Chapter Five: Crazy Feeling

Warnings: Naughty language, the words 'fag' and 'queer' about a zillion times, and budding homosexual relationships between our two favorite hot boys from Hogwarts (awwww)

Author's Notes: This chapter was really hard for me to write for some reason. I kept wondering if these characters would really do what I was writing them doing in the chapter if this were real life. In the end, I had to realize that this is a story, and stories dramatize real life, so it doesn't have to be the kind of thing that happens everyday. It's the sort of thing that we wish would happen in everyday life (you'll see why...*evil grin*), but sadly often doesn't. So in the end, I hope this is both believable and fantastic. And most of all, I hope you enjoy...

Draco swept into Snape's room, purposely knocking a pile of books off of the coffee table. When Snape didn't come storming out of the other room to find out why Draco had broken in, he knew that his friend was really gone.

He was alone.

Draco went back to the door and shut it. He thought he heard a scrambling noise as he did so, and felt something brush against his leg. He shivered, and looked around. Mice, probably. These dungeons had a reputation for being infested with the vermin.

Across the room, one of the chairs squeaked as if being pushed across the floor. Draco's head snapped over. Again, there was nothing there. He shook his head. He was being paranoid.

He paused briefly, not sure where to start. He decided on the most obvious place, and went over to Snape's desk. He opened the drawers, riffling through the spare bottles of ink, quills, and other stationary. The lower drawers were filled with parchment. It was mostly un-graded homework. As Draco flipped through the pages, he came upon Harry Potter's question and answer worksheet. Unable to resist, he paused to grab a quill and mark a few large, red X's through his answers. Then he gave Harry a very bad grade and smiled.

And he could have sworn he heard an outraged gasp behind him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, but he told himself he was being silly. He was obviously the only one in this room.

He set the papers back in the drawer and moved to the next. He went though the entire desk and found nothing. Of course, he wasn't really sure what he was looking for. But somehow he knew he hadn't found it yet. He went on through the rest of the living room, checking under the sofa, behind pillows, and going through all the books on the coffee table to make sure there was no secret note from Dumbledore or anything like that tucked inside the pages.

He went through the little kitchen and the bathroom. Nothing. That left one place- the last place Draco wanted to visit. It was one thing to go through Snape's desk, utensil drawer, and his toiletry basket, but to go through his bedroom was another thing all together. It was a personal place and Draco felt his was betraying his friend- just a little. But he reminded himself that this was Snape's own fault. After all, if he'd just told Draco what was going on, he wouldn't have to do this.

With that thought, he crept slowly into Snape's room. It was small and cold. The fireplace on the side of the room was out. Only one candle was lit, set up on the night stand next to Snape's black blanketed bed. Over the bed was a large tapestry depicting a bloody battle scene set in medieval times. A man would looked quite a bit like Snape, only with gray streaks through his hair and a slightly larger build was lopping the heads off of metal suited adversaries. Draco could only guess that it was some sort of family relic. When anyone would want that scene constantly playing over top of them while they were attempting to sleep, Draco didn't know. But then, Snape always had been a tad morbid.

Across the room, there was a clatter as a picture frame tumble off of Snape's wardrobe. Draco hurried over to pick it up, too concerned over the items safety to worry over what had caused it to fall. Thankfully, only the glass was cracked, and he quickly repaired it with his wand. As he took a closer look at the picture, a gasp escaped his throat.

It was a photo of Harry and him!

No, wait. It wasn't, he realized with a sigh. It was just a picture of Snape and his father, Lucius, as children at Hogwarts. Snape's hair was shorter in the picture, though he was fingering it nervously as if not sure about the cut. He seemed to be trying to pull a strand down to cover his nose- something he'd always been self-conscious about. His father, on the other hand, was the picture of confidence. He put his arm around Snape and puffed his chest out protectively. He looked a bit like a mother hen, standing over Snape and flashing a pompous smirk, an expression which Draco had learned to mirror at a very young age.

Funny, now that he looked at the photo, it looked nothing like Harry Potter and himself. He told himself that it had been the coloring of the two students, the dark and the light together, that had made him think so. But deep down, he wondered if it had been something else…

Shoving those thoughts out of his head, he forced himself to remember the task at hand. He opened the wardrobe, shoving Snape's collection of identical black robes and slacks aside. He dug through a stack of black sweaters, sticking his hand between each set of two. He fingers touched something hard and smooth in a rectangular shape. He grasped it and pulled it out.

It was a collection of scratchy gray parchment papers bound by a dark, snake scale cover. A journal.

Draco went and sat on Snape's bed and opened the book. A feeling of uneasiness spread over him as he scanned over the pages. He didn't quite understand what everything meant, but from what he could see, a series of potion recipes containing the same ingredients in different orders and amounts were scrawled over the pages. What disturbed him was his recognition of most of the ingredients. They were not ones he'd learned in school, but rather at home. The were ingredients that had dark properties. And there were lots of them.

He read on, flipping through the pages. The same ingredients over and over. On each page, written in blood red was the word 'Failed'. It seemed like Snape was trying to create a potion for which he had no directions. But why?

Then he came upon a page with a scrap of purple paper glued to it. It was typed, and appeared to have been ripped from a book.

Essence of Thestral's scale is often used in potions that weaken the magical system in some types of elves, goblins, and other smaller type magical creatures. In large doses, it had been known to completely rob a magical creature of all abilities. The creature is left confused, weakened, and almost powerless. Insanity often follows. Essence of Thestral's Scale is a type three banned substance.

Draco read it over and over, wondering what it meant. He'd never heard of anything like that. He flipped back through what he had read before and saw that Essence of Thestral's Scale was one of the main ingredients in all the variations of the potion Snape was working on. Snape was obviously making a substance that was very illegal. But Snape had said himself that he was working for Dumbledore.

Why would Dumbledore have Snape working on an illegal potion? And one that he didn't even know how to create? Was it possible they were trying to create some kind of new potion?

Draco suddenly felt something on his back. It felt like fingertips, icy cold ones laying right against his spin. He leapt up, dropping the journal. He looked about widely, but saw nothing. Still, he knew what he'd felt. He hadn't imagined it. Something was in here.

"Peeves? Is that you?" he asked. There was no answer. The room was still.

But he couldn't shake the feeling he had. He was now thoroughly creeped out. He wanted to leave now. He felt guilty enough as it was, and now he was hearing and feeling things.

"Hello? What's in here?" he said again.

His eyes scanned around the room. It looked as though he were alone, but felt otherwise. And he was sure he'd felt someone touch him. It hadn't felt like the touch of a ghost, either. Ghosts tended to feel like a thick, chilly fog. They left you with slight feeling of melancholy.

What touched him had definitely been solid, and felt distinctly like fingertips. And it hadn't left him feeling sad, it'd left him feeling…well scared. But sort of good too, in a strange way.

He looked over the room more carefully, searching for some tiny trace of what other being was there with him. He stepped closer to the bed, looking to the rumpled spot where he'd been sitting. Then his eyes slide back to directly behind where he'd been sitting. He's pulse sped up as he noticed that the bed was strangely indented. As if…

As if someone was sitting on it. Only, no one was there. Or were they…

On impulse, Draco leapt forward suddenly, tackling the indented spot in the bed. He collided with something very solid. The invisible being planted the palm of a hand between Draco's eyes. Draco roared and pounced again, grabbing at the air, catching two flailing limbs in his hands. He shoved them down to the bed, but was rocked up by the buckling body beneath him. He slide himself lower, pressing his knees together, squeezing the mysterious force below him between his thighs. Passing the two upper limbs into one hand, he used his other to skim along the being below him.

It was definitely a body. His fingers slide over a rib cage, feeling the bump of each bone, though he could see nothing. It looked like he was touching air, but he could feel his hand slide up the column of a throat, which gulped, and he felt the Adam's apple slide up and down. He cupped his fingers over the chin and moved upwards. He felt slightly flushed as he brushed over the unmistakable shape of parted lips. He touched a nose, felt the ridge of the nose piece of a pair of glasses.

Draco's heart beat faster. He closed his fist and he felt something thin and silky caught inside. It felt like he'd grabbed a handful of spiders webs. But it couldn't be that. Perplexed, he pulled more of the stuff away from the body, suddenly revealing something shinny and blue-black. Hair. Followed by pale skin, and an unmistakable zigzag scar. He pulled, tangling his hands in the cobweb fabric. He tore it down and away from what was below him.

Half a body was revealed beneath him. It was Harry Potter. He was sitting on top of Harry Potter.

"Fancy meeting you here," said Potter.

Harry had tried to be quiet. He'd grown so used to skulking about the school at night that he'd become a master of invisibility. But for some reason, trailing around the silk clad blonde boy, he's suddenly become klutzy and awkward.

He told himself it was not because of the fact that Malfoy was bare-chested, and he could see all of the lean muscle there, flexing beneath what Harry realized was truly flawless white skin. He also told himself it was not because of the range of tortured emotions Malfoy was displaying as he invaded Snape's dorm. It was obvious to Harry that Malfoy cared deeply about the man. It was stunning to see him show any sort of emotion at all. Up until that point, Harry had truly believed that Malfoy was void of feelings. But…he wasn't, Harry realized. It was fascinating.

Fascinating, but defiantly not attractive. No sir. Not in any way. Malfoy was still a hateful little bastard, and Harry would never in his life forgive Malfoy of the things he'd done to him.

Anyway, no matter what the cause, Harry had been tripping about and bumping things like a lumbering ox. He felt like a bull in a china store. He just couldn't manage being graceful. The worst was when he'd went to look at the picture on Snape's desk and completely knocked it over and broke it. Luckily, Malfoy has seemed too interested in who the picture was of to bother worrying about how it had fallen.

During the entire ordeal, Harry had been wondering just what Malfoy thought he was doing in the first place. He was obviously looking for something, but the journal he'd pulled from Snape's wardrobe was not what he'd been expecting. Intrigued, he'd followed Malfoy to the bed and attempted to read over his shoulder. And upon trying to scoot closer, his fingers had accidentally brushed Malfoy's back through the silky robe.

Somehow, Malfoy had realized there was something behind him. Now, as a result of his careless, he was laying on his back with the blonde boy pinning him down and his face revealed.

"Potter!" Malfoy yelled, outraged. "What in hell…"

"Invisibility cloak," Harry explained. He could feel Malfoy's heart beating against his chest. He struggled to remain impassive at the realization.

Malfoy appeared to be pondering that, so Harry made his move. Using all his strength, he tucked up his lower body, rolling his knees up and rocking them forward. He and Malfoy rolled over the bed, with Harry landing on top. The cloak fell over Mafoy, making him part invisible.

Malfoy immediately grabbed Harry's shoulder and rolled to the side. They fell off the bed and landed with a thump. Malfoy was straddling Harry, pushing him into the cold floor.

"What are you doing down here," Malfoy huffed.

Harry rolled them over again. "I saw you. I followed you."

Malfoy planted his hands on Harry's chest and shoved. When Harry didn't budge, he unexpectedly shoved his knee into Harry's groin. Harry howled with pain and tumbled away from Malfoy. Malfoy leapt up and pushed his robe open at one side. His wand was tucked into his waistband. Trust a Malfoy to always be ready with a curse.

He shouted a spell Harry had never heard before, but he would have bet his life was Dark magic. A jet of radiant yellow magic spurted from Malfoy's wand. Harry managed to rock to his feet in time to dodge it.

Malfoy aimed again, but missed. Harry dashed out of the room, pulling his cloak over him.

Malfoy came charging after him. Halfway through the living room, by sheer dumb luck Malfoy managed to get his foot on the corner of the cloak. Harry cried out in surprise as he pitched forward and fell to the floor.

Malfoy picked up the cloak and flung it away.

"Ha!" he said, and aimed.

Harry was digging up his pant leg, tugging at his socks. He whipped out his wand, which he always slept with…just in case, you know? He rolled onto his back and pointed it at Malfoy.

He cast a spell that would have magnified Malfoy's head to roughly the size of a pumpkin, but unfortunately it missed. Drat. The spell would have been perfect for the big-headed prat.

Malfoy looked surprised, but only momentarily. As Harry stood back up, Malfoy shot a series of curses at him. One hit him square in the face. Harry stumbled back, waving a hand franticly in front of himself.

"I can't see! You…you blinded me!" he screamed, horrified.

He heard Malfoy chuckle, and shuffle farther away. Probably heading toward the door. Blind or not, Harry was not letting him get away. Not before he got a hold of that journal anyway. From what he had seen of it, the contents looked highly illegal. Harry was sure Dumbledore would be interested and having a look at what Snape had hidden in his closet.

Harry charged forward, running smack into the back of the couch. He somersaulted over it and land on his ass on the floor, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He shouted a few spells and aimed wildly, hoping to hit Malfoy by pure good fortune.

"Geez, Potter, don't you ever give up?" Malfoy groaned.

Harry jumped to his feet, cocked his head and smiled. "Nope."

He ran towards the sound of Malfoy's voice, realizing with glee that his sight was coming back. The darkness in front of him faded to gray, and shapes became visible. So it was only temporary then. Not Dark magic after all. Hmm.

Harry saw a tallish shape scrambling towards a large, dark hole. He aimed his wand and fired a paralyzing spell.

"Arg! My arm," Malfoy yelped.

Harry sight was nearly back to normal. He saw Malfoy holding his limp arm, his wand lying on the floor. Bull's-eye!

Harry charged toward the wand, but just before he reached it, Malfoy bent over and headbutted him in the stomach. Harry fell to the floor.

"Ow! You crazy bastard!"

Malfoy grinned as if he'd been complimented. He shook off his lame hand and wiggled his fingers. Damn, it was wearing off too quickly! Malfoy reached down and grabbed his wand, then dashed through the doorway.

Harry stood up. "Oh no you don't!" he said, and ran back to gather up his cloak.

Holding it to his side, with his wand outstretched, he followed Malfoy out into the hallway. He was already scrambling up the stairs, his robe fluttering out like bat wings. The stairway lit up green and red as Harry shot more curses after him. They hit the mossy stone walls and exploded in sparks.

Harry ran up the stairs, taking then two at time. He caught up with Malfoy and tackled him from behind. The two crashed to the floor, with Malfoy in some what of a bear hug, Harry's arms locked around his hips. Harry flung him over, shoving him flat down onto the floor.

"What were you doing in Snape's room?" he demanded. "And why isn't Snape in there?"

"Snape is gone."

"Where?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Malfoy smirked.

"What in Snape's journal?"

Malfoy grinned wider.

Harry titled his head and sneered back, "Fine, I'll find out myself."

With that, Harry stuck his hands down Malfoy's pants. Malfoy's eyes bugged and his breath hitched. Harry came up with the snakeskin covered book. He stood up and jumped over Malfoy and raced down the hall.

"Potter! Give it back, you bloody little…" Draco stammered as he took off after the black haired punk.

He was right at Potter's tail, but Potter was giggling like mad, as if sure he was going to get away. Malfoy's heart was thumping like crazy, not just from the chase, but from the contact with Potter. His skin burned from where the boy had lain on him seconds before. Not to mention what had briefly happened in his nether regions when Potter had shoved his fingers down Malfoy's pajama bottoms.

No time to think about that now, though. He had to get the journal back. He had a feeling that whatever was in there wouldn't do to be passed around from person to person. Dark magic wasn't taken lightly in this school.

Without warning, Potter came to a complete halt. Draco charged right into him and fell back.

"Shit. Filch!" Potter mumbled, and began to struggle with the silver cape at his side.

Sure enough, Draco could hear foot steps pounding down the hall.

"Who's there?" came Filch's gravelly voice, "I hear ya! I've got you now!"

Mrs. Norris meowed happily. Around the corner, lantern light warmed the dark stone walls.

Draco looked to Potter, who gave him a triumphant grin.

"Sorry, Ferret. You're on your own," he said, and disappeared beneath his cloak.

"Like hell I am," Draco growled, and moved towards where Potter had been standing a moment before.

To his surprise, Potter was still there. Draco pounced on him, clawing at the cloak.

"I hear you, you little brat! Don't bother trying to hide!" Filch called. His voice was getting closer.

Draco and Potter wrestled each other to the floor. Draco managed to yank up a liquid-y corner of the cloak. Potter looked livid and was about to say something when Draco shoved his hand over his mouth and lowered himself on top of him. He yanked the cloak over bother of them just as Filch came running into their portion of the hall.

His light shone over the walls, and Draco worried briefly that they would cast a shadow, but he quickly noticed they didn't. It felt strange to watch Filch looking around blindly, clearly perplexed, when Draco could see himself and Potter perfectly fine.

Potter's eyes were glowing angrily. He looked murderous and his body was tense under Draco's. Draco shifted uncomfortably, trying not to feel every curve and angle of Potter's body under his.

"Where are ya? I know you're here somewhere!" Filch said, but he sounded uncertain.

He turned around in a circle, and Mrs. Norris sniffed around. She came terrifyingly close to where he and Potter lay against the wall, but mercifully didn't seem to sense them. After what seemed like hours, Filch finally heaved a sigh of defeat. Muttering to himself, he turn around and lumbered back the way he came. Slowly, his light disappeared down the corridor.

Soon the only noise Draco could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat rushing in his ears. He looked back down and realized he still had his hand clamped over Potters lips. He yanked it away quickly, as if he'd been burned.

"Damn it, Malfoy, you cow. Get off. You're killing me."

"Good," Draco said, slightly put off by the insult.

He put his hands to either side of Potter's head and meant to push himself up when a certain glint in Potter's eye caused him to pause.

A smile slide onto Potter's lips.

"What? What is it?" Draco asked.

"Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

Draco's mouth dropped. He shook his hair into his face so that Potter couldn't see him blushing. He got to his feet, as did Potter.

"No, it was not," Draco said, brushing himself off. "In fact, Potter, you're a bit of a cold fish."

With that, he snatched Snape's journal from Potter's hands and dashed down the hall. Potter didn't chase him.

So Malfoy had a sense of humor. Imagine that.

Harry was musing about the night before as he walked down the dark hallway to breakfast. He was alone, Hermione and Ron having both somewhat suspiciously having slept in. The two were now headed to the showers to 'get ready', although Harry wasn't sure that was the whole of their plans judging from the sly smile Hermione wore, and the shocked glee on Ron's face.

Rather than think about that, Harry chose to fill his mind with memories of last night. He saw the way it looked to have Malfoy perched on top of him. To see his light eyes framed by shadows, and his slight pointy chin jutted out above him. He remember thinking, rather inappropriately at the time, that he could see up Malfoy's nose. For some reason, that made him happy. Malfoy wasn't so tough when you had seen up his nose.

Harry caught himself grinning as he entered the Great Hall. He wiped the smile off his face, feeling a stab of panic. He should not be smiling while thinking about Malfoy. Absolutely not.

Harry entered the Great Hall and strode across the room to his spot at the table. He glanced up at the enchanted ceiling. The gray sky was quickly turning pinkish-purple, and the misty clouds in the sky were starting to fade away. It was going to be a beautiful day, he thought.

He slipped into his seat, and looked around at the empty chairs around him- the places where Hermione and Ron sat were abandoned. Harry tried not to sigh, but he couldn't help it. He felt the rather bittersweet emotion that came with being alone.

Suddenly, someone slipped into the seat next to him.

"Hey, that seat is tak- Luna?" Harry sputtered.

It was Luna Lovegood, indeed, committing crimes against fashion in her own, unique way, as always. She seemed to be going for a pirate look, with red scarf tied around her head, dread locks in her hair, and one gold hoop through her ear. She smiled dreamily at Harry and waved.

"Hello, Harry. I haven't talked to you in a long time," she said, tossing her hip length dreads behind her back. The beads entwined in her braids clinked together.

"Yeah," Harry said, embarrassed because he'd sort of started to ignore her after fifth year. He knew it wasn't nice but sometimes she was just too…well too weird.

"And I wish this meeting was under better circumstances," she finished.

"Huh?"

Luna produced a booklet of papers from out of her top and laid it before Harry. It was a sort of newspaper, and it said 'The Hogwarts Gossiper' on the top.

"What's this?"

"It's an underground newspaper I've been creating for the past few years," she said proudly, then frowned, "Well, I don't do as much work on it as I used to. I took some extra classes this year and I've been busy with homework. So I hired some students to help me work on it. Colin Creevy takes photographs, and Pansy Parkinson sometimes writes a gossip column. Who's dating who, and all that."

"Well, no offence Luna, but I'm not really interested in that sort of thing…"

"Oh, but I think you may be interested in this weeks edition," Luna said, raising her eyebrows. She nodded her head at the newspaper quickly and coughed, as if trying to be sure the newspaper wouldn't notice she was talking about it. "I'm really sorry, Harry, because I like you and I would never have allowed this sort of article to have been printed. It's just that last night I was so busy with Advanced Herbology homework that I didn't have time to go over the submissions before this was printed."

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach. What was Luna talking about? He picked up the paper and read the headline.

Cho Chang Invades Boy's Shower Room; Silly Slip-up or School Scandal?

"Uh, Luna-"

"Below that."

Harry's eyes grazed lower, past the article. He froze when he saw the picture. Oh God. Oh sweet, bearded Merlin. He suddenly felt as if he couldn't get enough air. He was suffocating.

"Harry? Are you ok, Harry? You're turning blue…" Luna said.

"H…Has Malfoy seen this?" Harry stammered.

"Actually, I think he's seeing it right now…"

Harry looked up slowly, terrified at the thought of what might happen next. His eyes caught Malfoy's from across the room. They glimmered humorously. He looked as if he were about to leap across the room and try and strangle Harry until Goyle came running into the room.

"Draco, have you seen this? It's you and Harry! You're kissing!" he shouted, and the whole school seemed to look at Harry and Malfoy at the same time.

Draco snatched the paper from Goyle's beefy hands. He held it up to his friend's face.

"We are not kissing! Look at the picture. Are our faces touching? Are they?" He screamed.

"No, but you're close."

Draco ripped to paper to shreds. Then he ripped Pansy's copy out of her hands and ripped it up as well.

"Calm down, Draco, baby," Pansy said with a grin, "Is there something you want to tell us all concerning your sexuality?"

Draco felt the fire of rage and embarrassment flood through his body. It moved like a wave, up and down his body, settling in his stomach and leaving him with the feeling that he was going to toss up his breakfast at any moment. His chest hurt and his hands were shaking. But he would show none of that. He wouldn't.

"I am not a fucking faggot like Potter," he growled.

"That picture would suggest otherwise," Pansy sang. A group of Ravenclaws sitting near them started to laugh.

Unable to control himself, Draco's reached across the table and grabbed Pansy by the collar of her uniform.

"Listen, Pansy. Listen well," he said, stabbing his finger at her, "Potter attacked me in the hall that day. I don't know who took that picture, but they are putting it out of context. It's not what it looks like. Do you get that? I. Am. Not. A. Fag."

"You're choking me," Pansy gasped.

"I'm going to do a lot worse if you start spreading rumors about me and Harry-Fucking-Potter!" Draco yelled, his voice fluctuating in a way he couldn't control.

He let go of Pansy and fell back, his hands over his face. He pressed his fingers into his hot skin. He took a deep breath but it didn't help. He was so mad. He was so humiliated. He could hear people laughing, he could feel them staring. And it was Potter's fault, once again.

He removed his hands and looked up. He immediately caught Harry's eyes. Morning sunlight was streaming down around Potter like a halo, making his skin pale and his eyes twinkle.

"Potter," he said silently, but he couldn't get out the rest of what he wanted to say.

He turned and snatched another copy of the Hogwarts Gossiper from Blaise and tore it in half. Then he fled the room, no longer able to hold his emotions in check.

"Harry? Harry, are you ok? Is there anything I can do?" Luna asked.

"No. Just…" Harry stammered, watching Draco's disappear from the room.

"I have to talk to him," he said.

Harry got up from the table, ignoring the snickers and stares. He flung up the huge doors out of the Great Hall and slipped out. Behind him, the talking and laughing grew muffled. He looked back and forth, searching for Malfoy. He caught site of the tail of his gray robe disappearing around the corner. Harry scrambled after, and saw Malfoy exit out a small door leading outside to the courtyard.

Harry followed outside, and was immediately assaulted by the bright morning light. He moved quickly through the dewy grass, stepping over puddles made by yesterday's melted snow. It was cold, but Harry wasn't thinking of that. He was thinking only of Malfoy.

He spotted him leaned against the rough stone column of the open walkway that lead from the main part of the castle to the west-wing classrooms. His head was rested against one arm, folded against the column. His hair fell over his face and his shoulders were hunched. His robes fluttered around him, and his body was quaking slightly. The fingers of his free hand played with a lose chunk of rock in one of the stone bricks.

Harry's mouth opened and shut a few times before he swallowed dryly and said Malfoy's name very quietly.

Malfoy jumped and spun around with a look of surprise of his face. Malfoy's nose was red and his cheeks splotchy, but it wasn't from the cold, Harry saw. Two fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Harry was too stunned to speak.

Malfoy was…crying.

Harry felt his stomach sink lower.

"You fucking prick. You fucking-," Malfoy tried, but his voice failed him. He wiped his face with his sleeves and hung his head. "Get away from me."

"Malfoy, I'm sorry. I don't know what-" Harry began.

Malfoy raised his head and looked at Harry with such intense hatred that Harry felt his blood curdle in his veins. He had never had anyone look at him that way before, never with such intensity and revulsion.

"You're what?" Malfoy asked in a whisper.

"I said I'm sorry."

"You're sorry," Malfoy repeated with a deadly calm. He took one step closer and exploded.

"You're sorry, Potter? You're sorry! Fuck your apology! It means nothing to me. Nothing! Do you understand that? Now get the hell away from me or I swear to God that I will kill you."

Harry took a shaky step back, truly believing Malfoy's words. Still though, he felt he couldn't leave until he explained, at least a little. He had no idea why he felt he owed Malfoy anything, but he did. He couldn't take. He'd never done anything this bad in his life. He'd never made anyone cry. It tore him up inside.

"I had no idea this would happen," Harry blurted, "The other day in the hall I only meant to scare you away. I didn't think anyone was around. I had no idea anyone saw…or took a picture. If I had known I would never have…"

Malfoy drug his palms over his face. He was shaking his head from side to side, chewing on his lip. He looked at Harry once more.

"Did you hear them in there? Laughing? They were laughing at me! At Draco Malfoy, the queer. I'm a joke to them now," he breathed, slowly approaching Harry like a tiger about to attack.

He backed Harry against a column and glared into his eyes with burning fury.

"That's not even the worst part, Potter," he said, "The worst part will be when my father hears of this. When he hears that his perfect, preciously son is a fag."

"What? You…you are?" Harry stammered.

"Am I what?" Malfoy asked, narrowing his eyes.

"What you said…gay."

Malfoy looked confused for a moment, then he backed away from Harry. "No. I…Of course not."

"But that's what you just said-"

"I don't care what I just said! I didn't mean it," Malfoy snarled. He shook his head, and backed away further. His face had paled.

Harry felt as if his entire world was unraveling at that moment. He looked at Malfoy and saw something different there. He didn't see the big man, the king of Slytherins. He saw a normal boy. A boy who was afraid of something.

Harry pushed himself away from the wall. "Maybe you are," he said.

"Shut up, Potter."

"Maybe that's why you tease me. Maybe that's why you call me names and torture me. Maybe it's because somewhere inside you, you're afraid you're just like me."

Malfoy's eyes flared murderously, "Just shut up now, Potter."

But Harry couldn't. He couldn't stop now. Everything was suddenly so clear. "All these years, I thought you were disgusted by me. But maybe you aren't. Maybe you're a fag too, Malfoy."

"I am not like you," Malfoy said.

Harry moved forward predatorily. Malfoy's mouth opened, and he licked his lips nervously.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Harry swept forward in one fluid motion, and touched his lips to Malfoy's. He felt a burning rush inside him that pooled like molten lava inside his stomach. His heart was fluttering. He moved his lips over Malfoy's frozen ones, letting his hot breath trickle over them like a breeze. Then he pressed closer, feeling the softness of Malfoy's mouth on his. Malfoy didn't move, didn't respond. Harry parted his lips and ran his tongue over Malfoy's top lip. Malfoy shivered.

Then he smacked Harry right in the face.

Draco slapped Potter, and jumped away. He was horrified. Completely horrified. He looked about wildly to see if anyone had just seen what had happened. Thankfully, the courtyard was abandoned.

Potter was holding his cheek and moaning, but grinned despite himself.

"Am I that bad of a kisser?" he asked.

Draco felt a flush of heat. His lips tingled and something was stirring just south of his belly button. A crazy feeling was slowly filling Draco up. He took another step away from Potter, suddenly not trusting his own body.

He raised one finger and pointed it at Potter.

"Don't you ever, EVER touch me again. Don't ever lay a hand on me. Understand?" he roared.

"Don't lie to yourself," Potter answered cryptically.

Draco continued backing away. Potter just watched him, still massaging his quickly bruising cheek. Draco tore his eyes away and turned away. He began to pick up speed, running as fast as he could away from Potter and the strange emotions he was beginning to feel around him.

He had to find whoever printed that newspaper. He was going to set things right. He was going to fix this. And he was going to get Potter for what happened.

"Luna Lovegood?"

Luna placed her bookmark in the book she was reading, The Pirate Who Stole Her Heart and Booty. She turned around and smiled.

"Well, hello there, Draco Malfoy. What can I do for you?"

Draco pulled out a chair from the table next to her and crouched into it. He glanced at Madame Pince to be sure she wasn't listening, then back to Luna.

"I understand you run the Hogwarts Gossiper."

"If this is about the picture of you and Harry-"

"It is. But, look, I don't want an apology. I just need you to help me fix this," Draco said, flashing Luna his well crafted 'desperate' look.

"I don't know, Malfoy. I don't want to do anything to hurt Harry…"

Draco placed his hand over Luna's and gazed into her eyes, "Trust me Lovegood, I'm doing this to clear both our names. I just need you to write a follow up article."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Nothing bad, just a little explanation of what really happened when that picture was taken."

Luna looked thoughtful, and said, "Well, that sounds all right, I suppose. As long as Harry agreed to this."

"Oh, of course he did."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah."

Luna smiled absently. "Ok. That sounds great. Why don't you meet me here tonight and we can write it together."

"Thanks, Lovegood, you're a doll," Draco said with a wink, and softly grazed her jaw with his fingertips. She flushed happily, and Draco rose. "See you tonight."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Of course you will, Draco thought as he swaggered across the room. That little act never failed him. Girls had a weakness for men that needed them.

Not that Draco ever really needed anyone. He smiled coyly to himself. He was back on the winning side.

He was back.