Chapter 11

Slughorn's Party

To put it bluntly, Ron's confidence was in the shitter. He was actively avoiding both Neville and Blaise, and Harry started to worry how this both affected him and the team. Harry lay awake for a long time in the darkness on the night before their first match. He didn't want to lose it; not only was it his first as Captain, but he was determined to beat Draco. Yet if Ron played as he had done in the last few practices, their chances of winning were very slim. …

If only there was something he could do to make Ron pull himself together …make him play at the top of his form …something that would ensure that Ron had a really good day …

And the answer came to Harry in once, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration.

Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Harry glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen.

Harry stole a quick glance at the Slytherin table, ignoring the glares as he looked for his new boyfriend. Draco was sitting in his seat, dressed in his Quidditch robes, eating. As he sat down next to Ron, Harry asked "Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

"Anything," Ron said glumly, taking a moody bite of toast. A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.

"How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head.

"Fine," Harry said, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply. "Don't drink that, Ron!"

Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.

"Why not?" Ron asked.

Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she couldn't believe her eyes. "You just put something in that drink."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, stowing the bottle hastily into his pocket.

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, "Stop bossing me around, Hermione."

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, "You should be expelled for that, I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!"

"Hark who's talking," he whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?"

She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was. He then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.

"Nearly time," Harry said blithely.

The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.

"Pretty lucky the weather's this good, eh?" Harry asked Ron.

"Yeah," Ron said, looking pale and sick-looking.

"Conditions look ideal," Ginny said as they entered the changing room. "And get this, that Slytherin Chaser Vaisey—he took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play!"

"That's lucky," Ron said looking slightly more animated. "He's their best goal scorer. I didn't fancy—hey!"

"What?"

"I… you…" Ron had dropped his voice, he looked both scared and excited. "My drink … my pumpkin juice … you didn't…"

Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except "We'll be starting in about five minutes, get your boots on."

Harry was surprised that Draco wasn't the Slytherin Captain. It would have been perfect, he mused as he was forced to shake hands with Urquhart, a seventh year. Draco stood behind the brute, and couldn't help but smirk at Harry It was as if he thought he had already won the game. He couldn't wait to wipe that look off the dragon as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help…"

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Harry craned around on his broom looking toward the commentator's podium. A tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Harry recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom he heartily disliked.

"Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal. It's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and—

"—Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose. …"

"That's right Smith, he is," Harry muttered, grinning to himself.

"What was that?" Draco's voice said behind him. Harry turned, surprised to see Draco hovering behind him.

"Nothing Malfoy," Harry said looking around. "Just thinking of what I'm planning to make you do after I win. Know any tricks as a dragon? Can you roll over?"

"Watch it Potter," Draco growled playfully. "Before your broom starts to burn."

Harry laughed at that, and sped away, starting the familiar game of cat and mouse between them. With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.

"Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater," Zacharias said loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle—"

"Hit a Bludger at him!" Harry called to Coote as he zoomed past, Draco following, his laughs mirthful, but Coote, grinning broadly, chose to aim the next Bludger at Draco instead. Harry couldn't help but be pleased to hear the dull thunk that meant the Buldger had found its mark. He spun around to laugh as Draco tried to gain control of his broom again.

"Piss off Harry!" Draco yelled as he flew towards Harry again, who was starting to control his laughing again. It felt weird playing against Draco Malfoy in Quidditch with no hatred between them, but Harry sort of liked it. There was no way he would allow Draco to win, but still he liked the feeling.

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King," he pretended to conduct them from on high.

"He seems to be happy, doesn't he?" Draco mused as they were neck-to-neck, mostly so Harry could keep up with their conversation.

"Yeah… so?"

"Think he'll accept Blaise needing Ne—"

"Don't talk about that now," Harry said, "I was just starting to like this."

"You never really allowed Blaise to properly explain it," Draco said.

"Is this really the time to talk about mates and creatures, lizard-tongue?" Harry barked out.

Draco gave a laugh and said, "Lizard-tongue? Is that the best you got Potter?"

"Shut up."

They've flown high, both boys ignoring the commentary as they pretended to chase after the snitch. "But serious Harry, if Blaise doesn't have both Ron and Neville, all three of them could possibly die!"

"How?"

"Well," Draco said as they turned to avoid a lone cloud. "If it was just Blaise and Ron, Ron will become a mindless sex slave to put it bluntly. And Blaise, becoming more and more frustrated, would become violent."

Harry grimaced and shook his head. "I don't have time for this right now, wait for later!" And with that, he sped away from Draco, seeing a hint of gold far below. Harry accelerated in his dive; the wind was whistling in his ears so that it drowned all sound of Smith's commentary or the crowd. Draco seemed to notice it as well, and chased after him, but Harry was too far ahead. His hand outstretched, Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.

"YES!" Harry yelled. Wheeling around, he hurtled back toward the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that ended the game.

Draco looked disappointed, but Harry knew that it was more of losing their bet than the match. Harry cheered with the rest of the team, and clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air and waving to their supporters.

The atmosphere in the changing room was jubilant. The rest of the team left to celebrate in the common room, leaving Harry and Ron. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined.

"I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" Ron demanded.

"What are you two talking about?" Harry asked, turning away to hang up his robes so that neither of them would see him grinning.

"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" Hermione said shrilly. "You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

"No, I didn't," Harry said, turning back to face them both.

"Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right!"

"I didn't put it in!" Harry said, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

He pocketed the potion again.

"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said astounded. "But the weather's good …and Vaisey couldn't play … I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"

Harry shook his head Ron gaped at him for a moment. He turned to Hermione and opened his mouth, but the changing room doors opened again and Blaise and Draco walked in. "Ron! That was beautiful what you did out there!" Blaise cheered. He hugged Ron and kissed his cheek, slipping his arm around Ron's waist.

"Thanks," Ron blushed, suddenly at a loss of words. Harry was happy to see that peace seemed to be restored between the couple as he looked at Hermione. He mouthed the words, 'They had a row' which she nodded to.

"I'm serious Ron, that was amazing what you did out there! I knew my boyfriend was a great Keeper," Blaise smiled. "That has to be hereditary right?"

"Um no," Ron said shaking his head. "I'm the first one in my family."

"Really?" Blaise asked, guiding Ron slowly out of the changing room, giving the redhead his undivided attention. When the two left the changing room, Hermione turned to Harry. "What was going on between them?" she demanded.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. "It's hard to explain," Harry began.

"Harry. Whatever it is almost ruined Ron's and mine friendship," Hermione said. "Tell me now."

Harry looked between his friend and Draco. Not knowing the full situation, at least not as much as Draco apparently does, he turned towards Draco and crossed his arms. "I don't know the full thing either, Hermione," he said. "But he does."

Draco threw a glare at Harry before addressing both of them. "Well Granger, to put it shortly, Blaise is a creature called an Incubus. You can look them up later, but really what you need to know is that in order to keep him stable, and sane Blaise needs two 'mates' or boyfriends. They as well need him for the same reason. Ron found out, and after having sex with Blaise learned who the second mate is."

"Well… who is he?" Hermione insisted.

"Longbottom," Draco shrugged.

Hermione kept quiet. Harry could see the wheels in her head whirling as she worked out Draco's short explanation. Harry and Draco stayed silent, looking at each other as Hermione thought. "So, what you are telling me is that Blaise is an Incubus, and in order to keep himself, Ron, and Neville safe he needs to be in a um… relationship with them both," Hermione said, her cheeks extremely pink.

"Yes," Draco nodded.

Hermione just shook her head and said, "Then Blaise is the reason for Ron's and mine argument."

"Yes again," Draco said.

"Great…" Hermione muttered. "Anything else you want to tell me?" she asked Harry.

"Well… Seamus and I kind of broke up," Harry admitted. "He was umm snogging Dean behind Ginny's back."

"What!?" Hermione said loudly. "Are you okay Harry? How is Ginny going to feel when she find out? You're not actually going to tell her are you?"

"No," Harry said. "I don't care about Seamus or Dean right now. If they want to do that, I'm fine with it."

"But still… that's just terrible," Hermione muttered to herself. Both Harry and Draco just nodded and decided to leave it at that.

The three started back towards Hogwarts when Draco looked at Harry. "So, you won the bet," he said.

Both Harry and Hermione looked at him as Harry nodded. "Yeah I did," he smirked cockily.

"So, what do you want to do? Loser does anything the winner wants right?" Draco said.

Harry thought about it for a moment before shrugging, "I can't think of one yet. I'll let you know."

Draco nodded, and they made their separate ways. In the Gryffindor Common Room, they found a reluctant Ron talking with Neville. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other but kept their space as it seems as if Ron and Neville were only having a civil talk, which was far from mates and Incubi. Hermione, however, found it a bit amusing when Lavender Brown tried to talk, if not snog, Ron who just completely ignored her.

"Honestly some girls these days," Hermione said to Harry. "They think gay is a symptom or something they can do away with."

Harry snorted, smiling as it seems that his two best friends were far from splitting.

"What is he doing?" Draco asked, pointing towards Nott who was hunched over in a corner desk. He was in the Slytherin common room with Blaise, who just finished telling Draco about his and Ron's talk after the Quidditch match. "He's paler than usual."

Blaise looked at Nott and frowned. Draco was right, the boy did seem paler than usual, heavy bags under his eyes as he seemed to be working on some homework. "You're right. Most likely doing homework, I guess. Anyway, how is it with you and Harry?" he smirked.

"Doing good, I can't complain," Draco said. "I lost the bet, thought Harry didn't tell me what he wants me to do."

Blaise just looked at him for a moment before saying, "Maybe he'll want you to give him a ride."

Draco barked out a laugh, "As if I'll allow that! He has a broom, he can fly that if he wants to."

"You'll never know," Blaise shrugged before they were interrupted with the loudness and annoyance of the rest of Slytherin House, all of them sadden and annoyed that they've lost.

Snow was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching fast. Hagrid had already single-handedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas trees for the Great Hall; garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted around the banisters of the stairs; everlasting candles glowed from inside the helmets of suits of armor and great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at intervals along the corridors. Large groups of girls tended to converge underneath the mistletoe bunches every time Harry went past, which caused blockages in the corridors; fortunately, however, Harry's frequent nighttime wanderings had given him an unusually good knowledge of the castle's secret passageways, so that he was able, without too much difficulty, to navigate mistletoe-free routes between classes.

Harry and Hermione were together in the library, Harry hunched over the Prince's copy of Advanced Potion-Making, when she said, "You need to be careful."

"For the last time," Harry said, speaking in a slightly hoarse whisper after forty-five minutes of silence, "I am not giving back this book, I've learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have taught me in—"

"I'm not talking about your stupid so-called Prince," Hermione said, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her. "I'm talking about earlier. I went into the girl's bathroom just before I came here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane, trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They're all hoping they're going to get you to take them to Slughorn's party, and they all seem to have bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work—"

"But I'm gay," Harry said. "And why didn't you confiscate them then?" he demanded.

"As if they care, and they didn't have the potions with them in the bathroom," Hermione said scornfully. "They were just discussing tactics. I'd just invite someone to go with you, that'll stop all the others thinking they've still got a chance… even though they realistically don't. It's tomorrow night, they're getting desperate."

"There isn't anyone I want to invite," Harry mumbled. "I mean, Seamus dumped me for a closet case."

"What 'bout Malfoy?" Hermione asked sharply, still not comfortably talking about the Slytherin. "Aren't you two?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I mean… it's weird, ya know? Like we hang around, ya know, but we don't exactly kiss and stuff like that."

"Well… just be careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business," Hermione said grimly.

She hitched up the long roll of parchment on which she was writing her Arithmancy essay and continued to scratch away with her quill. Harry watched her with his mind a long way away.

"Hang on a moment, I'm gay those love potions can't affect me right?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, still concentrating on her essay. "It's Fred and George, anything's possible with those louts."

Harry nodded. When Hermione finished her essay, Madam Prince the librarian caught them both bad mouthing Filch as Harry questioned how Fred and George's products sneaked past Filch. She practically kicked them both out of the library, which caused them both a laugh. Harry enjoyed the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted, lamp-lit corridors back to the common room, arguing about whether or not Filch and Madam Prince were secretly in love with each other.

As soon as they walked into the common room, Romilda Vane stepped in front of them. "Hi Harry! Fancy a gillywater?"

Hermione gave him a "what-did-I-tell-you" look over her shoulder.

"No thanks," Harry said quickly. "I don't like it much."

"Well, take these anyway," Romilda Vane said, thrusting a box into his hands. "Chocolate Cauldrons, they've got firewhiskey in them. My gran sent them to me, but I don't like them."

"Oh—right—thanks a lot," Harry said who could not think what else to say. "Er—I'm just going over here with …"

He hurried off behind Hermione, his voice tailing away feebly.

"Told you," Hermione said succinctly. "Just ask Malfoy. The sooner you do that, the sooner they'll leave you alone…It doesn't have to be a stupid date, just go as friends."

"Alright, fine, I'll see what Draco wants," Harry said, closing the conversation. They saw Ron and Hermione walked up to him. Ron didn't say anything as she asked, "You and Blaise doing alright? Harry and Malfoy told me about your uh… situation."

"Fine," Ron said, his eyes shifting towards Neville, hints of jealousy still in his eyes. "Just don't want to talk about that right now. Or even see Longbottom." Hermione nodded and, much to Harry's relief, started to have a normal conversation with Ron.

Harry finally found a time to talk to Draco after Transfiguration. They had a difficult lesson. They had just embarked upon the immensely difficult topic of human Transfiguration; working in front of mirrors, they were supposed to be changing the color of their own eyebrows. At the end, Harry ran up to Draco, who was walking with a small group of Slytherins, and yelled, "Draco! Come here!"

The other Slytherins sneered at Harry, only to stop after a glare from Draco. "Go on," he commanded, the rest of the Slytherins scurrying away. "It's good to be the king," Draco chuckled. "What is it Harry?"

"Slughorn's Christmas party is tonight," Harry began. "I can't get out of it, so you want to come with me? Make it a bit more bearable?"

"Of course," Draco chuckled. "Though you don't need Slughorn to ask me on a date."

"No. This isn't a date," Harry said. "I'm still holding onto that one favor from our bet Draco. It can either be this, or something worse."

Draco chuckled and step towards Harry. He placed his fingers on Harry's chin and lifted them, so he that Harry was staring up into his eyes. "And what is it you're thinking of you bad Gryffindor?" Draco purred. "Remember who you're flirting with Harry."

"Shut up lizard," Harry blushed, smacking Draco's hands away. "So you want to come with me or not?"

"Yeah, of course I do," Draco smirked.

"Good, we'll meet at the entrance hall at eight?" Harry asked.

"Of course love," Draco snickered. Harry's face gone red with annoyance and embarrassment (mostly embarrassment). "Oh, one more thing Harry, I'm the blonde in this couple," Draco said, pointing to Harry's eyebrow, which was still bright yellow.

Harry glared at Draco as the Slytherin took out his wand and fixed it. Draco just chuckled to himself and promised to see Harry at eight.

When he arrived in the entrance hall at eight o'clock that night, he found an unusually large number of girls lurking there, all of whom seemed to be staring at him resentfully. He ignored them the best he could as he waited for Draco. He decided to sit on a stone bench as he waited, stretched out on it. The looming girls said nothing as Harry waited, each other them glaring at each other, daring one another to sit down next to Harry.

"You're late," Harry said when Draco finally appeared, wearing dark silver dress robes that had a light blue trimming. Draco chuckled and said, "No I'm not."

"Yes you are," Harry said. "Ten minutes late."

"'A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to,'" Draco quoted as he walked towards Harry.

Harry looked confused, but shook his head.

"Muggle book," Draco said.

"You read muggle books?" Harry snickered. "I thought the great Draco Malfoy would be above anything 'muggle.'"

"Oh I am," Draco said, offering a hand to Harry. "I am above any common muggle in looks, skill, intelligence, and sexual attractiveness. But there are some fictions that they've created that I am a fan of."

"Really?" Harry smiled. "Nice to see the Prat of Slytherin isn't as much as a prat as I thought of."

Draco laughed at this as he led Harry to the marble staircase away from all the staring and muttering. "There's a lot you don't know about me Harry," Draco mused. "But you'll see all of that in time. So, where is this party?"

"Slughorn's office," Harry said. "Apparently there's a vampire coming."

"Bullocks," Draco said, "the old man is not daft enough to bring one of those in here… is he?"

"Well there seems to be no problem with an incubus and a lizard running around," Harry said.

"Dragon. I'm a dragon Potter, get it right," Draco said.

"What? Like a common welsh green?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"No," Draco shook his head. "A Drogo. I happen to be the world's most dangerous and powerful Dragon, Harry."

"And a massive ego-centric git," Harry muttered.

"A git who you are dating," Draco pointed out. Harry laughed, followed by Draco's, but soon their laughter was drowned out by the sounds of laughter, music, and loud conversations coming from Slughorn's office.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all in a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like roving tables.

"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn boomed, almost as soon as Harry and Draco had squeezed in through the door. "Come in, come in, so many people I'd like you to meet!"

Slughorn was wearing a tasseled velvet hat to match his smoking jacket. Gripping Harry's arm so tightly he might have been hoping to Disapparate with him, Slughorn led him purposefully into the party; Harry seized Draco's hand and dragged him along with him.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires—and, of course, his friend Sanguini."

Harry leaned towards Draco as Worple, a small, stout, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Do vampires—"

"No they don't, they're just annoying blood suckers," Draco said, giving the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, a sharp look. A gaggle of girls was standing close to him, looking curious and excited.

Draco was telling the truth. While, yes, a majority of creature inheritance does in fact have mates, there is a small population that do not have mates of any kind for several of reasons, most of which involving of how they were made. A short list of the population would include vampires, werewolves, fairies (the human-sized kind found in forested areas), Imps (common little trouble-makers who pop out of the ground), wood nymphs (totally different from fairies unless you want a broken arm), and merpeople. These creatures all have a lack of mates due to either being made into the creature, such as vampires, werewolves, and some merpeople, or being too childish or immature to know what a mate is (see imps). Any witch, wizard, or muggle believing themselves to be "mates" to one of these creatures are generally concerned as boring and dangerous, especially as studies show a large population of them seem to gravitate towards vampires, and it often leads to death, very unhappy marriages, or a sour memory that is impossible to forget or move past. Scholars still debate on which outcome is the worst.

Worple seemed to Harry to be a biographer, as he tried to propose to write Harry's biography. "If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four-or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the book finished within months. And all with very little effort on your part, I assure you—ask Sanguini here if it isn't quite—Sanguini, stay here!" Worple added, suddenly stern, for the vampire had been edging toward the nearby group of girls, a rather hungry look in his eye. "Here, have a pastry," Worple said, seizing one from a passing elf and stuffing it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to Harry.

"See, blood sucker," Draco said a bit loudly.

"I'm not interested," Harry said firmly before Worple said another word. "I see a friend of ours… sorry."

He pulled Draco after him into the crowd; he had indeed just seen a long mane of brown hair disappear between what looked like two members of the Weird Sisters.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

"Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Malfoy."

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil's Snare.

"Oh, I've just escaped—I mean, I just left McLaggen. He thought since I went here alone that he was free to talk to me," Hermione said.

"Why would—"

"Doesn't matter," Hermione said. "Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall. …"

The three of them made their way over to the other side of the room, scooping up goblets of mead on the way, realizing too late that Professor Trelawney was standing there alone.

She seemed to be minding her own business, smelling like cooking sherry. Harry turned to Draco and asked, "So what are you going to do during Christmas break?"

"As much as I hate to say it, I'll most likely have to go home to Malfoy Manor for Christmas," Draco said. "I haven't heard a single word from my parents, and they'll probably think it's suspicious of me to not return."

"Why? What's the matter?" Harry asked.

"Well, last time I saw them, we were surrounded by Death Eaters," Draco said, glancing to make sure no one was hearing them. "And knowing my father, they would most likely try to force me to join their side. As if that would be possible."

Harry nodded and frowned, remembering the news Dumbledore shared with him. "You know you can always come to the Burrow with me," he said. "I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley won't mind."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Hermione frowned. "No offense Malfoy, but your family and the Weasleys don't exactly have the best relationship."

Draco shrugged. Harry however said, "No, I'm sure they'll understand. Then I could beat Draco in Quidditch every day during the break!"

"What is it with you boys and Quidditch?" Hermione said a bit angrily. "Is that all boys care about? Cormac hasn't asked me one single question about myself, no, I've just been treated to 'A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen' nonstop ever since—oh no, here he comes!"

She moved so fast it was as though she had Disapparated; one moment she was there, the next, she had squeezed between two guffawing witches and vanished.

"Seen Hermione?" McLaggen asked, forcing his way through the throng a minute later.

"No, sorry," Harry said, and he turned quickly towards Draco, as if they were in a private conversation.

"So how about it?" Harry asked.

"I'll think about it," Draco said, crossing his arms. "Maybe… who knows, it depends on how many of his friends father decides to invite."

Harry nodded and tried not to frown, he knew exactly who would be at the Manor and wanted to warn Draco immediately, but there were too many people around them, too many ears. He couldn't give Draco a proper warning, and Harry kicked himself for not warning Draco sooner.

"Harry Potter!" Professor Trelawney said in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time.

"Oh, hello," Harry said unenthusiastically.

"My dear boy!" she said in a very carrying whisper. "The rumors! The stories! 'The Chosen One'! Of course, I have known for a very long time. …The omens were never good, Harry. …But why have you not returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost importance!"

"Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!" said a loud voice, and Slughorn appeared at Professor Trelawney's other side, his face very red, his velvet hat a little askew, a glass of mead in one hand and an enormous mince pie in the other. "But I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions!" Slughorn said, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. "Instinctive, you know—like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill—why even Severus—"

And to Harry's horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.

"Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!" Slughorn hiccupped happily. "Look! Two of your best students right here! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught Harry for five years!"

"Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all."

"Well, then it's natural ability!" Slughorn shouted. "You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death—never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus—"

"Really?" Snape said quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a certain disquiet. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions.

"I've been helping him," Draco interrupted, making the professors' attention turn to him.

"Oh really?" Slughorn asked, "even before Harry's first lesson?"

"No," Draco said. "I've started helping him a couple of weeks into the year. … Simple stuff, you know."

"Well then, that must have only helped Harry's natural ability!" Slughorn smiled. "You're a good man … Duncan?"

"Draco."

"Yes well, remind me again what subjects you're taking Harry?" Slughorn asked, completely ignoring Draco.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology…"

"All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror," Snape said, with the faintest sneer.

"Yeah, well, that's what I'd like to do," Harry said defiantly.

"Really?" Draco asked. "Never knew that."

"I didn't tell you that?" Harry asked, temporarily forgetting the professor's presence. It was easy to forget everyone around him when Draco was around.

"No," Draco said. "Anything else you're hiding from me Harry?"

Harry giggled and shook his head, "No, just that I want to be an Auror."

"And a great one you'll make too!" Slughorn boomed.

Again Harry ignored the professors and asked, "And what are you studying for Knife-ears?"

"Still calling me that Potter?" Draco asked.

"Of course. Now tell me, I told you my aspiration, now you have to tell me yours. That's how it works, doesn't it?" Harry smirked behind his glass of mead.

Draco smirked and shook his head. "You mean you couldn't guess Potter?" Draco asked. "Not only am I going to inherit the Malfoy fortune, including our thousand year old apothecary and superior wine production, but unlike my lazy father and grandfather I will rule Britain."

"So Minister of Magic," Harry said. "Seems right for huge ego like you Knife-Ears," Harry chuckled.

Draco snickered and shook his head, "Sure, let's go with that. Remember Harry, Dragons are very possessive and territorial creatures…" he hissed at Harry.

"And what? England is your territory?"

"Exactly," Draco smirked. Harry just shook his head, surprised to see that the professors seemed to leave them to their own.

While that was happening, it should be nice to note that the Incubus known as Blaise Zabini decided to start making his claim on Neville Longbottom. He and Ron agreed that Ron shouldn't come to the party, after many hours of Blaise begging, and that they can try to look at their threesome relationship after Christmas break. Blaise also promised Ron that he would let Neville know immediately what is going on, for he didn't want Longbottom to be treated as unfairly as he was. So tonight seemed like a perfect night as both he and Neville arrived there without guests.

He found his cute mate nervously in a corner, glancing around as he talked with Ginny and Dean Thomas. He couldn't help but throw a glare at Thomas for his actions indirectly caused his mate's friend grief. "Hello Neville," he smiled as he stopped next to them.

Thomas and Ginny glared at Blaise. "What do you want Zabini?" Ginny asked.

"Relax, relax," Blaise smiled, his eyes locking with Dean Thomas's as he decided to play with Thomas's hormones. He faked a stretch as he gently released his ability, hiding a smirk when he saw both his precious mate and Thomas blush. Thomas's eyes seemed to move from Ginny and directly towards Blaise, his gaze following the lean, defined muscles that Blaise naturally showed off under his clothing, and a budge hidden artfully in his robes. Blaise smirked as a sweat started to appear on Dean's face, a flush showing through his dark skin as he continued to stare lustfully at Blaise. Ginny was unaware to all of this, just glaring at the Slytherin as he looked at Neville.

His poor mate was in a state of embarrassment, a tent starting to appear in his pants. "Come on Neville, I want to talk with you," Blaise purred to the round-faced boy.

"Y-you do?" Neville stuttered, looking at Ginny for a moment.

"Yes," Blaise smiled, his eyes glancing down discreetly to see that Thomas had a similar, if larger, problem than Neville had. Thomas noticed Blaise's looking and bit his lip. Blaise just winked at him, which caused the Gryffindor to run out of the party.

With him gone, Blaise pulled back on his influence to just enough to get Neville over his shyness. "What was that about?" Neville asked, relieved to have the strange perverted sensation leaving him.

"No idea…" Ginny muttered. "I'm going to find Harry and Hermione to say hi before going after him."

Blaise smiled as he found himself alone with Neville. "Weird, anyway I'm glad we're alone Neville," Blaise said.

"W-Why is that?" Neville asked.

"Because you're beautiful," Blaise said.

"No I'm not," Neville said, shaking his head. "I'm chubby, I'm nowhere as good looking as Harry, Ron, Seamus, or Dean. I'm—"

"A very cute, very interesting Gryffindor that I want to know more about," Blaise said, his fingers gliding across Neville's smooth cheeks. He smiled as Neville blushed. "A beautiful baby."

"Wait a minute," Neville said, taking a step back. What about Ron!? You're with Ron! This is wrong, we can't—"

"Shh, hush baby, don't you feel it?" Blaise whispered, his hand never leaving Neville's cheek. "The connection between us? The connection between you and Ron? This is how it's supposed to be. You're our beautiful baby lion Neville."

"Wha—"

"Don't talk Neville, just feel," Blaise whispered as he took a step closer. "You are so beautiful Neville. You're going to make Ron and I so proud. … Our beautiful Baby."

Neville just blushed, his legs paralyzed as Blaise closed the distance between them. But instead of his lips like Neville was thinking, Blaise left a loving, soothing kiss on Neville's cheek. He smiled and wiped Neville's lips with his thumb. "I want Ron to be your first kiss. I want Ron to be your first everything. We're going to fall in love together Neville, but when the time comes, I want Ron to make love with our Baby first. You're ours, and we will always love you Neville. Remember that."

And with that, Blaise left Neville, smiling at himself as he left his precious mate in a confused, sexuality frustrated state. He knew that Ron and Neville would be perfect for each other. Ron will grow more confidently into his role, and Neville will be their loving submissive. All they need was time.

A/N: This took awhile. Sorry bout that

Kichou: Yeah they are being jerks, aren't they? Well, at least now something is bound to happen right?

NightWish234: Well, Harry won. But what will he make Draco do? Who knows! Just know that this is rated M for Mature.

Alinefgs: Oh I hope Google translate is correct on this! Umm yes, Blaise needs to win the hearts of his two mates… don't know why there's an ogre in the review. But thank you very much for reading this fic! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.

Serenityselena: They are, aren't they?

David-El: Yes, silly Harry trying to think that "mate" only means best friends. And good for Draco for telling Harry. Now he'll just have to tell him he's the boy in Harry's dreams. Oh of course that's going to come back!

Kigen Dawn: It's called Drama my friend, that and thinking without a lustful need for your boyfriend's immense dick. And yes, everything is a win-win for you, isn't it? Should I remedy that?

Super MKatR: Good!

Mysticalgems: Then say all you want! Who cares about class? Except if it's an English class, if so then pay attention. But any other class… meh.

Yuutakeiamz: aww I thought you were talking about me :P But yes, they are. Very good looking.

Ern: This chapter! That's when

Hime: How will a dragon and human have sex? The answer is very easy. Very carefully. But the more concerning question you should be wondering is: Will I SHOW you the mating between Harry and Dragon?

Sasuhinasfan: Yeah a lot did happen last chapter, didn't it? And who knows, maybe Seamus and Dean will make up to Draco and Harry (read audience)

Littlesprout: Well… Harry does know Ron longer and better than Seamus.

Jokul Frosti: Are they?

Scaranpannior: Uhhh will a chill pill help?

AnnaMerteuil: But are they "together"?

floophoenixLing: That's the lesson of the day kids. Cheating, is bad. Except for video games where it's good!

Lunacorn: Well maybe now that their argument seems to be mostly done.

Themysteriousdude321: nah

Guest: I'm happy that you're happy, but that's rude.