Draco watched lazily as the Gryffindor team woefully and doggedly continued flying in the pelting hail. It was rather amusing watching those speedy little scarlet blurs as they were buffeted about mercilessly by the skinning wind. The hail pattered loudly on the canvas gazebo above the stands. Granger sat a few seats down from him; she squinted through a pair of huge omnioculars as Weasley took over the hoops, circling them possessively as McLaggen landed. Draco could tell from how the idiot's chest swelled that he was pleased with his try out- save his last; he had suddenly let a Quaffle in. Draco had a shrewd feeling it had something to do with a little 'confusion' that had come from Granger's general direction.

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned to stare down his neat straight nose haughtily at the muggle born girl. He watched as she fiddled with a brown lock of curly hair.

"Can I help you Granger?"

"Err…"

Draco could see she was a bit intimidated, raising a perfect eyebrow he waited for her to continue.

"Why are you here?"

She blurted out, her cheeks were reddened from the cold and she clutched the omnioculars to her chest- she looked rather suspicious of him. Draco shrugged- he needed some air, even if it was rather foul out- (and to spy on Harry Potter and his rather nice arse) however the know-it-all didn't need to know that. He instead gave her a sweet smile; she narrowed her eyes further in response.

"Inter house unity, isn't that something we students at Hogwarts must strive for? Hm Granger?"

"Bullshit. Malfoy tell me the real reason. I know you're up to something, you don't just show up for nothing."

Draco sat back in his seat and crossed his arms; he could feel a small petulant pout of irritation crossing his features.

"Now, really! First Potter, now his muggle girlfriend! You two seem oh so hell bent on becoming Aurors- yet you both come down to the same conclusion that I am forever up to no good!"

The blonde blustered, indignantly, slightly jealous- trying to keep the unbecoming whine in his voice (Malfoys do NOT ever whine or beg) - he stared down at the clever witch with disdain. She pursed her lips- looking remarkably like Weasley's mother.

"I am NOT Harry's girlfriend- grow up would you, that joke is OLD! He's just my best friend and nothing else! Merlin you are such a bloody pillock Draco Malfoy! Besides we've NEVER seen you do a single good thing in our lifetime of knowing you."

Draco tutted – no he was not jealous, not interested in the half vampire's love life at all-, he clucked his tongue again, further incensing the brunette girl- of course he knew Potter didn't have a girlfriend- anyway the Golden Boy could do SO much better than Granger. He heaved an exaggerated sigh and crossed his legs. He could see her slowly reaching towards her wand.

"And here I was trying to be a commoner. Looks like I'll have to resort to my usual nickname for you- Mudblood, seeing as you prefer my hostility rather than my attempts at civilised conversation- not that your kind deserve it of course."

Hermione's expression was incredibly stony and Draco thought it very normal to feel a little endangered if not somewhat smug. Well that was rather cruel. Shrugging the idea off Draco mused over how on earth he started having actual feelings- especially ones that contradicted themselves- he was Slytherin's Ice Prince for Merlin's sake! He didn't have time to worry about those lesser plebeians, he couldn't care less if Longbottom missed class to save a drowning kitten!

Wait. Actually- Draco paused in his thoughts- he would DEFINITLY save a drowning kitten- no matter what. Draco had never told anyone this but it was his deepest desire to have a pet kitten- his father would never allow it; his mother was allergic to cats. Turning back to the situation at hand the Slytherin painted his expression into his all time favourite- the infamous suave sneer.

"Why even bother attempt civil conversation with a 'mudblood'? I thought we weren't worth your time. I thought we were lower than scum- brainless, stupid and unworthy to study magic- not even good enough to lick the boots of you purebloods."

Draco was impressed with the amount of venom that was currently lacing her voice- quietly the blonde knew if she had been different she would've made a fantastically cruel Slytherin- but she was a muggle therefore that was neither here nor there; judging by the thunderous scowl on her face, that would put Snape's to shame. Stretching luxuriously Draco decided to ponder on his reply; he cast his mind about looking for the right thing to say.

"You're right naturally- as usual. Of course you aren't fit enough to lick the dirt in which we stand on. But that is rather irrelevant to our previous topic of proverbial banter."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something back but she quickly turned back at the sound of cheering and raised the magnifying contraption up to her eyes. She squealed happily. Draco took a fleeting glance at the pitch to see the Weasel save another goal- albeit sloppily.

"I don't see how Gryffindor are ever going to win this year. This is pathetic."

Draco mused aloud, his customary drawl back in place, Granger whipped round to eyeball him fiercely. And Draco was distinctly reminded of the time she had punched him rather viciously. He shifted a few seats away from her slowly boiling anger.

"I must not tell lies."

He grinned and held his hands up in mock defence at the horrified and startled expression on her face- oh yes; he knew all about Dolores Umbridge's little torture sessions she would bestow upon the Golden boy. It had been rather barbaric in his opinion, but since it had been Harry… Who looked just fabulous in Quidditch robes in the way they clung to his body- which by the way had turned out very well; due to the physically demanding changes a human-vampire transformation required. Even from here he could see the Chosen One's enhanced features. Though Harry still looked the same, his face was just a little sharper and just little more like someone had gone in with a paint brush and corrected some of his features- his nose was a bit straighter, his lips fuller and his skin-

Shit.

Draco cursed and stood up hurriedly, absently noting the hail had ceased. He was doing it again- furiously Draco cast a glance over to the pitch- it seemed as if try outs were over judging by the way the team were gambolling round. Ignoring the curious look on the muggle girl's face he pushed past her and dashed off trying to clear his confused thoughts.

Oh fuck.

Draco stopped under the stands to watch the remainder of the new Gryffindor team to finish their aerobatics. He took deep breaths to calm his hammering heart, the lion team were cheerful, despite each looking rather filthy due to weather. He was NOT attracted to Harry bloody Potter. No way was the sodding Golden Boy unconsciously seducing him. Malfoys do not get seduced- they are the ones who are the seducers, they are the ones who turn their prey into quivering love stricken messes. Not that it was the other way round- he was merely OBSERVING the changes in Potter- yes that was it. He wasn't attracted at all; he was merely curious about the half vampire and human- he wanted to get to know his enemy.

Yes.

He wanted to get to know the enemy.

'In what way?'

A cynical little voice- the voice of reason yet infinite annoyance piped up- most irritatingly- the back of his clouded mind. The Slytherin rubbed his temples, really- know the enemy? He wanted to watch Potter's every move- so he could use them against the boy-who-lived. He didn't want to become the hunted. He let out a gusty sigh, resigned he felt the package in his pocket. He was going to do it today…

'Later.'

He told himself, the dark mark burned- simmering, Draco like always ignored it. He thought himself somewhat of a masochist when it came to the dark tattoo. The pain was always there, dark- dare he say delicious- (which was plain wrong considering it was a nose-less snake faced bastard on the operating end.) and throbbing like a pulsating wound. He watched from his low rise spot under the stands- The Gryffindor team- proud in their scarlet and gold had all landed and were talking animatedly. Their captain looked specifically enamoured with his success. Draco found the flushed expression endearing on the Golden Boy's- once plain/good looks turned handsome- features.

Handsome?

Cursing colourfully- a string of fluent swears that if his father heard; would cause his hair to go white with shock- (not that it needed it) Draco sat down heavily- splashing into a rather deep and large puddle, uncaring for the first time in a long while, if his robes got muddy. He closed his eyes and eased out a shaky breath as it clouded in the cold air before him. He stayed like that for a while before he realised that he would now need a shower. And a clean set of clothes.

Grumbling lightly the blonde picked himself up and cleaned up as best as he could with a scouring charm- he had to at least look presentably dirty- yes fashionably dirty; there was significant differences between looking like a hooligan ragamuffin and stylishly mud splattered. The ice prince tried another spell, however cleaning charms had never been the Slytherin's forte; cursing Draco decided to go to the Quidditch changing room for a shower.

Harry grinned at his new team, with some practice, they could definitely be winners. Ron was ecstatic as he helped his best friend round up the last bludger and force it back into the trunk. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw McLaggen slouch off looking rather ugly- he had been so sure he was going to get the place. Fat chance, Harry snorted with derisive contempt, as if he would let the lout of a boy take over HIS team, Ron was a far better choice- he just needed some confidence. Hermione ran over to them, beaming, she threw her arms round Ron and hugged him; Ron's ears turned red and he smiled goofily.

"Well done Ron!"

Harry frowned and then raised an eyebrow in amusement at his bushy haired friend, connecting the swish of magic that had fluttered from her direction and McLaggen's sudden forgetfulness. Hermione caught his gaze and blushed and looked away. Ron eased her off, muttering about getting changed and a shower- Harry readily agreed, seeing as they were both spattered with quite a lot of mud.

"I'll see you both back up at the common room before dinner then!"

She replied brightly and carefully made her way back up to the castle, minding the large puddles of mud from the melting ice shower. Ron looked after her, his gaze fond as he watched her go.

Harry sighed as he stepped under the hot spray of water to wash off the soap, the strong hiss of the shower soothing his frayed emotions from the try outs; he rolled his shoulders and relaxed in contentment. He heard Ron in the stall next to him finish up- Harry liked to take long showers- a luxury he rarely if not ever had at the Dursleys'. Mumbling a 'goodbye' to his friend Harry concentrated on lathering up his hair.

Humming as he heard the Weasley leave the changing room, Harry toed the bar of soap- mint and pine scented. He went over the day; it had been alright; at least his marks in lessons had started to come back up due to pre-Quidditch excitement, fuelling him to do well in everything that he did. Harry was broken out of his reverie of fairly ignorant bliss by a rather malevolent growl of a voice and a suspicious thud. Washing out stray suds Harry strained his ears.

Frowning, the Chosen one slipped out of his shower, only just remembering to turn off the constant heavenly stream of hot water. Towelling down quickly he pulled on a pair of clean boxers and went to the other side of the spacious room to investigate.

Draco had been happily stripping for his shower- he flung his shirt away from him in disgust, covered in mud it was- when a low voice filled with venom hissed out a spell; a rather nasty stunning hex hit him squarely in the back. He collapsed with a silent cry; Draco glowered up at his attacker. He should've known, but how the fuck did that huge thug of a boy sneak up behind him anyway? Draco rolled his eyes- he had let this happen, because he had been foolish enough to be distracted by Potter- (such a brilliant time for gay fantasies too) as a large hand cupped his chin, forcing his pliable and stunned body- manipulating it like putty to look up into that cocky smirking face.

"Ferret."

Draco if he could, would've raised an eyebrow, however he opted for another roll of the eyes. He flinched inwardly as a fist collided non-too gently with his ribs. He made no sound- he wouldn't show weakness to the coward who snuck up behind him. This certainly irked his adversary. Draco concentrated upon his wand, trying to summon it with his raw natural magic. The hand slowly beginning to 'man handle' him was a bit distracting, Draco attempted to move. He failed as his body refused to obey him; his legs were useless from the hex.

"Well because you have such a pretty body, maybe I'll just use you for something else."

The Slytherin Prince shuddered privately and swore that through the powerful hex; his body had too, at little at the perverse tone, he growled quietly, but cut off as another swift punch caught him in the gut. Draco mentally groaned, wondering why he made so many enemies- well this one was worth it. Worth it because he had been antagonising Potter- and only he Draco Malfoy himself was worthy enough of the Gryffindor's anger, hatred and more importantly- his interest. Draco sighed and tried to imagine another hand as it crept down towards his more private areas- teasing the zip of his neatly pressed trousers.

Help me.