Here it is, my lovely fans

The long awaited chapter ten

Although life's been a confusing dance

I've had time to write now and then

So here we are, finally

After waiting many weeks

Through computer problems frequently

A smile can stretch your flushè d cheeks

Do not worry, do not fret

Chapter eleven is on its way

The story has awhile yet

And will continue day by day

You've stuck with me through thick and thin

You been devoted through it all

What a joy you have been

Without you Spellbound would surely fall

All acknowledgements are at the end

Keep on reading, my dear friend

You've read it before, but I'll say it again

Inylan doesn't own this. End.

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"Ah, yes, now that you are all here," said Dumbledore, smiling at the four students assembled in his office. "Time to talk Quidditch."

Harry glanced around. It was Tuesday, and he had been pulled out of Divination for the Quidditch meeting Dumbledore had promised at the opening feast. Draco, of course, was there, but Harry didn't know the other two captains by name. The Hufflepuff captain, a tall girl with chestnut hair and a round face, was eyeing Harry and Draco warily, but with a smile on her face. The Ravenclaw captain, a shorter girl with extremely blonde hair was watching them both with a look of interest, but showed no other facial expression.

"First things first. Harry, Draco, this is Lucy Baker, from Ravenclaw, and this would be Alanna Jordan, from Hufflepuff." The girls smiled at each other, then at the boys. "Alanna, Lucy, this is Harry Potter of Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin. Now, on to the next order of business."

For the next few hours the four captains and the headmaster worked out a schedule for booking the Quidditch pitch, arranged the best weekends for games around their other activities, and discussed the basic rules that needed to be enforced.

"Hogwarts will be adding a new rule this year," said Dumbledore, his voice quickly losing all sense of triviality. "Any games that go on too far into the night, after seven o' clock, or are scheduled to take place in harsh weather conditions, will be postponed and continued later. With the war, we cannot provide any situations where all the players cannot be seen at all times. All games will be rescheduled, but we are not risking the injury of a student over a sport, no matter how important it may be."

Harry and Draco glanced at each other. They knew that this rule was put into effect for their sakes, and both felt guilty for forcing the headmaster to alter the rules of Quidditch for their safety. Harry felt his anger start to boil, but it dissipated as Dumbledore announced the next order of business.

"Now, I know that for the past few years the teams have been concerned with the condition of the school's racing brooms that we provide for the students who cannot afford their own. Upon Madame Hooch's inspection, we have ordered enough Nimbus 1700's to supply all the teams."

All four captains burst into to joyous cheers, and Harry even let out a whoop of joy, making the other four laugh.

Dumbledore launched into a long, drawn out explanation of how the brooms were to be cared for and each leased to a student through a contract, since they were new. The rest of the meeting revolved around politics, house relations and keeping the peace without losing the spirit of the rivalries, and general Quidditch talk. Tryouts were for the captains to decide, using their time on the field, but needed to be held within the next two weeks.

Walking out of Dumbledore's office at the start of lunch, Harry was a non-stop fountain of Quidditch talk. Draco wasn't much better: both were in a heated discussion about which professional teams had the best chances of winning that year, and whether it was better to switch teams depending on who was winning or stay loyal to one even when they were known for their losing streak. Ron and Seamus joined their conversation as they sat down at the table, with Dean muttering about wizards never understanding football.

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"Hey Ginny, can I talk to you for a second?" Harry asked as they worked on their homework in the common room. Ginny raised an eyebrow, but stood up and followed Harry to a quiet corner.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nah, nothing's wrong, unless you include my Potions grade." Harry made a face. "I wanted to ask you if you were planning on trying out for the Quidditch team."

Ginny looked shocked. "Me?" she asked. "I wasn't planning on it. Why?"

"Well, after watching you play this summer, I think you'd make a great Chaser." Harry watched Ginny's face as she mulled this over.

"Tryouts are next Tuesday, right?" she inquired. "And we do have the Quidditch pitch Friday afternoon and Saturday morning?"

"Yea. I'm opening it up to all Gryffindors who know how to use a broom and are planning to try out for the team. I thought they might want to get some practice in instead of going out for the team cold."

Ginny shrugged. "What the hell. I'll do it." She turned to go back to her seat, and Harry joined Ron and Hermione where they were working on their Potions assignment.

"What was that about, Harry?" Hermione asked, not glancing up from her parchment.

"Oh, I just wanted to talk to Ginny about trying out for one of the Chaser positions on the Quidditch team."

"She's going to, right?" Ron asked, looking up from the essay. "I've been working on some strategies, but they involve her flying style--"

"You've been working on strategies?" Harry cut in. "You haven't shown me any."

"I, well . . ." Ron said, blushing. "I wasn't quite done yet, and some of them are really pathetic. They're not worth much, just some ideas I was messing around with."

"While you should have been doing your homework," Hermione interjected, talking around the quill in her mouth. "If you spent as much time on your homework as you do on Quidditch--"

"Uh, how 'bout you come up and see those drawings?" Ron interrupted hastily, before Hermione could continue her tirade. "They're in the dorm."

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Although the strategies needed a bit of tweaking, Harry had to admit that the plays were ingenious.

"How did you come up with these?" Harry exclaimed, looking over one that involved a combined Porskoff Ploy and Reverse Pass while the Beaters faked Sloth Grip Rolls and slammed the Bludgers at the opposing team.

"Well, when History of Magic ceases to be interesting, I just doodle, and this is what comes out of it." Ron shrugged. "It's nothing, really."

Harry was still amazed. He had been thinking of Quidditch strategies since he had accepted his Captainship, but he hadn't invented anything as original, or as unanticipated, as the surplus of plays that Ron had done in his spare time.

"Ron, did you say you were going to try out for the team this year?" Harry asked, an idea forming in his mind.

Ron frowned. "I don't think so. I've gotten better, but I just can't function with everyone

watching me. Guess I just have bad case of stage fright."

"Well, if you want, you could be our strategist," Harry suggested.

An expression of disbelief anchored itself on Ron's face. "What?!"

"Well, we're going to need a new playbook, especially since the level of competition has been raised a few notches this year. Plus, you pick up all of the players' flying habits just by watching, and . . ." Harry started.

"And from that we can build a whole new strategy!" Ron grabbed a spare sheaf of parchment and began writing all his ideas down.

Harry grinned. "Oh, and you can help me pick who's going to make the team."

Ron let out a whoop and raced down the stairs to the common room with Harry close on his heels. Against Hermione's protests, they packed up their homework and spread out their Quidditch papers on the table, working with vigor until the embers of the fire had been reduced to ash.

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"Mm, you're late," Draco said as Harry crawled into bed. "What took you so long?"

"Ron and I were discussing Quidditch strategies. All that chess playing of his really pays off." Harry snuggled into Draco, shivering as the cool arms wrapped around his bare torso. "We're going to smash you this season."

"Sure. I'm captain this year, and the team will be making a few changes. New rule number one: no Death Eaters on the team."

Harry laughed. "So . . . You're going to be the only one on the team?"

Draco scowled. "Thanks. Make me feel really secure, why dontcha?"

"Oh, come off it." Harry scooted closer to Draco and wrapped him arms around the pale, naked chest. "So really, who are you going to choose for the team?"

Draco shrugged into the darkness. "Depends on who tries out. There are quite a few

Slytherins who aren't totally evil, just completely devious, like me."

"And these people would be . . . "

"Bletchy isn't that bad, although he has an attitude, but he's a good Keeper. And that girl who was sitting with Ginny, she can swing a bat pretty hard. She had some family that was Muggle born, and her cousins taught her how to play softball. Just watching her hit the ball was scary."

Harry sat up. "You allowed someone with Muggle blood in their family to be a Slytherin?"

"We didn't allow her, dimwit," Draco said, pulling Harry back down. "The Sorting Hat did."

"Oh, right," Harry said, concentrating on the feel of skin on skin. "Sorting hat, gotcha."

"Yes, the Sorting Hat," Draco murmured against Harry's cheek. A pink tongue darted out against the darkened cheek, swirling and licking along the jaw line. After a few moments it was captured by a pair of lips and urgently invited to explore Harry's mouth.

Harry lightly trailed the pads of his fingers down the inside of Draco's forearm, causing the blonde to shiver and move closer to the perpetrator. Harry tightened his grip around Draco's waist, pressing himself forward until they were so close nary a phoenix feather could be slipped between them, pale silver stands tangled with thick, dark locks, and bodies entwined so one could not tell where one boy ended and the other began.

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"Where in the world is Snape?" Ron asked. "This is the third time this week he's been late."

"Silence," Snape drawled, appearing in the doorway without warning. The chattering immediately ceased, the students' eyes following their professor as he made his way to the front of the classroom.

"Your assignment last night was to read over the potions most commonly used by Aurors to go undercover. Can anybody tell me the properties of the Proteus Draught?" Sharp beetle-eyes scanned the room, resting on Draco's raised hand. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"The Proteus Draught takes its name from the effects caused by this dangerous potion. It causes the drinker to take the shape and experience the thoughts of the other while still maintaining their own train of thought, disconcerting as it may be. It is related to the weaker Polyjuice Potions, which only allows the drinker to take the shape of another." Draco shifted his gaze to Harry, who kicked him under the table, before continuing. "It is a very effective potion, prized for its twenty-four hour duration when brewed in its most potent form. Aurors use it for undercover work often because the ingredients are abundant and the brewing procedure is fairly simple."

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. "Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin. The Proteus Draught is much too potent in its regular form to trust into the hands of children such as yourselves, and Merlin knows what havoc you would wreak with it if you could brew it. Therefore, we will be making a diluted version. You will prepare the ingredients outside of class, concoct the potion next class period, and add the runes and spells the period after . . ."

"Great," Harry heard Ron mutter. "More homework."

Snape sent a withering glance in Ron's direction. "This potion requires a small amount of time to ferment. Now, I have altered the ingredients listed in your book, seeing as they were inadequate and not quite advanced enough. The list is on the board, as are the altered directions. You have the rest of class to begin your work. A two roll essay on the history of this potion is due at the beginning of next class period, starting with its initial use in the Giant wars . . ."

Harry groaned inwardly. Not only was it the first class of the day, with Snape, but now he also had enough homework to drown in, counting the assignments he had neglected last night, and he hadn't been able to spend any time with Draco in the past few days. Harry's day was off to a very bad start.

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Divination found Harry flipping through Dream Interpretation as he fought to keep his eyes open. "I don't need to decode my dreams," he muttered. "When I have them, it's obvious: I dream about ice cream because I am hungry."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Ron said. Harry stared at him, mouth agape. "I mean, it could be worse. We could be doing tea leaves again. Plus, I think it's kind of interesting to see what our mind is really telling us."

Harry waved a hand in front of Ron's face. "Hello? You alright? I think Hermione slipped something into your drink this morning. You hate this class."

"I don't hate it, not anymore." Ron looked thoughtful. "No. I hate the really stupid things, like tea leaves and crystal balls and stuff, but this is wicked. This is about seeing what's going on within us, and we don't even know about it."

Harry mused over what Ron had said, then realized he what he was doing. "Um, sure. So, what does your dream mean?"

"Well, I had a dream about floating down a river in a boat, and then my friends were drowning . . . the river means that I'm ready to get rid of some feelings. That makes sense; I'm ready to get rid of all this anxiety and just tell Hermione that I like her. The drowning means I'm going under, losing all I had, or big ruin ahead. And all of this is water, emotions, which also makes a lot of sense." He paused and frowned. "I don't like the drowning, though. Why would all my friends be headed for ruin?"

Harry fidgeted. He was discomforted by Ron's interpretation, and realized that although it took Ron a while to get things, his best friend's subconscious wasn't as imperceptive as he had thought it was.

"Now, what about your dream?" Ron said, grinning. "I bet that ice cream really has a deeper meaning."

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Harry spent the remainder of the week observing the Gryffindors that took advantage of the open pitch. One had to admit that the talent among this year's selection was enormous, and Harry was glad to have Ron by his side to choose among the myriad of students.

"See there," Ron said through a mouthful of pumpkin pasty on Saturday afternoon. "That small boy, riding the Cleansweep? His broom is slower than mine, but he has real technique. I've never seen a seventh year pull off a Starfish and Stick with that much precision. Granted, it's still a bit sloppy . . . "

Harry grinned. "Maybe I should just let you select the team."

"What? No!" Ron frowned. "I want to help, yes, but I don't want to take over."

"Having fun?" Harry and Ron turned to see Draco heading towards them. The blonde glanced up at the sky, his eyes raking over the players. "Not a bad selection. Not quite as good as what we have, though."

"Oh, stop the scare tactics and sit down," Harry said, smacking his boyfriend on the shoulder. "What brings you out into the sun, Mr. Studyholic?"

"I am not a studyholic. I just happen to actually care whether I graduate or not." Draco smirked at Harry, who just stuck his tongue out at him and turned to watch the players once again. "I just wanted to stop by and view the competition, get an idea of what we're up against this year."

"So, in other words, snooping," Ron said, frowning.

"If you want to give it a negative connotation, yes," Draco said. "You're welcome to snoop at the Slytherin tryouts if you want."

"That's alright. We don't need to know what you're doing to win."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"If you two are going to keep bickering," Harry said, standing up, "I am not sitting between you. Plus, I want to go down to the pitch and talk to a few of the students."

"Mind if I come with you?" Draco said, also rising. "I promise I won't try to mutilate any of the players."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yea, come on. You coming, Ron?"

Ron glanced at the sky before he answered. "Nah, I think I'll stay here for a few minutes and see if I can find any more players that work well with that one Keeper. I like his style."

The two captains walked side by side in silence as they headed down the stairs to the pitch. Once out of sight, Draco ambushed Harry and pressed him up against the wall, trapping him with his body.

"What's this all about?" Harry asked, squirming. "I need to go talk to the players."

"You don't need to do anything," Draco said, warm breath ghosting over Harry's skin, cooled by the early fall winds. The contrasting temperatures sent shudders through Harry who instinctively pressed closer to Draco for warmth. "I haven't had you alone and awake for days now, and you practically die each night when we go to bed. It's nice just to see you for once."

Harry smiled, burying his head in Draco's shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent. "Yea, I've been caught up in Quidditch to the point where it's all I know," he admitted, voice muffled by the thick sweater he was speaking into. "Just give me until after Tuesday, alright? Then we can find some time to get together."

Draco placed a soft kiss in Harry's hair, then took him by the hand and started walking towards the pitch. They broke apart seconds before they came into view, scanning the sky above them with the calculating gaze of seasoned players.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Slytherin is going to kick your butt this year."

"Sure, Blondie."

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"Draco, get that Arithmancy book off the table and eat something!" demanded Harry, snatching the heavy text out from the other boy's nose. It was Monday, the final day of working on their Proteus potions, and while everyone else was hurriedly reviewing the runes and spells, Draco was reading ahead and not paying attention to the food surrounding him.

"Just because I'm doing some studying before class does not mean I'm not going to eat," he said. To prove his point, he shoved half of a chocolate muffin in his mouth and glared at Harry. "Affy ow? Gih ee i oo." He reached out to grab it, but Harry just passed him a goblet of pumpkin juice, smirking.

"He's a regular ol' Hermione, isn't he?" asked Dean, who was surveying the scene with mild interest. "Always has his face stuck in some book."

"Yea, but usually the books are Dark Magic," muttered a fourth year sitting next to Ron, who promptly turned and smacked the student upside the head.

"I am the only one allowed to make comments like that," said the red head, glaring at the scowling boy. he leaned over and dropped his voice. "Just give him a chance. He's not that bad. Good to have on your side, really."

The boy stared at Ron openmouthed. "You, of all people, I never expected to accept that slimy git. What is wrong with the lot of you?" The boy stood up and stomped off.

"What just happened?" asked Harry, who had caught the last sentence. "Who's that?"

"Oh, just some whiny brat who couldn't keep his mouth shut," Ron said, avoiding Harry's gaze. "Just stirring up trouble."

Harry shrugged and turned back to Draco. "You ready to go to class?"

"Harry! We still have a good fifteen minutes before we even need to leave!" Ron exclaimed. "Why in the world do you want to go to Potions early?"

"We need the entire period to finish the Potion, so we're going to set up early." Harry gathered up his bag and Draco's Arithmancy book. "See you there in a few minutes."

"Yea, see you." Ron was giving Harry a funny look, but Seamus was poking him in the side and shoving the latest edition of the Cannon's owl-order catalog in his face, so his attention was quickly shifted.

Once they were out of the Great Hall, Draco stopped Harry. "Alright, what's going on? You know that we don't need any extra time for our potion, AND you force fed me like the food was going to disappear if I didn't inhale it. What are you trying to do?"

Harry smiled. "Just follow me. I want to talk to you, but I couldn't do it in there, and I can't do it here. We need somewhere more private."

Draco's eyes lit up. "The prefects' bathroom?"

"There is no way in hell I am going there with you again. I don't trust you with that bathroom." Harry shook his head. "No, this is a little more serious. Just come on."

Draco raised an eyebrow, then caught up with Harry, who was walking quickly towards the dungeons.

"So, do I get any hints about what this whole serious talk is about?" Draco frowned. "It's not bad serious, is it? Like you're going to tell me that I'm a lousy kisser and Weasley knows all your hot spots, right?"

Harry made a face, shuddered, then laughed. "No, Draco, I wouldn't let you go if I had the choice, especially not for Ron. He's one of my best friends, not . . .like you and me. Plus, he likes Hermione."

Draco smiled, then fluttered his eyelashes and raised his voice a few octaves. "Oh, I feel so loved. Come here, my little sweetums." He reached out his arms motioning for Harry to come closer. Harry, who thought Draco was only kidding, was promptly tackled when he didn't respond, ending up on his back with Draco on top of him.

"I said come here." Draco's voice was back to it's deep growl, and Harry flushed as Draco's warm breath ghosted over his cheeks. "And when I say to do something, you should obey."

Harry laughed. "Are you trying to be dominant?"

Draco sat back on Harry's stomach, frowning. "You mean I'm not?" When Harry didn't reply, Draco smirked. "Doesn't seem like you're in much of a position to say anything about it."

"And you're in the perfect position to do something about it," Harry said coyly, closing his eyes as Draco leaned down to kiss him. Tongues probed, teeth nibbled, and lips ravished for a good minute before either of them broke contact.

"You should probably get off me, seeing as the rest of the school is scheduled to come barreling down this corridor in, oh, two minutes," said Harry pushing Draco off him. "Plus, I still haven't talked to you."

"Hmm, I just heard words coming out of your mouth that were directed towards me. Does that count as talking?" Draco ducked as Harry swung at him. "Fine, don't have a sense of humor."

"Whatever. Now, oh, wait, this isn't right." Draco was brushing nonexistent flecks of dust off his robes, but Harry grabbed his wrists. "Look at me, stop moving, concentrate on me . . . Yes, thank you, that's it."

"Jeez, Harry, what is it? You're acting like a schoolgirl."

"You mean all kinky and slutty?"

"No, shy and wanting to make everything perfect."

"Because I've never done this before."

"Done what?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Draco, will you go to the Halloween Ball with me?"

Draco paused, then smiled. "Aww, is my boyfriend asking me to the dance?"

Harry blushed. "Yes," he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink. His eyes were downcast, and he determinedly studied the pattern of worn bricks on the floor while waiting for Draco's response.

"Harry?" Harry looked up at the sound of his name and was met with two very warm, very hungry lips that gave him one of the most tender kisses he had ever experienced. Draco backed him up against the wall, one arm holding himself up and the other holding Harry's hand.

"So I'll take that as a yes," murmured Harry.

"Good guess." Draco nuzzled against Harry. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being you." Harry felt that warm fuzzy feeling come over him again. Although he was getting used to it, it was still a little disconcerting, not to mention embarrassing once people noticed the goofy smile that came with it.

"Same to you, Blondie. Now get off me and fix your hair. I don't want everyone staring at you all class period because you have that amazingly sexy "just ravished" look. That look is reserved for me and me only."

Draco smiled coyly. "Ah yes, the overprotective boyfriend returns. Now lets go set up our cauldron before everyone gets here and asks what we've been doing for half an hour. Alone."

The boys entered the empty classroom and prepared their work station. The unfinished potions, which had been labeled and stored in the cupboard next to the cabinet with all the ingredients at the end of the last class, were now lined up on Snape's desk. Harry grabbed theirs, emptied it into the cauldron, and looked to Draco.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked. "Should we start the incantations?"

Draco sighed. "This is the reason you are so bad at Potions, Harry. You have absolutely no patience. The directions say to let the potion come to a boil, then say the incantations while tracing the runes in the surface with our wands. Plus, you should never make a potion without the supervision of someone who knows what he's doing, in case something goes wrong. We'll wait for Snape."

The rest of the class filtered in and set up before the bell rang, and the moment Snape stepped in the door and gave the signal to begin, the class began to buzz with activity.

"Ok, ready?" Draco asked, his wand poised above the purple liquid. "All we have to do is clearly say Vicissitudo while tracing the runes dagaz and eihwaz on to the surface of the potion, and we should be finished." The boys performed the last step and watched as the potion slowly turned into a thick purple syrup.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, congratulations. You are the only pair to have brewed the potion correctly thus far. Ten points to both your houses." Harry looked up to see Snape looking down at them with a look of surprise on his face. "Bottle your entire potion and bring it up to my desk. Clean up your station and wait for the other groups to finish, and then we can test yours."

"Did Snape just award points to Gryffindor?" Ron gaped. "That has to be a first."

Fifteen minutes later Snape called for all the potions to be handed in, to the disappointment of many students who hadn't finished or hadn't brewed their potion properly and were desperately trying to fix it.

"Mr.'s Malfoy and Potter were the only pair to correctly brew their potion," Snape announced to class once they had resumed their seats. "Therefore, we will be using theirs to demonstrate the effects of this potion. If I could have Mr. Malfoy and . . . Mr. Weasley please come to the front of the class."

Draco and Ron looked at each other with despair and shock. Ron was mortified, Harry could see it written all over his face.

Both boys approached the front of the room with caution, as if abstaining from contact with the other would make the ordeal less painful.

"Now, if I could get each of you to sacrifice a hair or two, please." The expression on Snape's face told of the immense joy he was getting out of Ron's displeasure. Filling two vials, he slipped the hairs into each, and handed them to their respective students. "Now, the transformation is confusing, because you will go blind for the few seconds it takes for your body to adjust, but it will not be painful. The effects will last for about fifteen minutes. Cheers."

Draco and Ron both sent looks of pure hatred at their professor, then downed the vials in one gulp. Draco handed the vial back to Snape, but Ron just dropped his.

"That stuff is vile!" he exclaimed, disgust twisting his features. "It tastes like molten metal! It's- ugh - is that my voice?"

Ron stopped. His voice had risen a few notes, and his skin was lightening. Looking up was like looking into a distorted mirror: each boy saw the other, but himself, and slowly they morphed into exact images. The entire class was howling in laughter, and both victims looked miserable.

"Thank you for being such good volunteers. You may take your seats." Snape didn't even bother to repress his smirk, and sat down behind his desk with an evil look in his eyes.

"I feel like a bloody tree I'm so bloody tall," Draco muttered as he took his seat next to Harry and buried his face in his hands. "Why me? Now I can't stop thinking about Hermione. This is not normal. Oh, that would be good for blackmail . . ."

"Oh, shit." Harry said, alarm bells ringing in his mind. "Draco, if you can't stop thinking about Hermione, that means Ron can't stop thinking about me." Draco looked up, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh fucking hell," he said under his breath. "Almost forgot about that. This is not good."

"No, it's not." Harry miserably picked up his schoolbag as the bell rang, trudging through the door. "Let's just hope he doesn't think too much about it."

"Yea." Draco sighed. "I'm just going to go to class. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

Harry smiled wanly. "Yea, See you."

"Hey, Harry." Harry froze as he head Draco's voice, or Ron-as-Draco's voice, right behind him. Turning, he plastered a smile on his face.

"Hey Ron. Ready for Divination?" Harry turned and started off for the tower at a brisk pace, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Harry, wait, we have half an hour, don't walk so fast!" Ron jogged to catch up. "This is so weird. I feel like . . . I dunno, like I'm too full. I'm experiencing Draco's feelings, but my own at the same time, and it's confusing."

A glimmer of hope pierced the dread inside Harry. Maybe, if Ron was confused, he wouldn't be able to decipher what Draco was feeling towards him.

"It's getting a little better, though. His thoughts are a bit more sarcastic and have a lot to do with you, while mine don't use the word bloody so much."

Or maybe not.

"Snape is such an arse," Harry muttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair.

"And you are really sexy when you do that." Harry looked at Ron, who was holding both hands over his mouth.

"What?" Harry swallowed hard. "What did you just say?"

"I'm sorry. I opened my mouth to agree with you and that just popped out. It was what Draco would have said." Ron frowned. "Why would he think that?"

Harry paled, then turned off down the corridor. "I don't know. He's always been a bit different."

"Yea." They walked in awkward silence for a few minutes, Harry not daring to look at Ron/Draco.

"I have the sudden urge to kiss you right now," Ron stated, matter-of-fact. "Why would Draco want to kiss you?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Harry said, turning around and yelling at his friend. "It's not like I can read his every thought!"

"Whoa," said Ron/Draco, stepping forward to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you." He lifted his hand and turned Harry's face towards him. "You alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine. The Proteus thing is just bugging me. I can't tell if it's you or Draco thinking."

"Usually it's me, but Draco's thoughts and willpower are pretty strong." At these words, Harry looked up, his eyes locking with Ron/Draco's silver ones. "I don't think I can battle them too much longer."

"Ron, the potion only lasts a few more minutes, hang on." Harry tried to step away from the pseudo-blonde, but Ron backed him up against the wall.

"Ron! It's me, Harry! You like Hermione! Stop, don't, mmph." Ron silenced Harry by gently kissing him full on the mouth. Harry's thoughts were screaming at him. It felt like Draco, tasted like Draco, in most senses it was Draco, and Harry's contact-starved body was screaming for more. But there was something missing, something that just wasn't right.

It's the fact that this person is not your boyfriend! his mind yelled.

Harry bit back a moan as Ron started licking a trail down his neck, sucking at the smooth curve of his collarbone. One of Ron's hands was tangled in raven locks, the other holding Harry's shoulder against the wall. Harry was pinned.

"Draco, I mean, Ron, no, stop," Harry managed before Ron's hand slid up his shirt. When the front of his robes had been undone, he didn't know, but his body was reacting in all the right ways, which just made him more frustrated.

"Harry," Ron whispered, returning his attention to Harry's lips, "You are so bloody attractive it's ridiculous." Ron began to ravish Harry's vulnerable mouth, gently scraping his teeth across Harry's lower lip and using his hands to pull Harry closer.

Harry closed his eyes. In his position, pushing Ron/Draco off his was impossible. Still, he tried, but to no avail.

"You know you like this," Ron/Draco murmured. "I can feel it."

Harry grimaced. Shit. Not good.

Suddenly, something was different. Ron lifted his head from Harry's, Harry felt Ron's fingers growing thicker, but not much longer, his body sprouting a few inches, the texture of his hair changing. Harry thought for sure that this was the end, that now Ron would step away and let Harry compose himself. He was wrong.

"Ron, do y'think you could get off me?" Harry said, his voice quiet.

"Ugh. I feel like I've been hit over the head with a tree." Ron collapsed against Harry, who was silently cursing any higher powers that might exist. "What happened?"

"Yes, I'd like to know that, too."

Harry, without having to peer around the red hair covering his face, knew that the voice belonged to Draco, that Draco had seen, and that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was officially screwed.

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What'll happen next? What'll Draco say? Does Ron remember anything?

Like I'm telling you before I write the next chapter.

Answers to Reviews:

AsTheyreFalling: Just curious- where did you hear of Spellbound? I just like to know who mentions my stuff and where. J And from now on, updates will be more frequent.

SaFire flamE: Wow- you reviewed almost every single chapter before I could get this up! I love the questions- it makes my little cliffhangers worthwhile!

Starrarose: Gracias- I can't stand the "must edit" thing. Fortunately, I have my own little site to post on, thank God.

Cherry0214: Begging? On knees? Yea, that gets me to write a bit faster! If you need to occupy yourself while waiting (yea, long chapters take awhile to write, sorry) check out my favorites lists- plenty of great H/D stuff there. J

Slytherinkid07: Thanks for the edit. I told you guys that I can't type for beans . . .

PeachDancer82: I had to make it a little non-canon, but it works out pretty well. There's tons more planned, I just have to get on with writing it!

Review, please, as always. Oh, and if anyone would like to be a beta reader for me, someone who can proofread stuff and preferably get it back within 48 hours, just let me know in a review or an e-mail.

¡ Adios mis amigos!