as delicately as she could.

"And you want me to… do what?" Draco asked, keeping caution on his side.

"I want you to say that you're gay," she said simply.

Easy enough. "I'm gay," Draco said.

He was slightly worried when he saw the bright grin on Astoria. That wasn't supposed to happen, was it? Where was the rest of the ranting and raving? The horrifying and maiming spells? Deplorable swears? Why on Earth would Astoria be happy about this?

Because she knows Draco wasn't cheating on her with another girl. As simple as that. And who doesn't want a gay friend?

She laughed shakily, hugging Draco again. "I freaked you out for a bit, didn't I?" she asked.

"Yeah. You did," Draco said. "Understatement of the year."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "No one's ever… broken up with me."

"I figured," he murmured.

She sighed. "We were supposed to be the perfect couple, Draco," she said.

"Hmm…"

"You haven't told anyone, have you?" she asked, feeling proud that she was the first to know.

"No one," Draco said honestly. Because he wasn't gay. So he didn't find the need to tell anyone. Astoria seemed quite good at making Draco say what she wanted him to say.

"Aren't you going to come out?" she asked.

"Never," Draco muttered, shaking his head.

"So, what? You just sneak about for the rest of your life?" she asked, suddenly all about gay rights and freedom.

"Um… yeah," Draco said. "What's wrong with that?" Besides, Potter was a short-term deal. Once both their fascinations wore out, Draco would go right back to liking women. No biggie.

"Hmm…" she mumbled, finally letting go of Draco. "Who is he?"

"Yeah, right," he muttered, rolling his eyes freely now that he knew she wasn't going to hex him.

"Come on," she urged him, nudging his arm. "Tell me."

"Sneaking about, remember?" he said.

"But it's me. You can tell me anything," she said. "Tell me who he is!"

"Stori…"

"Draco…"

Draco huffed indignantly. "I'm leaving," he said, stomping out of the room.

Astoria stomped off after him. "I'll just follow you until I meet him, then," she said.

Oh… You thought she was kidding? No. She wasn't.