A/N; here's the second part, hope you like it.

Disclaimer; yeah yeah, not mine

Warnings; Slash, bad language. I repeat the 'slash', okay?

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Oh dear god, I've just realized, I still haven't said anything yet. He's still biting his lip, I can see a little trail of blood beginning to emerge…oh, no, no, no, no! Stop bloody well looking!

I tear my eyes away, now biting my own lip as I try to decide what to do. That was wrong, right? That shouldn't have happened. Maybe he's confused from blood loss. I mean, just what the hell did he expect to gain? What the fuck does he want me to do?

I glance up at him, my eyes meeting his in a brief moment where I just want to scream at whichever deity decided to screw around with both of our lives.

"Come on," I say softly, moving out of his grasp "we need to get you to hospital wing,"

I shove my hands into my pockets, not daring to look back and see how he's handling it. He probably won't know what to make of my reaction, but I want to avoid a confrontation at all costs. I don't know what to do, and walking away seems like the best plan of action.

"Harry!" Seems like Draco has other ideas.

I stop, waiting for to catch up with me. He takes hold of my arm, spinning me around to face him.

"What the hell do you want from me, Draco?" I cry out, pulling my arm back. He looks like a little lost puppy now; I just hope he doesn't put up a mask again. If he does, it means I've hurt him too much, and I don't want that. I don't want to hurt him but…I don't want him to hurt me either.

"What do you mean?" he asks, stepping forward as I step back.

"What the hell was that?"

"Well, I believe they call it a kiss," was the blonde's drawled reply, as raised an eyebrow. Oh, he looks oh so delicious…no, no, no!

"W-why? What the hell do you want from me?" I ask again, backing up. "What have you done to me? Why do I feel like this?"

Oh dear, he's confused now. Well, I'm not really surprised, I'm confused now too. But then, why do I feel like this? My life is being turned upside down by all this, and I know it can't happen, and yet I still want more. I still want to feel his lips upon mine, his fingers on my skin and his skin beneath my own. I want to be close to him, to see his smile just once more…no, no, no, no, no! How did I get like this?

"Feel? Harry, feel like what? I haven't done anything to you, I swear," he smiles a little, trying to come closer.

"No!" I cry, stepping back once more – imagine my horror when I find myself up against a wall.

"Harry, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"It shouldn't be this way!" I think I'm babbling a little, but I'm quite sure he's not totally following what I'm trying to say. I shake my head violently, running a hand through my hair.

"I don't know what the hell you've done to me Malfoy, just stay the hell away!"

He's scowling now; I think he's angry with me. Well, I'm angry with me too, but he doesn't have to look so put-out at the same time.

"I didn't do anything to you, Potter," he replies, putting the stress on my last name. He steps forward, so now he's right in front of me again. He takes hold of my arms as I try to move away, pinning them to the wall above me.

"Let go of me!"

"I don't know what you're feeling, Harry," he whispers in my ear, his breath ghosting over my skin. I know for a fact that if he keeps up this act much longer my legs are going to give way beneath me, and I'm quite sure I'll let him do whatever he wants.

"But I can assure you it's all very much real. Admit it; you wanted that kiss just as much as I did,"

I scowl as he pulls back to look at me, smirking in that annoying but very cute – no, no, no! he is not cute! – way of his.

"Keep dreaming, Malfoy,"

I think I made him angry again, but it doesn't matter, because he leans down and the next thing I know we're kissing again. Shit!

And that, I think, was my last coherent thought, because then I'm totally lost in the moment, kissing back and fighting for dominance over the kiss as he slips his tongue into my mouth. He let go of my arms, placing his hands on my hips instead, and I feel my arms wrapping around his neck, again, without my permission. I'm going to give those arms a stern talking to later, you mark my words. He deepens the kiss, pulling my hips into contact with his own so we are now completely chest-to-chest, and I let a moan escape my lips as the pleasure overrides my brain cells.

He pulls back, smirking triumphantly at me. He kisses my nose, flashes me a wide and very real grin that melts my heart, then walks away.

"Get over your denial, Potter," he says over his shoulder, making his way towards the hospital wing "and stop trying to excuse it all by saying I have you under some sort of spell. Trust me, you're not the only one that's scared shitless by what they're feeling."

And then he's gone, his robe flittering out of sight around a corner. I don't follow him.

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"Pass the potatoes, Harry,"

I roll my eyes at Ron, who can't be bothered to reach a little way out to his right for the bowl, and pass him his required food anyway.

"Cheers," is his reply, before he piles more food into his mouth. Hermione pulls a face in disgust; though you would have thought she would be used to it by now. Although, I don't think anyone can ever get used to it, you know?

"Hey, Harry, are you coming to the quidditch practice on Saturday? You missed the last one, and we have a match next week,"

"Yeah, I'll be there," I reply, nodding "who's the match against?"

"Slytherin."

Typical, no? Anyway, in case you're wondering, I'm not Quidditch captain; I turned down the position and it was passed to Ron. He's better at strategies etc, and he makes me help him with try-outs anyway, so I'm not missing anything. I decided I wouldn't have enough time to be captain on top of everything else that's going on, you know, with N.E.W.T.s this year, not to mention Voldermort and now this mess with Draco…I was right to turn it down, wasn't I?

"Great, just great," I say, and Ron nods in agreement.

"Yeah, I know, mate. But I've come up with some new formations for the chasers, so we'll definitely beat them. Besides, you're up against Malfoy; when have you ever lost to him?"

Yeah, when have I ever lost to him? I have a feeling I'll be loosing this next match; I won't be able to take my eyes off him. Damn, just what the hell has Malfoy done to me?

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll wipe that smug look off of Malfoy's face," Dean says, grinning widely. I grin back, hoping they all think it's genuine. Out of habit, I look over to the Slytherin table; yeah, there he is, Draco, sitting alone as usual. Although, he is surrounded my people; he's sitting in the middle of the table, right in my line of sight. I bet he came in after us and sat there on purpose, just to annoy me.

But, the think is, although he's surrounded by people, they still don't talk to him – so he may as well be sitting completely alone. They look to be tormenting him a bit, and I see to my pleasure that he just replies with his usual sarcastic comments and they shut up straight away. But there's no smug look on his face, he looks rather…sad, really.

Oh dear god, he's caught me looking. I can feel the blush rising to my cheeks, but as I stare into those two cloudy eyes I can't bring myself to look away. He sends a smile my way, raising an eyebrow in question to my blush. He uses his eyes to direct me to the girl sitting next to him, who has yet to realize that her hair has suddenly turn a quite vivid pink and orange (striped diagonally), and her usual black and green robes are now painted in rainbow stripes.

I can't help it, I grin, my laughter mixing with that of the Slytherin students who have already noticed. It's quite a simple prank, really, but I'm sure it's sufficient as pay-back nonetheless. Draco grins at me, trying to look innocent as Snape makes his way over to their table. I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head a little.

"Hey, whatcha' looking at?" Ron is leaning over my way, looking where I was at the Slytherin table. He spots the girl and bursts out laughing, drawing attention from nearby students who look in the same direction; and of course, all of them are now laughing too.

"For god's sake," I hear Hermione say, though she to is smiling "they're so immature,"

I think the girl has just noticed what has happened to her, as she is looking into a mirror. Ah, yes, there's the screaming. I wince as she stands up, pointing accusingly at Draco who calmly flips her the finger. I laugh harder as Snape taps the girl on the shoulder, pointing to the doors; of course, she leaves in tears, running away from the laughter that echoes throughout the hall. Snape is talking to Draco, but I don't have a clue what they're saying. No matter, I'm sure I'll hear the whole story through the rumour mill at some time or other.

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Ah, finally, the comfort of my own bed. I lay down, pulling the covers up around me. It's been a long day, that's for sure, and now all I want to do is sleep. But, as I turn onto one side to stare at the closed hangings around my bed, I can't help but think about Draco.

Damn that blonde, the one who keeps me awake at night, who plagues my dreams with vivid fantasies, who changes his moods like he changes his clothes; which is very often, trust me.

And you know what; I'm not even bloody gay! None of this should have happened, none of it at all. I could have handled a friendship with the blonde, that would have been fine, but since when did I become attracted to him? And since when did I start calling him Draco in the first place?

I've barely even had a real conversation with him, so it simply shouldn't be possible for me to like him. I'm not attracted to him, I can't be. For six long years he was my worst enemy (he overtook Voldermort when I began to have erotic dreams about him), so how can we be nice to each other now? No, it can't happen. It shouldn't happen, and it won't. No.

Imagine the dangers; if his father ever found out he would come after us both, for entirely different reasons to his previous grudges! And Voldermort and, oh god Ron! What the hell would Ron and Hermione say about all this? And Ginny too, she still hasn't gotten over the fact that I dumped her half way through sixth year.

I can't believe I'm actually considering this. No, I'm not, I'm merely pointing out the reasons of why I won't be with him. Right.

But oh god, he's such a good kisser! And his smiles are beautiful, and he's funny and sweet and…and oh for fuck sake!

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One week. Well, almost a week, it's only Saturday if you want to be all technical about it. Okay, so five days; five entire days have passed since that kiss – well, those kisses – and I still can't get Draco out of my head.

Oh dear, Ron's just let out the snitch; that means I have to concentrate. I kick off, flying into the air as I watch the rest of the team practice below. Ron's only let out the snitch so I can practise; the rest of the team will work on stuff without me, and then I'll be filled in on match details later. I don't mind, there's not much for me to do down there anyway.

I speed up a little, doing a few warm up laps whilst keeping an eye out for the elusive snitch. I love flying, it's one of my favourite hobbies, and I always feel so- so relaxed, so free up here. I dip my broom, going into a sharp dive as I catch sight of a glint of gold; I know it's not the snitch, the practice snitch is silver, but it gives me a perfect excuse to practise a dive anyway.

I love dives, the exhilaration is the best thrill you will ever find and also a very good cure for thinking problems; the thing being that you simply can't think whilst in a dive, it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything other that not bloody well falling off and dying.

I pull out the dive just in time, feeling my toes skin over the grass as I climb into the air again. I go slower this time, actually looking for the snitch instead of just warming up. I do a loop in the air, chasing after a glint of silver which disappears quickly down the other end of the pitch. I speed up as I follow it, weaving in and out of other players as the snitch as gone lower.

Ah, there it is, speeding- downwards? I dive to follow it, praying that it will not sharply turn, but of course it does and I have to quickly pull up and roll over in the air to be able to turn and follow it.

It's gone, typical. I fly higher again, watching the practise below me for a few moments to see how they're doing. They're doing a shooting practise, seeing who can get as many goals in a time limit. It gives Ron time to practise and even the beaters can take part because it partly improves their aim; which is always helpful if we want the bludgers to fly away from us.

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Monday morning. You know how I hate Mondays, right? Well, today is a particularly horrible Monday, because not only did I not sleep well last night (and of course I also had another dream with him in it) but I also just found out we are being partnered up in Potions. And I know that fate is being prissy; therefore I am going to end up with Malfoy.

"Miss. Granger, Mr Zabini,"

I shoot Hermione a pitiful look as she frowns, moving to sit next to the Slytherin at the front of the room. Poor her, I just hope he doesn't try anything. Snape is smirking now; I bet he thinks that this is my worst nightmare. It's not. My worst nightmare is participating in a threesome with Voldermort and Draco, but let's not get into that because the thought of just Draco alone- no, no, no, no, no!

"And last but not least, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy,"

Draco knew it was coming too, and was already half way across the classroom when Snape read our names out. He sits down beside me, pulling out his cauldron and book; I'm glad we're using his cauldron because not only is it better quality (one of the perks of being a Malfoy) but I forgot to wash mine out after last time, and mixing anything in it could have proved dangerous. I don't fancy bright green hair, or an overly large nose thank you very much.

"I'll get the rest of the ingredients," he says, and I nod once before setting up the cauldron and lighting a small blue flame below it. I add some water, leaving it to boil as I begin to chop one of the roots that he had pulled out of his bag, checking the instructions quickly to make sure I remembered the size correctly; 1cm thick, even cuts.

Draco's returned, and is slicing his own ingredient; don't ask me what it is, I've never been good with potions. He is though, and over the next half an hour or so we only speak to discuss the potion, Draco often giving me instructions or correcting a mistake.

"For goodness sake, Potter, stop mutilating that poor leech," he says, prizing the small knife out of my hand. He is smirking, though it is more out of humour then anger or hatred, and begins to cut the leech himself.

"There, do you think you can manage the next one?"

"I'm sure I can, thank you, I wouldn't want you to break a nail,"

Ah, I think he took that the wrong way. His face is a stony mask again, and he drops the knife to the desk and steps away. I also notice he's pounding the seeds just a little harder than necessary, but who am I to talk?

I sigh, picking up the knife to cut the next bloody leech.

"Sorry," I mumbled "I didn't mean it like that," I run a hand – the one that's not covered in the disgusting stuff that comes out of leeches when you cut them – through my hair, scowling as I cut a chunk of the fucking leech too big.

"I just don't like Mondays much,"

"I think that's a little bit of an understatement," he's smiling a little, and I smile back, so I guess everything's okay. Well, almost okay, we're still pretty tense after that whole kissing thing; no, I still haven't figured out what to do about it all. I really don't know.

I add the leeches to the potion, and it bubbles a little before turning a pale shade of blue. I can't even remember what we're making, I realise as I stir the damn thing three times clockwise.

"Harry!" Draco reaches over suddenly, grabbing my hand to prevent me from stirring any more "pay attention! You've already stirred three times, don't bloody well stir more!"

I blush a little, moving my hand away from the potion; although I keep it there a little longer as Draco's hand lingers on my own before dropping his hand to his side again.

I reach over to grab a jar of some green plant or other; and my hand brushes over Draco's who reached out at the same time. My hand comes to rest on top of his on the jar, and I turn to look at him.

Oh god, he has the nicest eyes.

A harsh cough brought us back to reality, and blushing I removed my hand, grabbing instead the jar sitting next to the one with the plant. Draco smiles knowingly, then smirks up at Snape who is standing with his brows raised by our desk.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for delaying Mr. Malfoy in his attempts to make the potion,"

I glare at him angrily, opening my mouth to make an angry retort; only Draco got there first.

"Actually, Professor, I grabbed the wrong ingredient; Harry here realized just in time and stopped me before I could open the jar, which would have caused the herbs to dry out too quickly."

I smiled innocently, nodding along to Draco's story – where the hell did he learn to lie like that anyway? Snape mumbles something under his breath and stalks off, leaving me to gape at Draco; who merely shrugged and opened up the jar we had both reached for.

I turn to Hermione, who I just know is staring at me, and yes, there she is. She has this calculating look on her face, so I just shrug at her and give a little smile. This only makes her frown, and she cocks her head to one side as her eyes fly wide open. Then she simply smiles at me. Weird one that; Hermione I mean.

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Saturday. Saturday. Saturday. What was so important about Saturday again? I open my eyes, rolling onto my back to stare up at the redness that surrounds my bed. Saturday…Quidditch!

I groan aloud, rolling back onto my side. I don't wanna' play quidditch, don' wanna'! But I know I have to, else Ron will be mad as hell, so I slowly drag myself out of bed. I shower slowly, and get dressed in a lazy fashion before join Ron to wait for Hermione in the common room.

"Oh come on, eat something Harry! You need the energy!" Hermione nags, pushing a piece of toast onto my plate. I scowl at it, trying to set it alight with my eyes, then reluctantly bite into it.

"Ron! Ron! Harry, Ron! You won't believe this!" Seamus came darting at us, coming to a stop opposite us and sitting down.

"Malfoy isn't the Slytherin seeker!"

"WHAT?" Ron cries, leaning forward "What do you mean, Malfoy isn't the seeker?"

"Exactly what I said," Seamus replies, scowling darkly "they only just announced it this morning; they say it was finalized a few weeks ago, only it was supposed to be a secret so they didn't tell anyone. He's been kicked off the team because they say he's going against them, and they won't tell anyone who the new seeker is!"

My heart stops dead in my chest. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. This is even worse; they've been training a new seeker, one that we don't the talent or habits of, and I have guarantee of beating him. Also, with Malfoy gone, I have no idea how safe I'll be; at least Draco wouldn't have tried to slaughter me half way through the match. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

"I don't believe it," Ron is saying beside me, the rest of the team gathering around him as the news begins to spread "I don't believe it; we're not prepared for someone else, we're prepared for Malfoy,"

"Harry will manage either way," Daniel Spouter spoke up – he's one of our chasers; a tall fifth year with lots of talent and little brains.

"Yeah, you'll be fine," one of the other players patted my back. Will I? What will you say if I loose? I don't know what I'm up against, I'm not so confident; why the hell are you all looking at me as though I'm going to win?

I try to smile at them, and they all grin back before returning to their seats. Oh yes, they're all fine, they're well prepared. Well, I guess I'll just take this match how it comes, I'm sure I'll be able to handle pretty much anything the Slytherin team throw at me. As long as it's not a two ton bludger with spikes sticking out of it. Shudder.

I glance over at the table of snakes, spotting my favourite seventh year. He's looking rather…well, usual; he's wearing a mask, I can tell that much, but I can't read into him at all. He looks up, easily being able to tell when I'm looking at him, and attempts a small smile – but it doesn't work, and soon he's leaving the hall.

I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is for him, being kicked off the team. I guess it was the Slytherins' pay-back, seeing as they couldn't attack him in any other way without their motives being questioned. I scowl darkly, glaring at the Slytherin team who are all sat together – minus a seeker - and looking proud. I'll win, I'll win just to prove that they were stupid for kicking Draco off the team. I'll win, and I'll do it for Draco. They will live to regret they're decision, because Draco was the only competition I seem to get these days.

But I will miss playing against him. I'll win anyway.

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"Harry, listen to me," Hermione lectures, as we make our way to the changing rooms by the pitch "you have to stay on your guard, this new seeker will most likely do anything to win the game,"

I nod in understanding, even though I already know all this. I'm not completely dumb, but I am nervous so I'm glad she's trying to help.

"Don't let them confuse you," she says "keep your eyes out for the snitch, watch your back, and just try to end the game as quickly as possible,"

I nod again, and she waves goodbye after hugging Ron, proceeding to make her way towards the stands.

"Don't worry, mate," Ron says, clapping my back "this new seeker won't be half as good as you; Malfoy was the only competition you've ever had, so they've only made it easier for us to win. Serves Malfoy right though, being kicked off the team; he didn't earn his spot in the first place,"

"But he was good player!" I snap, jumping in at Draco's defence. Ron raises his eyebrows at me, then nods slowly.

"Yeah, he was a good player. But he's also a bloody git. It's Malfoy, Harry, you can't deny that he's a bastard. I mean, I know you keep telling me to be nice to him; I mean look; it's not like I fight with him anymore. But you can't change who he is; he always was and always will be a slimy little Slytherin stuck up bloody prick who looks out only for himself,"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I'll never convince him otherwise, I know that.

"You can think what you like, Ron, but…ah, I don't know. Let's just go get changed,"

He grins at me, and we set off walking again, only to be stopped when I hear someone shouting my name.

"Harry! Harry!"

Ron and I both turn around spotting Draco coming our way. Ron scowls angrily, pulling out his wand, and I roll my eyes before telling him to go on without me.

"Go on, Ron, I'll meet you there."

"Harry-…"

"Go! I'll be fine,"

Ron looks sceptical, but he nods and leaves anyway. I sigh, then turn to face the blonde Slytherin.

"Hi, Harry. How are you feeling?"

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Well, I'm about to play in a quidditch match with no idea who my opponent is, with everyone expecting me to win anyway and the Gryffindor house pride resting on my shoulders, so I'd say nervous at best,"

He smiles at me, rolling his eyes.

"Don't be so dramatic," he drawls, stepping closer "it won't be that bad. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I was worried what they would do to me-…"

I shake my head, cutting him off.

"No, it's all right. Your safety is more important than a quidditch match, Draco,"

He smiles even wider, and I blush, averting my gaze.

"It's Brooks, a third year,"

"What?"

"Their new seeker; it's Kyle Brooks, a shrimpy little third year with bad aim, worse catching skill and little to no flying technique."

I smirk a little – dear god, the blonde Slytherin is rubbing off on me – and slowly nod.

"I think I know him, he was a substitute last year. He can't play well at all…is that really who their new seeker is?"

Draco nods, smirking. "They're stupid buggers, in my opinion; I mean, who in their right mind would pass up my undeniable talent for that of a scrawny third year who plays like a flying pig that's lost its wings?"

I can't help but laugh, glad to see some of the old Draco reflecting through. I nod to him, smiling one last time.

"Thank you for telling me, Draco. I have to go,"

He nods, and I turn to leave, walking slowly away.

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?" I stop, but don't turn back.

"Good luck,"

I grin widely, and turn to reply; only he's gone, and I have a quidditch match to win.

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I duck, flattening myself down onto my broom as a bludger skims over me, and then straighten up and quickly move away from that spot. Dear god, these people are trying to kill me, I swear; I have bludgers flying at me left right and centre.

Seamus, one of our beaters, has taken to flying not too far from me, taking care of any stray bludgers that pass my way, but the odd one keeps getting past. The other beater, a sixth year that I can't remember the name of, is working on the other team members like she was told to in the original plan, but she's not much help to me down there!

I glance around the pitch, trying to spot that tell tale flash of gold, but see nothing other than the figures of the two teams. Draco was right about the new Slytherin seeker, and he is still as crap as I remember him to be; only now he can fly in a straight line, and has earned Gryffindor two penalty shots for trying to sabotage my broom. Cheating little bastard.

Ah, there it is, down by the Slytherin chasers. I dive down, dodging between the other players as I chase after the snitch, which has now veered right and is heading over to the stands. I can hear the uproar from the crowd, and I know that Brooks isn't too far behind me, but I got the head start and am nearly there.

I duck another bludger, cursing as I turn a little of course, but quickly pick up the trail again as the snitch soars upwards. I follow again, reaching out my hand as my fingers skim over the smooth surface and then-…and then I can feel my broom being yanked hard, and I immediately return my hand to the wood so I can grip on tight as the other seeker pulls on the other end of my broom.

I've already lost sight of the snitch, and now my first priority is not falling off and plummeting to my death, so I quickly level out, no longer flying upwards. Brooks is flying along side me now, grinning manically at me, so I casually flip him the finger.

"Not so cocky now, are you Potter? What's the matter, lost your touch?"

"No, not really," I reply, yelling over the noise from the stands "only I prefer to go up against real quidditch players that have talent, you know? Playing against a third year is hardly any fun, and their lack of witty comments is really quite off putting,"

I grin as his smirk falters, and I give a little wave before darting off again, cursing under my breath. I was so damn close…

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I touch down upon the ground, still clutching the little snitch in my right hand as the spectators gather around me, cheering loudly. I'm swept along in the mass of people towards the rest of the team, and am swallowed in hugs before I can even say anything.

I spot Draco, hovering by one end of the pitch; leaning up against the goal posts casually and uncaring, though it's obvious he's trying not to be spotted by too many people. I grin at him, and he gives me a small nod and a smile before my vision is clouded by the many eager fans.

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Monday mornings. Monday mornings, I have decided, are even more terrible then I previously made them out to be. The previous night was interrupted by not one but two dreams; both involving Draco and whipped cream, and both followed by a very cold shower in the middle of the night.

Then, I was accosted by Hermione; who reminded me that I promised to study with her tonight; how she ever got me to agree to that I'll never know. Then Ron knocked the jug of Pumpkin juice all over me, and it took me a good ten minutes to notice, plus a further five to remember the incantation to a simple cleaning charm, and now I'm running ten minutes later for Potions.

"I'm going to kill Ron," I mumble under by breath, skidding around another corner and wincing as my bag bangs violently into my hip as I set off again. He had needed help with an essay due in for his next lesson, and I of course was the only one available to help him. We had to go to the library for a resource book, and I was forced to run all the way from the library to the Dungeons when I heard the bell ringing.

I smacked forcefully into another figure, landing on the floor in a painful position. I groaned, picking myself up, and mumbling a quick apology to the other person.

"Not again! I'm sorry, I wasn't-oh, Draco,"

Draco shook his head a little before standing, obviously a little bit surprised, and then began to grin at me.

"What are you doing out of class?" I ask, picking up my bag; you know, I'm getting a small feeling I've been in this situation before.

"Looking for you,"

I raise my eyebrows, looking curious "and why, pray tell, were you looking for me?"

Draco shrugs before answering "I didn't see you in the line outside of class, so came looking for you. And it seems that I've found you,"

I blush, averting my gaze. "You didn't have to come looking, I'm just running a little late is all,"

He shrugs again, and together we set off walking at a steady pace back to class.

"You know, there was another reason I came looking for you,"

"What's your other reason?" I ask, shifting the weight of my bag a little on my shoulder.

"I wanted to catch you alone for a bit,"

I blush again at this, as the statement conjured up some rather naughty mental images that represented the events that could follow a statement such as that.

"Why?" I ask slowly, looking over at him.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your win on Saturday,"

I look away. That wasn't what I was hoping he would say; I had done a lot of thinking over the weekend, and come to one conclusion; I liked the kiss and I like Draco. Simple, I had thought. But things are never that simple for me.

"But also because I wanted to do this,"

And he's kissing me again, only this time it's slow and sensual, with more feeling than before. He pulls the bag from my shoulder and lets it drop to the floor, then backs me up against the wall. I don't object in the slightest, and one of my hands jump to his hair as his snake their way underneath my shirt. He runs his tongue gently along my bottom lip, causing me to moan and give him ample time to slip into my mouth.

The kiss becomes heated, his fingers leaving a hot path on my skin from where they're teasing my chest and back, and his hair becoming messed up and his tie loose as I reach to undo the knot. My other hand finds his hip, rubbing circular motions there on a patch of skin, and as our tongues caress the other another moan is heard, but neither of us are sure who it was from.

He pulls back when air becomes a necessity, and I am unsurprised to find that the only reason I'm still standing is that his arm around my waist is supporting my weight. My mind is a little clouded to begin with, and the first word out of my mouth was a simple, if a bit husky;

"Wow,"

Draco chuckles a little, and a blush began to spread to the parts of my face not already flushed from the kissing. He kisses my nose softly once, and then we both just look at each other, my forehead resting against his.

And for the first time since the beginning of the year, that little 'no' is almost unheard, like a singular voice straining to be heard over a crowd of others. Oh, it's still there, telling me that no, this is wrong and no, I shouldn't be doing this. But the crowd is saying something different, so it's unnoticeable if a pretend to be just a little bit deaf, right?

Mondays are absolutely terrible, eh? I stand corrected.

I have no idea how I got here, and I have no idea where this will go, but I am quite sure I am doing the right thing; and even if I'm not, no; I don't care, because no is just a two letter word and I know a better word which beats it every time.

And, pulling him down again with intent to snog his brains out, I finally decided to start saying yes.

A/N; Ah, well, that's this finished. I hope you liked it, I have no idea where it came from so...(shrug). Reviews are appreciated! By the way, there may be a sequel to this, as I have another idea of where the relationship leads to and how they break it to Harry's friends and stuff…let me no what you think.