Desrosiers: I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for not updating. I could say I've been busy, or I'm going through a rough time, but I'd be lying. grin So, all I can say is I'm sorry. I lost inspiration for a while, and tried out many different writing styles to pass the time during my hopefully short-term writers block. New chapter coming soon, I promise! Yes yes, I know, my promises are rubbish. But I will!

Psst. After I'm done with this story, I'm going to go through and edit out the entire thing. I know I've made some mistakes through all of this, and my writing could be better. So, chyah.

Chapter 12: Men of their Word.

Harry awoke to the glare of sunlight shining through the window on the south wall. He groaned, and buried himself in the covers. He had never been a hard person to wake up, but today, he knew that Ron would be completely suspicious of what happened the previous night.

He turned over inconspicuously to check if Ron was awake. He was fast asleep, clutching his pillow and his head was bent on the mattress. Aw.

Harry slowly peeled back his covers, and slid out of bed, praying that the floorboards wouldn't creak.

He was halfway to the door when---

"GOOD MORNING HARRY POTTER!"

Harry gasped and jumped straight up in the air, falling back onto the floor in a heap of limbs. "What the hell?" He suddenly remembered that he had bewitched his lamp to wake him up in the morning, clutching his hand to his chest.

Holding his breath, Harry looked in Ron's direction, hoping the noise hadn't awoken him. Ron stirred, but to Harry's relief, he just turned over and resumed his sleep. That boy could sleep through a bomb. Harry sighed, and crept out the room and down to the main common room.

Half to his relief, and half to his disappointment, Harry found Hermione fast asleep on the couch as he approached the fire.

He lightly shook her by the shoulders as he rounded the sofa, and took a seat while she woke up.

"Rough night?" Harry said, unable to look at her.

"What? Oh. Oh, real rough. Yeah."

"Hm." Harry got up and left the common room without a word.

"So do you have a date to that dance yet?" Harry half-mindedly asked Seamus at breakfast.

"No. Not a woman will listen to what I have to say." Seamus banged his fist down on the table in anger, rattling the knives and forks on student's plates. "I care too, ya know!"

Harry sighed. "Tell me about it." He murmured. "I mean, I have a friend who's been keeping a secret from me for God knows how long, and I hadn't the slightest clue. I found out the hard way."

"Life sucks when you're a guy." Seamus sighed.

"It does," replied Harry, nostalgically.

Hermione rubbed the sleep out of her eyes on reflex, and stumbled upstairs to the bathroom.

What's with Harry this morning? Very monosyllabic.

Hermione quickly undressed, unable to stop herself from shivering with the cold Hogwarts air, and stepped into the shower.

I mean, why ask how I was if he wasn't going to stick around and listen?

She ran her hands through her hair, trying to dampen it up before applying her shampoo. The warm water was comforting, in an odd sort of way.

Suddenly, as she was dumping the contents of her shampoo bottle onto her already pruning hand, her thoughts drifted to Draco.

What was that about yesterday? Why did I agree to go with him?

But as she finished up washing, and exited the heated atmosphere of the shower stall, she knew very well why she agreed. Very well, indeed.

It was hard for Harry to even ask to copy Hermione's notes in Herbologhy. He wasn't sure exactly why, but whatever it was, and whatever it was that was going on between her and Draco, he could not mention it to Ron. Not yet.

By the time class ended, Harry was physically and emotionally drained from his own thoughts, and the massive man eating slug things eating the plants in front of him.

Dinner in the Great Hall was awkward, if not more than Herbology. Hermione kept casting glances his way, and then returning her gaze to her plate of kidney pie. Harry looked down at his own plate, and the wonderous, hot meal he had previously seen really didn't look that appetizing anymore.

It was only when Ron brought up a question about Harry's old quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, that he regained his speech.

"I hear Puddlemere is going to Cup Finals!" Ron said happily, chomping down on a garlic roll that had only five seconds before appeared at the table.

"Great."

"I thought you'd be more enthusiastic.."

"Yeah, well…"

Ron made no attempt to save the conversation as it went quiet between them. He just gave Harry a weary look and continued eating his dinner.

Harry was grateful for the silence and welcomed it with open arms. He never thought he'd say this but he wanted out of Hogwarts. Out of the drama. Out of the tension. Just, out of here. He just needed a day away. He knew if he did end up leaving Hogwarts, (which would never happen!) he would have no place to go, no food to eat, no one to talk to, and most of all, no way to keep in contact with the ministry and the order. Maybe he just wanted out, temporarily of course.

Harry rose from the table to leave, and it that instant, Draco came pretty much out of nowhere, and grabbed his collar.

"A word, Potter."

Draco gave Harry no time to respond, and dragged him out Great Hall. So much for getting away.

As soon as they were a good enough distance away from the doors, Draco stopped and slowly backed Harry into the wall.

"You remember a while back when I asked for your assistance?" Draco said grudgingly.

Harry raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. What now?

"Well…you said you couldn't help me unless I gave you a name, correct?"

"Mhmm…."

"Yeah, well. I'm thinking of asking…" Draco paused for a few seconds. "I'm thinking of asking----"

Draco was drowned out by an abnormally large booming voice coming from inside the Great Hall. He presumed it to be that nimwit of a headmaster.

"Ladies and gentleman! If I could please have your attention." Dumbledore echoed through the Great Hall as all clatter came to a halt, and all voice ceased at once. Harry and Draco slid back inside the doors.

"It has come to my knowledge that Puddlemere United has made it to cup finals!"

There were a few stray claps here and there from the other tables, but a big uproar from the Gryffindors, on account of their old Quidditch Captain who now plays for said team.

"As many of you may know…" Dumbledore's eyes rested on the Gryffindor table, "A former student, and quidditch captain, might I add, by the name of Oliver Wood," The headmaster had to pause for a few seconds while girls erupted in cheers throughout the entire hall, "Yes yes, settle down. Oliver Wood now plays for Puddlemere. I think we are in need of a celebration!"

Dumbledore clapped twice, and the Puddlemere team colors richly decorated the entire hall, and many cakes, treacles, and tarts appeared fresh on the tables.

"Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me…" Draco huffed from the doorway and rolled his eyes.

Harry suddenly found himself rolling his eyes as well, and soon regretted the swelling of guilt that emerged in his stomach for doing so. He reached down over Ron, grabbed a tart, and gestured for Draco to follow him back outside.

Harry sighed.

"Get it over with."

"Right, right. This is going to sound…unbelievably stupid, ME needing girl advice from YOU, but I can't ask the other slytherins… and--"

"Why not?" Harry crossed his arms.

Because they're blackmailing me!

"Erm.. because,I mean, we're slytherins. What do you think?"

Harry seemed unconvinced, but let it go. "Fine. Go on."

"Right, well.. I need to know how… how to be romantic."

Harry scoffed. This was priceless.

"Shut it, Potter."

Harry just smiled widely. "Of course I'll help little drakey-poo become a man! Can I take pictures?"

"That's enough, Potter."

"Oh, please?"

Draco answered this by slamming Harry forcefully against the wall, receiving a loud grunt from Harry in return.

Harry hastily shoved Draco off of him.

"And what makes you think I'm not going to go around school and maybe..let this secret slip to, oh, say… half a dozen people?"

"You wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure?"

In an instant, Draco found his hand clenched around Harry's throat, backing Harry once again into the wall.

"This."

Harry stuggled to pry Malfoy's hand away from his neck, and soon resulted to kicking, all shots of which Draco darted.

After a while, Draco reluctantly removed his hand, and shrugged his robes back in place. Harry let out few low coughs, and sent a piercing glare at him.

"I mean it Potter. Keep quiet." Draco said in an undermining tone.

Harry smiled grimly.

Draco leaned close to Harry's ear, and whispered. "I'm a man of my word Potter."

"Malfoy, stop with the drama. I'll help, fine. I just want to know what's in it for me?"

"Cho. A date to the dance."

Harry smirked. "And what makes you think I can't get one with her on my own?"

"A lot of things, Potter. Take it or leave it."

"Fine."

Draco smiled, but his grin quickly faded when Harry segued into his next statement.

"You never did tell me who this girl worthy of romanticizing was."

"Didn't I? Oh, must have slipped my mind." Draco turned to leave.

It was Harry's turn to slam Draco up against the wall, and boy, did it feel good.

"Alright!" Draco shrieked. "Watch the robes!"

Harry awaited his answer.

"I'm planning on asking He…"

A/N: Oh, Oh! CLIFFHANGER! Love me, hate me, just review. k?