Hello world! I don't think that author's notes should go at the end of the story - takes away from the chapter end, if you know what I mean. Sorry this chapter took so long - writers block, you know. Anyway, a big thank you to all my reviewers, especially those who added me to their favorite authors or favorite stories lists! I love you! And thanks to all the people I RP with for supporting my writing.

I should also say that the disclaimer below is the one that Fiction Alley ( ) uses on all fics. It's a good disclaimer and since I have works there, thought I'd use it here too!

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Enjoy Chapter Two!

Play for Keeps Chapter Two: Something To Talk About ------------------------

The bed in Gryffindor tower seemed colder as Harry settled down onto his own sheets, sighing quietly to himself through the silence of the room. It was a think silence, as all his dorm mates were asleep. Even the heavy snoring Neville had found a position for his head so that sounds of steam engines were not pouring out, keeping Harry and the others awake. And, for once, Dean and Seamus had found peace, probably piled on top of each other in either of their beds. Thick as it was, though, Harry found the silence quite calming, as he closed his eyes and tried to find some peace, not noticing the pile of books he was laying beside.

But, there would be no rest for Harry that night. He didn't know why himself, and quite thought he was going mad, but he could not seem to shake Draco from his thoughts. And, as always when he thought of Malfoy, a horrid pain filled his abdomen. It wasn't a painful feeling, really, but more of an ache of some sort – similar, he thought, to the buzz his scar felt when Voldemort was near.

Rolling over, Harry pulled his covers to envelop his entire body. As Harry's mind wondered, he tallied in his mind that it had been his seventh night with Draco, meaning that nearly two months had passed, meaning that it was nearly mid-November.

He had noticed that the time had passes, of course, it has just been slower. The mass amounts of homework he and his friends had been assigned by various teachers, a few detentions from Snape, and Quidditch were typically enough to keep Harry occupied through the whole year. But now, time seemed to slowly drip by, dragging on and on. And, Harry knew very well why. Spending one night a week with Draco had, perhaps, forced his own sexual drive into high gear.

Perhaps.

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"Move over."

"Malfoy. . . I'm too tired . . ."

"Harry, move over!"

"No. . ."

"Harry get up! You're laying on my Herbology book!"

"What?" Harry asked, peeking out from under his sheets. When his just awakened eyes fell upon his best friend, Harry sighed and pulled the covers back over his head.

"Come on," Ron said, smiling and trying to remove the sheets from over Harry, "you're fighting a losing battle, mate."

Harry only groaned and buried his face in his pillows. He was in no mood to get up, let alone go to class. But, he knew Ron was right - it was still early in the year and skipping class was certainly not a good idea yet.

As they came into the Great Hall, the trio sat in a row as always, and Ron quickly noted that the bacon was cold. Not that Harry cared, of course. He was in no mood to eat - in no mood to do anything, really. Every morning after he had been with Draco he was like this, sort of wearisome in manner. The first few times, it had given Hermione quite the scare. She had said that Harry looked 'as though he'd been dragged through hell and tortured.' Though that wasn't the quite how it was, Harry was exhausted anyway.

"Harry, eat something," Hermione pleaded dangling a slice of dry toast in Harry's face.

The gesture only proved to make Harry more aggravated and, quickly waving his hand in front of his face, he knocked the piece of toast from Hermione's hand. It skidded across the table and came to rest next to Neville's goblet. Ron was surprised that with Neville's luck the goblet hadn't tipped over and spilt on the unlucky boy. Though it was unlikely that a piece of toast could knock over a goblet, in Neville's case it seemed possible to Ron.

"I'm not really hungry," Harry said, looking from Hermione, who was trying to slip a piece of toast onto his plate, to Ron, who was busy eating more bacon than Harry thought could be healthy.

"Potter!"

All the students seated at Gryffindor table looked up as soon as the cold, forceful voice ran through the air. Harry just turned around and, lifting his eyes to Draco's, sighed quietly. They had agreed early on that no matter what happened between them, outside of the bedroom things would still be as they had been. Draco would torment Harry and Harry would retaliate as normal. It really wasn't hard, as Draco still infuriated Harry with the right glare or insult to Ron or Hermione. To Harry, nothing had changed. Nothing was an act. He still hated Draco, and was only sleeping with him as he had no choice than to.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, standing up, arms crossed, and narrowing his eyes at the blonde.

Draco laughed slightly and took a half step closer to Harry. "That wasn't your attitude last night," he purred, running a hand through Harry's dark hair.

Quickly stepping back and swatting Draco's hand away, Harry scowled at the Slytherin. "Keep your hands off me, Malfoy!" Harry said sharply as Ron and Hermione quickly flanked Harry's sides.

"Oh, look!" Draco said quickly, grinning through the shock of Harry standing up to him, "Saint Potter is rescued by his faithful knight and. . . what was it dear?" he asked sarcastically, his voice cold and cruel as he leant slightly toward Hermione, "Queen side castle?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger and then confusion, as her hand quickly came in contact with Draco's pale, delicate cheek. It was only lucky for Draco that Snape had been making his rounds through the Great Hall and promptly turned Hermione to face him, holding her shoulders tightly, as soon as the loud crack of Draco's jaw dislocating had stilled.

"Miss Granger!" Snape said, his eyes bulging and a vein in his neck pulsing. Through Draco's loose jaw, Harry could tell he was grinning though he was in pain. "Physical assault of another student is not to be taken lightly!" the greasy professor continued loudly. Several people in the Great Hall hard turned their heads or moved their seats to better see the cause of the commotion, white Ron had found a hiding spot behind Harry. "I'll expect to see you in my office for detention tonight." His words were firm, and he left no place for anyone to dare contest his ruling. And after giving Hermione's shoulders one threatening squeeze, he pushed past Harry and Ron before taking hold of Malfoy the same way he had held Hermione, but obviously not to yell at him.

As Snape escorted Draco from the Great Hall, and presumably to the Hospital Wing, Ron sighed and, stepping out from behind Harry, flopped down into his seat again. "Well," he said quietly, "that'll give them something to talk about, won't it?"

Hermione, who had occupied herself by rubbing her left shoulder, nodded in agreement. "I won't know what came over me," she said in a near whisper. "Detention. . ." Harry and Ron exchanged sideways looks as Hermione began mumbling to no one about her recently acquired disciplinary obligation.

What puzzled Harry more so even that Draco approaching him and blatantly showing affection with so many around, was how he knew what positions Ron and Hermione had been in back in first year when they went after who they thought was Snape and the Philosopher's Stone.

He would have to wait to ask.

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Potions had started out simple enough, as it always did. But, it would never stay that way. Something always had to happen in Snape's class. Weather Neville melted a cauldron or Seamus adds the wrong sort of dried wings resulting in an enormous explosion, something would happen.

Or perhaps not.

Though being paired with Draco was inevitable for Harry, he had become used to the idea and ceased complaining about it no matter how much he wanted to work with Ron - who always had the pleasure of working with Crabbe or Goyle.

Draco and Harry had not exchanged words (aside from the occasional "It says twelve, not twenty-one, blind boy" and "Stir clockwise, boy genius.") Though through Draco's insults and constant nagging, Harry managed to keep his concentration on the potion they were trying to brew. Regardless of the fact that their potion was drifting between lilac and purplish-red, Harry figured that they - he - was doing a decent job with it.

"Malfoy," Harry said as he was stirring the potion fifteen times clockwise, "I need to ask you something."

Draco, who had been leaning back in his seat, feet propped up on the table lifted one eyelid in response. "Yes, Potter?" he asked in his typical condescending tone.

"How did you know about the chess game in first year?" Harry asked, trying to keep count of his stirs while taking.

"Oh," Draco said flatly, "Well you see, in the beginning of second year, Crabbe and Goyle told me - as it takes them both to tell a simple story - that Pansy heard it from Millicent who had overheard the Mudblood telling that Patil girl about it in Care of Magical Creatures."

Harry sat half stunned by Draco's recollection of the line the gossip had moves down as Draco spoke. "Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "Malfoy, I didn't know you were such a gossip!" he said in a mock-shock tone.

"Well," Draco said, sitting forward and sighing, "There is a lot you don't know about me, Potter." The grin that crossed his lips was different than the normal one he sported, or so Harry though, and it caught his attention. So he sat, mesmerized, staring at Draco's smile and he thought he saw Draco look at him from the corner of his eye, until…

"Potter! Stir faster before you ruin it!"