Author's Notes: I'm sorry to say that I'll be away next weekend, so I (probably) won't be able to upload a new chapter. That said, I solemnly swear to upload two chapters the next week. Thank you for your awesome reviews, and enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 3: In Which Boundaries Are Crossed

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
- Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Harry stood in one of the few bedrooms that still existed in Grimmauld Place and stared down at the robes that Pansy had sent over in horror.

"I'm expected to wear this?" he asked Hedwig in horror. "It's in Slytherin colours!"

And it was. The robes were fitted, and had no front part from the waist down. The top half was covered in far too many buttons – silver buttons – going down the front, and they were Slytherin green. The trousers that she'd sent – there was no shirt, only the robes – were black and laced up the sides with green ribbon. There was a necklace of sorts, more like a torque really, made of intricate swirls of artistically tarnished silver.

"This is ridiculous. There is no way I'm wearing this," he protested. "She must have sent me Malfoy's instead."

As he was stuffing the robes haphazardly back into the large box they had come in his door opened.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, running up to him and yanking the robes from his hands. "Harry, these are Pansy Wood originals! One, you can't treat them like that; two, who did you have to sleep with, and are they into girls as well?"

Harry laughed. "You can't be serious, Ginny. I told you yesterday, Hugh's friends with Pansy Wood."

"Oh," Ginny said. "Right. So he's not into girls then? I could get Dean to sleep with him if he wanted."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're willing to pimp out your boyfriend for one dress?"

"Harry, I'm willing to sell my soul for dress robes by her. She's famous for a reason, Harry. Did she send these to you?"

"I guess," Harry said miserably. "But the colours…"

"The colours are fine," Ginny said dismissively. "No one will care. Green really brings out your eyes, you know. She wouldn't let you look bad in something she designed – it would ruin her reputation."

Harry eyed the robes. "Are you sure? And how do you even get into those things?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Harry – it has an invisible zipper in the side of the robes so you don't have to unbutton anything. It's just like getting in and out of a dress."

Harry was about to protest that he had never worn a dress when he thought better of it. Who knew really?

"Come on, come on – you need to be downstairs when Hugh arrives!" Ginny ushered Harry into the connected water closet, and began to strip him of his clothes.

"Ginny!" Harry cried, trying to pull his t-shirt back down. "What are you doing?"

"Oh come on, Harry," Ginny scolded. "It's not as if I haven't done considerably more than look at it before – although don't tell Ron that, he's still in denial about the baby. Off they go!" She resumed tugging at his clothes.

"I can dress myself, thank you," Harry said. "Come on, Ginny – let me get into the trousers and then you can help with the robe, all right?"

Ginny swatted at him playfully. "Fine, Harry – do hurry up though, Hugh will be here any minute now!"

Harry rolled his eyes as soon as the door to the loo was firmly closed. "Weren't you saying I shouldn't fall for his American wiles?" Harry asked, raising his voice a little so she could hear him through the door.

"That was before I knew that he knew Pansy Wood," Ginny called back. "Now, I want you two to get married so I can get a Pansy Wood original bridesmaid dress."

"You could have had a Pansy Wood original wedding dress," Harry shot back, hoping that she hadn't had one.

"Harry!" Ginny shrieked. "I thought you and Ron were going to drop that!"

Crap, Harry thought.

"You know Dean and I don't want to get married yet. Hermione understands. Why can't you?"

"Sorry, Ginny," Harry said as he tugged the entirely too-tight pants he had been given up to cover his hips and swung open the door. "It's just – you know."

"Oh, I know, Harry," Ginny cooed as she shoved the Slytherin robe over his head. "Raise your arms."

Harry did as he was told. Obviously, Ginny had been taking lessons from Mrs. Weasley in preparation for the new baby.

"So," Harry said, once the robes had been zipped up and the torque had been clasped around his neck. "How do I look? Slytherin? Evil? Bad?"

"No, actually," Ginny said happily. "You look quite hot. I bet Hugh's going to be all over you tonight!"

Right, Harry thought. Only if he wants to make the front page again.

Because, of course, Malfoy had been right and they had been plastered all over every paper in the Wizarding World, up to, and including, The Daily Prophet. It was a sad world, he reflected, when he and the bloke he was pretending to go out with were front page news.

"Do you think they'll be any more photographers tonight?" Harry asked as he tried in vain to tidy his hair.

"I shouldn't think so – only Colin, really," Ginny said absently as she joined his battle. "I thought you said you had increased the security this year?"

"I did," Harry lied. "Of course I did."

"Then you shouldn't have anything to worry about," Ginny enthused. "Colin will take the requisite few pictures and then leave you alone."

"Well," Harry said uncertainly. "All right. It's just that I don't want my private life splashed all over the front pages."

"I understand, Harry – we did go out, once upon a time." She smiled to take the bite out of her statement. "I was just too effeminate for you, I guess."

That, Harry knew, was meant to be a joke. Only, when he compared Malfoy and his airs to Ginny and her cropped hair and button down shirt – the only concession she had made to the importance of the evening was a floor length, black skirt Hermione had all but forced her into – it was clear that Malfoy really was the more female of the two.

"Right," Harry said, smirking a little. "Effeminate."

Ginny hit him and pushed him out the door.

XoX

When Draco arrived at Grimmauld Place in the gold and red robes into which he had been forced by Pansy, he did not expect Potter to greet him at the door with a peck on the cheek. Nor did he expect Potter to, at the urging on his friends, kiss him full on for Colin Creevey for 'prosperity' (and, Draco suspected, publicity). So, following the two rather abrupt kisses, Draco made sure to stay out of Potter's way, nursing a champagne glass and trying to smother the beginning of attraction.

When he was good and drunk, Draco set out to confront Potter. "Potter," he said, clasping a delicate glass of champagne in his hand. "What on Earth was that all about?"

"What was what all about?" Potter asked. Potter, Draco noted, was only drinking water.

"That… that thing at the door," Draco said conspiratorially. "You know."

The other man looked supremely amused. "Oh, the kiss?"

"No, Potter, the other thing at the door," Draco snapped. "Of course the… the kiss."

Potter shrugged. "Sorry about that. Ginny was going on and on about what a cute couple we were, and wouldn't we like to kiss for the camera so I did it to shut her up."

"And you couldn't have asked, or at least warned me first?"

The amused expression on Potter's face was slowly morphing into a frown. "It's not like you really consulted me about holding hands last night, Malfoy. Don't give me that."

"But I gave you my reasons for it afterwards, I didn't just… just bugger off to greet guests!"

"Oh hush up, Malfoy – it wasn't like I enjoyed it!" Potter retorted as his control finally snapped and with that, stomped off.

Draco was angry. How could Potter have not enjoyed their kiss? Draco had enjoyed it. Certainly, it wasn't because he had enjoyed kissing Potter, but he was secure enough to admit to himself – and perhaps to Potter or Pansy – that the man was a good kisser and reasonably attractive. Draco also knew himself to be a skilled kisser and extremely attractive. Potter, he thought, should have felt at least some compulsion to admit he liked kissing him, if only because he was pretty.

Spotting Pansy and her entourage of sycophants, Draco made his way over to complain to her. If he was lucky, she might stroke his hair for him.

XoX

"He really does know Pansy Wood!" was the first thing Hermione said to Harry as he approached.

Harry glanced over his shoulder in time to see Pansy ditch her entourage for Draco. "You didn't believe me? Even when I showed up in these?" he asked, picking at the edges of his robes.

"Well… It's just sort of hard to believe, you know?" Hermione answered tentatively. "I know we went to school with her and all, but I've never really connected Pansy Parkinson and Pansy Wood in my mind. Do you think you and Hugh will be together long?"

Harry rolled his eyes. What was so great about Pansy's robes anyway – they just seemed too tight and too pretentious to him. "I don't know," he said. "We'll see what happens, I suppose."

"Hmm," Hermione said. "Because if you end up marrying him, then she'll probably provide dresses for the wedding party."

Hermione, Harry decided, had been spending far too much time with Ginny.

XoX

"Well," Pansy said, sounding thoroughly amused. "At least you'll be on the front page again, dear."

"I don't want to be on the front page on someone else's terms, only on my own," Draco pouted. "Did you know, he said he didn't enjoy kissing me?"

"Oh is that what this is about, Draco?" Pansy asked, exasperated. "Since when has what Potter thought ever bothered you?"

"Well," Draco began uncertainly. "It isn't so much the fact that he didn't like kissing me as…"

"Oh for – you liked kissing him?"

"No," Draco protested. "Well, maybe. Just a bit."

Pansy rubbed her temples. "Look, honey, why don't you just go up to Potter and kiss him, then maybe he'll see what he's missing out on."

"No!" exclaimed Draco. "Are you insane?"

"I'm getting there," Pansy murmured as she knocked the rest of her champagne back. "I don't suppose you want to go over and pretend to be Potter's boyfriend for an hour or so, do you?"

"Not really. I'd probably have to talk to people with red hair."

"Go. Now. Before I tell everyone that you fancy a Weasley," Pansy threatened.

"I do not!" Draco cried, outraged.

"Oh that's right, you fancy a Potter instead," Pansy sneered as she turned away from Draco. "Darling, go away. You're fun to be around, but only in small doses."

Draco huffed and span around to find Potter. If he was miserable, the other man would be too.

XoX

"… it's like being rear-ended," Hermione was explaining as Harry approached. "Sometimes, when you rear-end someone it doesn't do anything, and sometimes you do damage – it's just like that."

"Hermione, what on Earth are you talking about?" Harry asked, deciding he should probably save the bewildered-looking young wizard she had cornered.

"Magic," she answered promptly. "Why potions don't always turn out right. This is Benjamin Dunbar, he works for the Ministry."

Harry shook Benjamin's hand and gave him a sympathetic look. "I see – she used to do this to Ron and me in school too," he said. "She'd just go on and on, and we'd have no idea what she was ranting about."

Benjamin smiled, and Harry had just noticed that the other man was quite attractive, really, when Malfoy came along.

"I'm bored," Malfoy whigned, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and dropping his head onto Harry's shoulder. Harry blushed crimson immediately.

"M – Hugh!" he hissed, pushing at Malfoy's arms. "I'm trying to save some bloke from Hermione, here."

Malfoy raised his head to glance at Benjamin before dropping it back on to Harry's shoulder. "Don't care," he said petulantly. "Let him suffer."

Harry sighed. Really, how did Pansy put up with him? Harry wasn't even his real boyfriend and Malfoy still managed to be high maintenance.

"Hugh," Hermione greeted pleasantly. "I'm not sure if you remember me. I'm Hermione Weasley – I was there that night you were looking for Harry."

"Ah yes," Malfoy said, freeing Harry and moving to shake her hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Harry has told me all about the adventures the two of you had at Hogwarts."

Harry was a bit surprised, but he supposed Malfoy would be able to hold up his end of any Hogwarts-related conversation Hermione struck up.

"He did?" Hermione exclaimed as Benjamin edged away from the three of them. "You must be something special, then, because Harry never tells anyone about our school days! He always says it's too personal!"

Shit, Harry thought. Hermione, Ginny and Fleur are going to be looking at Pansy Wood bridesmaid dresses tomorrow.

"Really?" Malfoy asked. "How interesting. Do you have any other insights into our dear Harry's character?"

Hermione's not stupid, Harry thought desperately. Hermione's not stupid.

"Oh, you don't want to hear about that do you?" It was quite clear to Harry that Hermione expected him to really want to hear about that.

"Of course!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Why wouldn't I?"

"They're boring," Harry said, jumping in to try and save himself. "Utterly and completely boring. Don't do it."

Malfoy had just opened his mouth to say something when Fleur swept up in an elegant, white gown.

"Bonjour," she said pleasantly. "Comment ça va?"

"Ça va, merci," Malfoy returned. "Et toi?"

"Bien, merci beaucoup," Fleur smiled and turned to face Harry. "You must keep this one, 'Arry. 'Ee iz much nicer then your others."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said weakly as Fleur and Malfoy launched into a conversation he could not hope to comprehend. "Hermione, do you understand anything they're saying?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Every other word or so, I haven't spoke French in such a long time. Perhaps it's a good thing that Hugh's here to talk to Fleur in her native tongue. I never even thought of doing it!

"An American fluent in French! How marvellous! You really must keep this one, Harry. He's absolutely charming. You look so cute together!"

It was, Harry reflected, surreal. Here he was, pretending to be dating Draco Malfoy, and Hermione was telling him how cute of a couple they were. "Right," Harry said as Fleur and Malfoy laughed simultaneously and shot him matching looks. "I'm going to get more champagne."

XoX

Midnight was fast approaching, and Harry had been successfully avoiding Malfoy for a good two hours when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Look," he began. "I don't want to talk about it, all right?" He spun around, about to tell the blue-haired man to leave him the fuck alone, but was met with the bewildered visage of Charlie Weasley.

"Harry?" he asked cautiously. "Are you all right?"

Harry sighed. "Sorry, Charlie – I thought you were someone else."

"It's fine, mate – I understand. I was just wondering how things are going with that new boy toy of yours. Tired of him yet?" Charlie winked, and Harry suddenly found himself thinking that red heads were quite attractive.

"Er," he said. "Have you met, um, Hugh before?"

"I don't think so," Charlie answered with a smile. "Shall we go sit? You can tell me all about him – the media's eating it up. Harry Potter and his American lover."

Harry laughed. "I don't know why they're so interested – it's not like we've been together all that long."

Charlie laughed again. "Yes, but you two came onto the scene with a screaming row in the middle of a restaurant that wasn't your own. That's quite something, although I'm sure Zacharias Smith would argue that your final fight in the middle of Madam Malkin's was a better performance."

"He'd argue about anything," Harry retorted sullenly. "Why on Earth did I ever go out with him?"

"Probably because he's fit," Charlie said, swinging an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Cheer up, chum – it's in the past."

Yes, Harry thought petulantly. But I'll have to go back and re-live it eventually.

"It's nearly midnight, shouldn't you go snog your boyfriend?"

Harry blushed. "Well…" he said.

"Oh, I get it!" Charlie exclaimed. "Another lovers' spat, is that it?"

"Oh. Yes, yes of course," Harry agreed weakly, glad Charlie had thought it up.

"Well then, that solves my problem!" Charlie said, smiling – and wasn't he a bit cheerful? Harry had just said that he and his… 'boyfriend' were on the outs, after all.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as the crowd around them started to count down to midnight.

"Well," Charlie said in a coy, leading sort of way that made Harry think of his little sister. "I don't have anyone to kiss, and you're having a fight with your boyfriend. It's perfect!"

"I don't understand," Harry said. Was that Malfoy over there with Pansy and Oliver? And didn't those two just personify the ideal couple, all soft touches and gentle kisses – disgusting. Next thing you know, Pansy would be designing matching robes for the pair of them.

"Zero!" the crowd shouted, and Charlie grabbed his shoulders, kissing him hard. Harry endured, that was really the only word for it. Charlie may have been a good kisser under different circumstances, but Harry was very aware that he was supposed to be dating someone else, and he wasn't the disloyal type. Not to mention that fact that Charlie hadn't kissed him so much as mashed their mouths together and now all he could focus on was the pain radiating from his nose, even if Charlie had changed the mashing of mouths, faces and teeth to a real kiss.

When they parted, no one seemed to have noticed their little tryst, despite its occurence in the middle of Harry's restaurant.

"What was that?" Harry asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm. What if Collin had taken a photograph? Would this be all over the front page of The Prophet tomorrow? He couldn't get in a fight with Malfoy, he'd lose all chances of getting back to his own time!

"Fuck," Harry muttered as Charlie slunk away. Obviously, he had to go find Malfoy.

XoX

Draco hadn't been looking for Potter. He really hadn't. He's just happened to glance over to a deserted corner of the restaurant while everyone was snogging and hugging and generally being cheerful in time to see a fit Weasley and Potter sucking each other's faces off.

Oh, he thought. Well.

All right, so maybe Draco had been just a little attracted to Potter. And maybe he had enjoyed that kiss just a little too much. He certainly wasn't going to admit it, at least not now.

Draco turned and stomped out of the room.