Standing outside the door to the hospital wing stood a very nervous, scared and only a little curious green-eyed boy. Beyond those doors stood his doom. His victim. His possible owner. His enemy, who HE accidentally gave more power too. After a few deep breaths, he opened the door to reveal the biggest temper tantrum witnessed since his days with those god awful muggles.

A stunning blond girl, around 5'8, wearing only an oversized, button down, slytherin shirt (which thankfully or not covered only to her very upper thighs) was throwing a tray of food across the room at the far wall. The ingredients scattered as the stout and elderly woman Harry knew as Madam Pomfrey stood back up from her crouched position on the floor to give a somewhat scared look to her model-like patient before running into her office to hide.

The walls still echoing the sound of shattering metal, the blond turned to Harry and sneered with complete and utter hatred. And Harry's heart filled with love and want so fast he fell to his knees in adoration.

"What are YOU doing here, Scarhead? Come to point and gloat have you? Or are you just saying goodbye on your way to your expulsion?"

The words were lost on the kneeling boy as he felt a wave of gratitude. She spoke to him! She even had a nickname for him! Scarhead! Oh, what wonderful words of poetry! He would simply have to prove his worth!

Malfoy stood above him, towering down with utmost contempt as Harry debased himself for her approval, muttering love vows,

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! I'm rich you know! Very, very rich! And famous too! Quite skilled on a broom, even if I do say so myself! I'd give you all the money and beautiful things you so obviously deserve! Just give a chance sweet angel!"

Harry's pleading eyes looked up into cold grey ones that slowly melted, as a smirk replaced that wonderful sneer. The Potter boy had to use all his willpower to refrain from jumping her then and there.

"Oh yes?" The goddess of light queried,

"I didn't even think of this, Scarhead! What a powerful bloody spell you used! No glamour would turn you into some blubbering fool! (Although I would argue that you were one to start with.) You changed my DNA! Tell me, Potts, what would you do for me? Anything I ask?"

Harry was flooded with relief and glee! She thought he was powerful! He couldn't quite remember what for. His memories were, after all, fuzzy when compared to this beauty. This goddess of glory! But he would not disappoint her! He quickly answered her in the affirmative,

"Anything my love! Anything for you!"

Nodding his head like mad, Harry watched this divine creature tilt her head to the side. Curiosity marked her features in the most elegant manner Harry had ever witnessed.

"I don't believe you, Scarhead. I think you're just trying to get up my skirt."

She then lifted her shirt just a fraction to emphasise her point and smooth milky thighs were exposed right at Harry's eye level. If she would only lift it 2 or 3 centimetres more, he would see EVERYTING! He started to salivate but somehow managed to stammer out,

"NO! Anything you want! I'll prove it! Anything for you!"

She dropped her shirt back down and the boy was tempted to shuffle forward and move it up himself. Surely there was no reason to keep it down except to tease and taunt him?

His goddess seemed to consider this in an entirely gorgeous and overly dramatic way.

"Alright, Potts. I'll let you prove it. I want your wand. Hand it over!"

Harry considered it. He loved this woman. There was no doubt in his mind. But this was a request he wasn't sure about. His wand was very important to him. A little voice in the back of his head was screaming something he couldn't hear and was confusing him. What was he supposed to do? Draco saw this inner battle played out on Potter's face and crouched down in front of him, giving the boy a perfect and level view of his eyes. Although the green-eyed boy seemed to be looking about a foot lower to the unsupported breasts. Draco reached out and lifted Harry's chin, smiling as seductively as she could, although realistically it wasn't needed. Purring into Harry ear,

"If you give me your wand, Scarhead, I'll put it somewhere VERY interesting. I promise."

She stood back up and the boy fell over himself trying to get his wand out as quickly as humanly possible. He most definitely would like to see that! Maybe afterwards she'd let him put his other wand there too?

Handing his Queen his wand, Harry watched expectantly as Draco lifted it high and placed a hand at either end. He wasn't sure how she would put his wand there while standing up and holding it so high. But there was a lot about the female anatomy he didn't know. He would just have to trust her judgement.

Draco smirked gleefully with the wand in her hand. One little snap and perhaps Voldermort would finally be able to kill the little runt. But mere seconds before she was going to apply the pressure, the door to the infirmary opened and her godfather stormed in, looking flushed and sneering when he spotted the kneeling form of the wizarding world's saviour.

"Draco dear, you really shouldn't do that. The Headmaster would be quite mad and may take back his offer."

Draco stared at her only remaining blood relative not in prison. Second cousins or some such thing. She gave a small thank you to the gods that relatives were immune to her charms because incest was just a little to much right now, before her thoughts returned to that statement. Holding the wand in one arm by her side she queried,

"What offer?"

The Professor raised a brow at this and turned a hate-filled gaze to Harry who was eyeing him suspiciously like a potential threat. Snape's lip curled further at the audacity of it and sneered down at him,

"You haven't told her, Potter? Honestly, did you think I wouldn't make sure she knew? And get up of the bloody floor, boy. You're making an arse of yourself!"

Turning back to his god. daughter? Snape raised a hand to Draco and was rewarded with the wand. Harry did not stand up, but instead silently fumed that that greasy git got to touch something that was being touched by his lovely. The professor ignored his pointed looks and returned his attention to Draco,

"I think I should keep this for now. He will be no doubt angry after you've marked him and this lunacy wears off. Dumbledore sends you a bodyguard with his kindest regards."

Draco was stunned. She owned the Boy-Who-Lived? That was brilliant! She was going to ask what made everyone think this runty little Griffin-dog could protect her, before she realised he was powerful enough to create this mess. If nothing else, he deserved to spend forever trying to make her life a little easier. Malfoys have always been superior to Potters.

She looked back up at her godfather.

"Alright then, I'll take him! Sit down already, I'm gonna have some fun first."

With that she turned her eyes back to the Potter boy, who was filled with relief at having her attention again. He mustn't waver or pause before obeying her again. That was entirely too close. If she left him he would kill himself! He HAD to be loved by this divine creature. She spoke in the voice of an angel,

"So, Scarhead. What do you think of that Weasel? What about the Mudblood, too? And remember, Scarhead, I don't like them at all!"

Trying to remember the reasons why his lovely disliked his lowly friends, Harry responded as fast as he could so as not to displease her,

"I hate the Weasel. All of them actually. Stinking, filthy poor they are! Absolutely no good! And the Mudblood! Why, she's nothing but a know-it-all with her head stuck up her arse. Your infinitely better then either of them! It doesn't even compare, my sweet. They dirty your tongue when you speak their names! Too low for you to notice!"

That ought to do it! Any moment now, Harry was sure this beauty would tell him that was the perfect answer, rip off that shirt and lay herself down for the taking. She simply had to, because if he got any harder he would explode. He looked up for confirmation and saw the divinely giggling face of the Malfoy girl. So beautiful! So great!

She calmed herself and smiled down at him.

"Oh, alright! I guess you've been a good boy. And I don't really like that look you're giving me. Unnerving, actually. Come over here and I'll fix you up."

Harry was sure that was the invitation! He scrambled to his feet and made for her. One hand went to her thigh and he was about to lift the shirt when a pale and perfect hand stopped him. He looked up to her annoyed eyes, confused. That had been an invite, hadn't it? What did she think she was doing? Playing with him? She couldn't promise and then just take it back! He deserved this!

The insane look in Potter's eyes was quite unnerving and Draco was reminded why his mother never left the house without extensive covering spells. Spells, which were considered Dark Arts, that he couldn't reproduce in a place like this. She smiled reassuringly at Harry, just a little worried.

Harry would not be able to force himself on her, but she wasn't sure how the Headmaster would react if she had to eat him whole. She leaned into his neck and whispered into his ear,

"Just a minute, love. I want to give you a love bite first. OK?"

Relief flooded the boy and he nodded just a little. So close to her, her hair was sweeping by his nose. She smelled of strawberries and the flavour red. She smelled of lollies and dreams. Draco leaned in further and extended her teeth. Two inch canines, meant to be quite painful, sank into his flesh.

Harry let out a yelp and raised his arms to her shoulders. She was his height, so it was rather easy to lean into her without toppling over. A searing pain throbbed through his neck and his brain was slowly focusing, a fog of uncertain memories and emotions swimming back to the fore. Draco Malfoy, his hated enemy, was biting him. Had made him befoul his friends' names. Had nearly broken his wand. Had nearly made him rape her in his pure unadulterated need to feel that a milky flesh. When she pulled away the only nice thought still in his mind was that she really did smell of red things and dreams.

Harry pushed her away and raised a hand to his lightly bleeding neck as Snape called madam Pomfrey back from her office to heal his wound. And all Harry could think was: that bitch bit him!