Disclaimer: These characters and the books I've taken them from do not belong to me. In fact, there's not much that does belong to me. I'm broke, because I spend all of my time on a computer that (surprise!) isn't mine.

Author's note: This piece was pre-Half-Blood Prince. It's tentatively rated "M", not only because I'm not very familiar with the rating system but also because I might get around to writing naughtier, funnier parts.

Draco was wandering the hallways. He was either watching the other students disdainfully - thinking of how much better he was than those simpletons - or else he was gazing wistfully at his peers - wishing not for the first time that he'd grown up in a loving family with a father who didn't rape and or mentally abuse him. He didn't notice Harry following him, even though Harry always seemed to be rather clumsy and really, who would think he could sneak anywhere?

Harry had been stalking Draco for quite a while now. He was suspicious of Draco's newfound love of all things Muggle, including Spongebob Squarepants boxer shorts. Harry was certain it was all just an evil plot Draco had devised in order to hide his plan to become a Death Eater. Everyone knew Draco was going to receive the Dark Mark on his seventeenth birthday, even though no one had ever spoken about it.

Anyways, Harry was tired of following Draco. He decided to take some action. He jumped out in front of Draco - who'd had no idea Harry was there - and pulled him into the nearest convenient empty closet or classroom. Draco fought against his capture, or he was excited to be that close to Potter (or Harry, as he seemed to be mentally calling the other boy. Why was everyone on a first name basis all of a sudden?) and just went along with what was happening. In all reality it didn't matter what Draco was doing, because Harry was fully prepared to ignore him in favor of talking about himself. Harry was the kind of boy who never thought about himself but always seemed to be talking about his own problems anyways.

Draco sighed as he realized Harry was about to speak. It was bad enough having to be that close to Harry Potter, so close he could rub against Harry's side gently and... well, no one wanted to touch Harry, or hear him speak. Except maybe Blaise Zabini, who very much wanted to fuck Harry and then leave him for the Weasley girl.

Something else happened before the main dialogue started. It was an obvious ploy for distraction, a way for the author to bulk up the piece. Maybe Harry licked his lips and Draco became sexually aroused for five paragraphs. Maybe Harry finally noticed the blue...grey?...blue color of Draco's eyes, and the intensity of his love or hatred for Draco had to be described, explained, and dealt with for five pages. Whatever it was, it took up enough space that the reader forgot what it was they were waiting to see, which was the main dialogue. Which of course started at that most inconvenient time.

"Even though I've disliked you almost since the moment we met," Harry began, then paused dramatically to allow both boys to reflect on their mutual history, "I've become insanely attracted to you. It seems sudden, but I choose to believe I've secretly wanted you all along. Even though we met when we were eleven, and that's about the equivalent of child porn."

Draco was concurrently relieved and dismayed. "Potter," he said, for he was apparently unable to choose one name for the Boy Who Lived. See? There he went again. But back to the talking and the sexual tension. "Potter," Draco said for the first time because the other one didn't really count, "That's disgusting! I'm not at all attracted to men. Yeah, I wear expensive designer clothing and pay far to much attention to the state of my hair. And maybe I do enjoy rolling around on the floor, er, fighting-"

Harry suddenly noticed something, and interrupted Draco's speech to fix the other boy's part. "There you go," he said cheerfully.

"Thanks!" Draco said, not for the first time wondering when it was that he'd become so obsessed with his hairdo. He couldn't recall it ever happening in the first few books, er, years, but it was now such an obvious part of his personality.

Draco opened his mouth to continue his rant, but a confused look came over his oh-so-very-expressive face. "Er, where was I again?"

Harry, who had learned to leer somewhere along the line, well, leered. "Rolling around on the floor," he offered helpfully.

"Oh, right. I like to fight other boys, preferably when it involves someone being pinned down and having to writhe helplessly under their captor. And yeah, you've never seen me with a girl, other than Pansy, who has a sort of pug face yet is incredibly vain and a great shopping partner-"

Harry raised his eyebrows at that (Or, he tried, but only Slytherins can raise their eyebrows. It's the international sign of Bad People), but Draco continued. "Er, yeah. Pansy. Who is quite taken with Blaise."

This information surprised Harry, and any reader who hadn't been previously acquainted with the concept of foil pairings in Slash Fanfiction. (These pairing consist of two heterosexual friends, or one friend and their lover. The couple is usually somehow responsible for the getting together of the main characters, who are either two men or two women. The foil couple consists of one or two nosy sluts.) But Harry recovered from his shock, and so did most readers. "Really?" Harry et. all inquired. "I've never seen them speak to each other! Have they ever even been in the same room?"

"Yes when...well, they must have at some time!" Draco replied indignantly. "We have classes together."

"About that. How come I've never seen more than five Slytherin? There must be more of you."

"Maybe you just don't recognize them? A lot of them wear masks, if you know what I mean." There was a moment of silence during which it became clear that not only did everyone know what Draco meant, but also that joke wasn't very funny. Draco hurriedly segued into a rather similar topic. "I don't want to be a Death Eater, you know."

Harry was done being surprised. Draco was just full of "shocking secrets" that came out too "suddenly" for anyone to fully deal with. But Draco was watching expectantly for Harry's reaction, so Harry sighed indulgently and asked, "Really? What about all those times you made fun of Mudbloods?"

Draco raised his eyebrow perfectly, as only a Slytherin could. "I thought we weren't supposed to call them that?"

"Oh, come off! Hermione isn't even here."

"Yes, well, back to me. I'm stuck up, not evil. My father's been controlling my mind all these years with one of those Unforgivable Curses no one seems to remember the name of because it's not pretty and doesn't kill people. Or, you know what? No. That's not very believable. Let's just say I'm terrified of him, but not scared enough that I won't confess everything to my future lover."

"What's that?" A hopeful Harry wanted to know.

"I...I said mortal enemy!" Draco quickly said.

"I see," Harry replied, both saddened by Draco's inability to confront his own feelings, and amused by his former enemy's crush. "How 'bout we just make out then?"

"Alright." They kissed for quite some time, moaning each other's names in perfect synchrony. It wasn't until they were both close to coming did Draco realize what he was doing, and push Harry away. He shrieked, "Get off me, you perv!" and ran out of the classroom.

"Tease!" Harry sighed and went off in search of a conversations involving less exclamation points.

- - - - -

Meanwhile, things were happening that didn't pertain to The Boy Who Lived. They didn't pertain to anyone with a very long moniker at all. The people involved weren't very attractive, either. One wonders why anyone cares about these happenings, but then one remembers the lesson on foil characters and keeps one's mouth shut. One tunes in to the happenings just as Hermione is finally telling Ron to Sod Off.

"Sod off!"

See?

"What?" Ron asked, bringing us all back into the past tense. "I was only trying to touch you inexpertly, as only a teenage boy would, and still be as sensual as I can be until everyone remembers I'm a gangly boy with red hair and freckles."

"Why would you want to touch me?"

One was wondering that, too, but there you are.

"Because we're dating."

"Aren't."

"Are too, it's canon."

"No, it is not. I know canon." Hermione said this in a voice that did not invite any arguments. Hell, she used that voice for everything. She placed orders at fast food places in that voice. After dedicating a few moments to admiring her superiority over everyone, Hermione continued. "Canon is actual stated fact. Not unresolved sexual tension. Hell, if UST meant anything, you'd be shagging Har-" Hermione trailed off and began to drool a bit. She was, after all, a foil character, and therefore wanted very much to see two men engage in sexual activities.

Ron, who was quite insightful even though he'd always acted like a moron, did not miss the spectacle that was Hermione drooling. "Aha! So you are attracted to me," he said triumphantly, as if he'd uncovered some great secret.

"Well, I do have a thing for stupid (yet strangely perceptive) men..."

"So how's about I give you a full body massage?" At Hermione's skeptical look, Ron quickly continued. "I'm surprisingly talented, though obviously a virgin."

"Obviously."

"What?"

"Nothing. Oh, All right. I'll let you grope me. I've already forgotten about my other boyfriend, anyway."

Ron, who was back to being stupid and forgetful, had to ask. "Who?"

"You remember, Ron. My rich and famous beau that everyone always forgets about."

"Oh, him. I can't believe you landed that one."

"Why not? Don't forget, my hair was straight. And he's not all that attractive."

Ron laughed obnoxiously at that. "Come on, Mione. That man just oozes Quidditch and sex."

"I didn't know you liked men, Ron." Sure, Hermione wanted to see guys going at it. But when it got down to it, she distrusted any guy who didn't want to be with women.

"You didn't know? I thought everyone knew about my 'secret' crush on every main player in Hogwarts, including both Draco and Harry who I am simultaneously jealous of."

"Why would you be jealous?"

"Well, der. They're utterly smitten with each other." This was followed by a very long period of silence, during which both Ron and Hermione thought long and hard about things pertaining to Draco and Harry. Both snickered at the phrase 'long and hard', because they are after all still very young and immature. At any rate, the laughter served to knock them both out of their Drarry fantasies. Ron spoke first, of course.

"So...you still wanna go?"

"Why not?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "Only, get some candles or something. Our first time should be special, and all that rot."

"Yep," Ron said dreamily, "Our first time having sex."

"Together." Hermione added.

"Yep. Our first time...wait, what? Mione? Mione?

- - - - -

Thankfully, for the sake of her young mind, Ginny didn't know what her big brother was up to. Hell, even if someone had told her, she wouldn't have heard. Ginny Weasley only cared about Harry Potter, or whoever else she was obsessing about at the time. She sat alone at the Gryffindor table, shoveled food into her mouth and wondered why no one wanted to stalk her.

Two pairs of eyes were trained on the youngest Weasley. One set belong to Neville Longbottom. He truly did care about Ginny. He knew everything about her because he'd been through her trash every day since she'd come to Hogwarts. He loved her despite her blatant crush in Harry. He'd forgiven her for the Vold- You-Know-Who thing. However, because Neville was really interested in Ginny, and cared about her well-being, he's not relevant to this story at all. So we're moving on...

...to the second pair of eyes, which belonged to one Blaise Zabini. Blaise had never met Ginny in the same unimportant way that he'd never met Pansy. Despite this, he desperately wanted to have sex with the very under aged girl. He turned to Pansy, and said just that. "Pansy," he said, "I want to have sex with that under aged Weasley girl." (Blaise had no definable speech patterns, so he always ended up sounding like a robot who'd grown up in America or quite possibly Australia.)

Pansy's face was practically green with envy, and Blaise sent her an amused smirk. He wouldn't have been so cocky if he knew that Pansy was jealous of him, not Ginny. Or was Pansy in love with Blaise? It didn't matter, really. She just wasn't a very important character.

Blaise The Robot pointed that out to her. "Pansy," he said, "You're just not an important character. Why don't you run off and shag that Neville boy?" (After all, we know how people hate to have loose ends hanging about. Everyone has to be paired off by the end of the story. Because that's exactly what would happen in Real Life.)

Pansy ran off, presumably to go shag that Neville boy. Blaise didn't see her go, because his eyes had once again locked on a tangle of red hair. He watched her whine and complain to the empty space around her, and thought, "That's the girl I'm going to marry."

Ha, no, really. He thought, "That's the girl I'm going to fool around with for a while before I get bored and go back to fooling around with Harry."

Not much else seemed to be happening around these people, the narrator left in an a huff of impatience. She was determined to find action in the castle, or at least a definition for the word 'huff'.

- - - - -

While the narrator was buried in the tomes of the Library, searching for an ordinary Muggle dictionary, a fairly horrible sex scene was staged between Professors McGonagall and Snape. It may have involved Hagrid, and it may have involved shoving a dragon's egg into places people normally only shove hamsters.

It was a disgusting event, and the narrator was glad to have missed it.

In fact, you know what? The narrator has to go vomit up all the frogs in her stomach, chocolate and otherwise, just from thinking about it. I mean, really. That's just gross.

The narrator may or may not continue her story after many teeth brushings. She's kind of upset with fangirls right now.