Note: I have Nothing against all the Harry/Draco stories that everyone write, in fact I quite like them, this is just a character response to the situation. Enjoy!

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It was a lovely sunny day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and everything seemed perfect to Harry James Potter. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and happy students were everywhere.

"Hell, even Snape is happy!" Harry said to himself, laughing at the thought. "Now, where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry was puzzled, but continued down to the great hall nonetheless.
Hm...I wonder whether Malfoy is happy…Snape is…Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the very man himself.

"Potter! I wish to speak with you." Okay, maybe not happy. What does he want now? Is he still on about the whole 'me putting his dad in prison and therefore ruining his ego' thing? Maybe its something else..

"What do you want to talk about, ferret boy?"

"Just a quick chat, no insults involved." Harry narrowed his eyes. Draco was clutching a stack of parchment, all in neat order.

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing? I just wanted to show you something."

"Alright, make it quick. I have my own things to do, like meeting Ron and Hermione."

"Oh, don't worry, scarhead, they're pretty much preoccupied as it is." Draco smirked, but Harry didn't catch it. They both continued walking, heading out the doors and into the grounds. To Harry's surprise, they are deserted, and the lovely afternoon had turned into a lovely evening. The sun was setting, casting a dull red light onto everything, and a soft wind blew through the trees.

"Wha—What happened to the lovely afternoon, with the sun shining, and the birds singing, and the happy students everywhere?"

"That is exactly what I wanted to talk about. Have you heard of course I have."

"It's a web thingamabobby, where muggles go and put up stories about movies and Telesomething shows that they watch, and—What oh earth are you smirking for, Potter? This isn't funny!"

"Its not that."

"Then?"

" I was only wondering about how Draco Lucious Malfoy, the great pureblood prince of all time, would know so much about the muggles he supposedly despises." Draco's eyes widened, and a crimson blush stained his pale face.

"That-That's none of your business, Potter! I-I learned it from-from muggle studies!"

"You don't take muggle studies." Draco mentally slapped himself.

"Alright, so I know a bit about muggles. Who doesn't? That's beside the point anyway. I wanted to talk about the type of stories they put up on this site."

"And what type of stories might those be?"

"Stories about you and me, Potter."

"What?"

"People think it hilarious to make up homosexual stories." As harry wasn't feeling very bright today, his train of thought was somewhat slower.

Me…malfoy…

Homosexual…gay…

Stories…

Homosexual stories…gay stories…

"Stories about you and me, Potter".That means…

Wait.. Gay…Me…Malfoy…

Me and Malfoy…Gay…

OHMEEGAWD! They're making gay stories about me and Malfoy!

"OHMEEGAWD! They're making gay stories about you and me!"

"Wow, Potter, you sure catch on fast." Harry rolled his eyes.

"What are we going to do?"

"Well, read one for starters." Grabbing the parchment from Draco's outstretched hand, he started to read…

A few hours later…

"I quite liked that "Dragon Tamer" One. It was good."

"You mean you actually liked us having kinky monkey sex, Potter?" Harry felt himself growing hot.

"No! I meant the..the language."

" Ah, I see. Well then, I rather enjoyed "Cling or The Prank", and "Shades of Noir". They were quite enjoyable."

"Then what about the gay thing, then? What can we do about that?"

"Nothing. Its not up to us. For all we know, the author who is typing this up right now is getting sick ideas."

"Malfoy, be careful. Authors can do terrible things to you."

"Oh, come on, Potter, what is the worst that could--" Draco blinked. Was it just him, or was harry looking hot? Draco rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the images of harry's qudditch-Toned muscles.

"Something in your eye, Draco?" Harry clapped his mouth over his hands. Did he just call Malfoy Draco? Slip of the tongue, probably.

"erm…anyways. Was there anything else you wanted to say, Dr—Malfoy?" Draco, who was still rubbing his eyes, stopped and nodded. Harry was still looking incredibly attractive. He tried to ignore it as he continued talking.

"There's also the whole Cliché situation. Its where you and I either secretly like each other, then shag and fall in love, or pretend to like each other, the like becomes real, then we shag and fall in love, or one of us is dared to seduce the other, but it turns into a crush, then we shag and fall in love, or--"

"Alright, Alright!" I get the point. Ugh, why is everything related to shagging?"

"Its what the fans want. The Author is probably going to make us ki--" Draco was stopped short by Harry's mouth on his own. Draco quickly pulled away.

"Potter, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing ?"

"Its not me! It's the cliché!" Harry wrapped his arms around a nearby tree, struggling to regain control of his legs, which were currently walking by themselves.

"Draco, run! Or I'll screw you like theres no tomorrow?"

"Okay, i—Wait, did you just call me Draco?"

"Run you blonde git!" And for the first time in his like, Draco obeyed his arch rival. He scrambled to his feet and fled for his life. He threw a glance over his shoulder, only to find (to his horror) that Harry was no longer holding on to the tree, but running full speed towards him.

"AAAAAARGH!" Harry caught up to Draco and tackled him, crushing his lips against his. Damn, shouldn't have opened my mouth, Draco thought, as he felt Harry's tongue enter his mouth. He tried to push it out, but Harry wouldn't let him.

Oh dear Lord, help me, I'm being choked by the tongue of a half-blood, and my own ARCH RIVAL!

Maybe I should just give up.

Yep. I'm giving up.

Actually, this is quite nice.

Harry tastes like strawberries…mmm…strawberries.

Harry suddenly snapped out of his frenzy, and surveyed himself. He was currently kissing his enemy, who seemed to be frozen. Harry, feeling very embarrassed, pulled himself off Draco.

"Er…Sorry about that…The Homo thing, you know, just—Just took over. No con—Oh, hell no! Don't stare at me like that?" It was Harry's turn to scramble to his feet. Unfortunately, he wasn't much faster than Draco, and the blonde was soon upon him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

Draco suddenly snapped out of his frenzy, and surveyed himself. He was currently kissing his enemy, who seemed to be frozen. Feeling very embarrassed, just like Harry had, he pulled himself off the boy and brushed himself off.

"Ahem…my apologies, Potter…The whole "gay" thing, you know, just couldn't stop it. No con—Oh, dear God! Stay away!" Once again, Draco was the one to scramble to his feet. Unfortunately, he wasn't much faster than Draco, and the blonde was soon upon him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

A few minutes later……

"Jesus, Malfoy! Back off, Back OFF!"

.
And almost an hour later…

"Potter, you gorgeous git, stop shoving your tongue down my throat!"

About three hours later, three figures stood at the window of the astronomy tower, watching the two teenagers chase each other.

" Well, I must say, Lucious, it must be a terrible loss, finding your son is a pouf."

"Not so much, Lord Voldemort. I always knew he had it in him. He takes after his father, obviously." Voldemort looked over and Lucious, an eyebrow raised.

"So it was you and…"

"Snape."

"Ah. Well, Dumbledore, you know that when this is over, we shall have to resume being enemies, and Lucious shall have to be portkeyed back to Azkaban?" Dumbledore nodded his head.

"Yes, I do know, although it is rather nice to not be at each other throats, I daresay?" Voldemort and Lucious sighed, then turned to the fourth figure.

"Vanmoriel, perhaps you could keep this little…Run around going so the four of us can have some tea?" Vanmoriel nodded. "Of course, Tom. It is already done. Come now, I have a tea that the muggle world has had for a while. Vanilla berry. I assume you will enjoy it." The four figured exited the astronomy tower, but not before the author whispered to herself,

"I love my job."