"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco winced at the sound of his full name. He'd just taken a seat in front of the common room fireplace, looking forward to relaxing a bit before supper. Pansy stalked in, arms crossed and huffing. She immediately approached Draco, standing before him accusingly.

"Yes?" He responded, wondering what the hell she was on about.

"Do you want to explain to me why I happened to see you and Potter together after I left Divination earlier?"

Draco froze. They had walked with each other in between classes earlier, taking the risk of being seen as acquaintances. Perhaps it was an ignorant and dumb decision on Draco's part, but all thought seemed to be clouded in Harry's presence. At the time it had seemed harmless to walk with him; it wasn't a crime to be cordial with the Chosen One, was it? He quickly formulated a reply.

"Yes, I spent some time with Potter before class." Draco nonchalantly eyed his fingernails, playing apathy.

"So what, have you decided to become best friends with the enemy?" She scrunched her nose up in distaste, bringing out her pug-like features.

"Hardly." Draco paused to meet her scrutinizing gaze.

"Well, What then? You've always hated him! The Draco I know wouldn't be caught associating with a bloody Gryffindor!"

"Pansy." He stood up, eye to eye now. They were alone, and Pansy gulped at the sudden closeness. "Has it never occurred to you that the Dark Lord has plans that require befriending the Chosen One?" His voice was sharp, condescending.

Pansy's eyes widened, absorbing the information before her.

"Draco- you don't mean... did he ask you to..." she stammered, unsure of what exactly she was trying to ask.

"Yes," was Draco's reply, and the two were silent for a moment.

"What an honor..." Pansy trailed off, pride replacing her frustration. Her father was a known Death Eater, and she fully planned on following in his foot steps. Draco being in close circles with He Who Must Not Be Named himself only made her fancy him more.

"Yes, well, I suggest you mention nothing of this to anyone." Putting Pansy on a pedi stool, making her feel more important than all others, was just the right way to make her mind her own business.

She reached upward, fixing Draco's collar with both hands. "Oh, Darling. Of course not. I would never betray you or anything that you stand for." She flashed her infamous Pansy smile, seductive as hell but of no use to Draco or his gay persona. "Don't forget about Friday," she continued, running a finger along his tie. She pecked his cheek before exiting to the girl's dormitory.

Friday? Bollocks, Draco had completely forgotten he was supposed to spend the evening with Pansy and Blaise, Slytherin style. He only hoped that Harry wasn't planning on anything for the two of them. Shrugging the thought, he headed to the washroom to get ready for supper.

Pansy spent the rest of the evening up Draco's arse, to put it quite frankly. Now that she thought he was an up and coming Death Eater, her affection was piqued. They entered the Great Hall arm in arm, a smug grin upon her face. Immediately, Draco shot Harry an apologetic look across the room, and Harry nodded in understanding.

Ron turned around in his seat to follow Harry's gaze. "Ay, you reckon Malfoy and Parkinson are shagging?"

"Gross, of course not," Harry replied, instinctively making a face but catching himself a bit too late. Luckily, Ron wasn't the most observant bloke in all of Scotland.

"Which one? They're both pretty vial if you ask me," came back Ron, smirking to himself.

At this, Harry laughed. "I suppose you're right, Ron."

A grunting noise could be heard a few seats down. "The real question is," piped up Seamus Finnigan, "Who is Harry shagging?"

Ron lifted his fork in agreement. "Yeah, mate, who's the lucky girl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," denied Harry, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Please, Harry. You don't think we haven't noticed you arriving to lessons with seconds to spare, all disheveled and bearing that 'just been snogged' look?" Seamus observed, putting the unwanted spotlight right on Harry.

"S'Alright, mate. You've got nothing to hide. I don't know if you want that arsehole to know-" he gestured toward Seamus playfully, "but you can tell me."

"Oh, come on, Weasley. If anything, he needs my help. I've got loads of snogging experience, y'know," Seamus winked confidently. Seated next to him was Dean Thomas, who up until now had been focusing on reading some type of muggle book. It wasn't until that very moment that Dean chipped in: "Your mother doesn't count you know, buddy."

Harry and Ron busted out in fits of laughter as Seamus attempted to retort: "Maybe not, but yours does!"

Even Hermione, who had been eating her food silently while studying Hogwarts: A History cracked a smile. She had been trying to stay uninvolved, aware that Harry had no intentions of divulging his secret. Ron draped an arm around her as the joke settled, shifting his attention with a gleam in his eye.

"Anything interesting happen in that book yet?" Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to be coy, but Harry could see her cheeks were tinted a rosy pink. It seemed to be, for the most part, a normal evening at the Gryffindor table.

Harry was excited to see Draco the following morning on his way to Magical History. They had met in what had somehow become their usual spot in an alcove near the grand staircase, and Draco had decided to lead him to a more private location in an unoccupied corridor. There were kisses, short and sweet, and hands caressing each part of the other. And then there was running, as Harry was bound to be the more tardy of the two.

On their way to potions a short while later, Draco proposed that they try to meet at the edge of the lake after lessons were over for the day. "You know, to make up for the time I accidentally ditched you." Harry reassured him that it was fine, but in any case, he'd be happy to meet him. And so the minutes ticked by in slow succession, one right after another, while Harry daydreamed of pale cheeks and blonde hair.

He seemed to be getting by at the least, until Defense Against the Dark Arts. He prayed that Snape wouldn't call on him, though he had actually done the reading from the previous night. To be honest, he just wasn't in the mood for losing house points, which would inevitably occur even if he had the correct answer. They shared this class with the Hufflepuffs, who weren't the most fond of Professor Snape, either, though in their kind demeanor would never mention it. They had, in fact, made prime targets for the Professor, and the class altogether lost more house points than any other lesson in the castle. Inevitably, Snape would bully the defenseless Puffs, and the Gryffindors would try to stand up for them honorably. And then everyone would lose points- Gryffindor for butting into another student's business, and Hufflepuff for not handling their own problems. Not today though, Harry resolved. Today he had something to look forward to, and nothing was going to change that.

Snape entered the room, robes trailing as he cantered toward the front of the class.

"I assume you all did your reading?"

There was a series of nods, almost in unison. Snape turned abruptly, placing both of his hands on the desk nearest him sharply. "Potter!" He looked beyond the student nearest him to meet eyes with the Chosen One behind them.

"What is historically the most well known use of vampire's blood?"

Harry cleared his throat and spoke clearly. "It is used infamously for an ancient dark magic ritual that could supposedly be used to bring someone back from the brink of death."

To his left, Hermione was beaming at her best friend's correct answer. Unsatisfied, Snape turned without a word and wrote "Sanguinem Immortalem" on the board. Without commenting on his answer, Snape turned to Harry: "Meet me after class, Potter."

Harry sighed. It didn't seem to matter what he did, Snape would never not hate him.

"And what is the resulting difference between this ancient ritual and the act of drinking unicorn blood?"

Hermione raised her hand immediately, but Snape had other plans. "Macmillan!"

"Umm, well..." Ernie began, searching for his confidence. Harry observed Hannah Abbott, who sat next to him, elbow him straight in the ribs. This seemed to help him immensely.

"When one drinks unicorn blood, they lead somewhat of a half life. They are never really human. The ritual using the vampire blood allows the person to remain human, but the lasting result is that the person can no longer feel the emotion love."

Snape, who had no retort, began to write more about the subject on the board. Hermione lowered her hand, defeated.

"10 points to Hufflepuff." Snape muttered, barely audible but just enough to cause whispered excitement on the left half of the room. Ron, on the other hand, was livid that Harry's answer had gone unrewarded. Harry wasn't surprised and found himself not bothered in the slightest by the inequality. He was shocked, however, by what happened next.

Ernie's hand shot up as if it were Hermione's. Snape, startled by the unexpected move, stepped backward. "Yes, Macmillan?"

"Believe me, sir, we are all very grateful for your kindness, but wouldn't it be fair if Gryffindor was awarded points as well?"

Snape stopped, forehead creased, and slowly began walking toward Ernie. Harry placed his face in his palm. Those damn Hufflepuffs and their fairness and loyalty and bloody hell Snape was going to blow a gasket...

"Fine. You want fair, Hufflepuff?" He spat maliciously, "10 points from both houses. You can call that...equality."

Hannah ribbed Macmillan again, for slightly different reasons. The rest of the lesson was accompanied by an even more sour attitude than the Professor had worn before. And, Harry cringed, he still had to stay after class. What in the hell had he done this time?

When class ended, Harry approached the professor's desk cautiously. Hermione and Ron shot him a worried look before exiting, leaving the two alone.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry began, unsure of what to expect.

"It has come to my understanding that you-" His glare burned into him thoroughly- "Have formed a... relationship... with one of the students in my house."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and there was an audible squeak as a result. His heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his mind tried to understand how in the hell Snape had found out about Draco. "Sir, I-"

"Don't. Lie to me." Snape threatened, an edge of urgency in his words. "I know the two of you are involved. And I personally couldn't find it to be more...revolting."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed, anger taking the place of fear. Snape didn't give him a chance to respond.

"...but that's not why I'm wasting my time approaching you about this. You must understand, Potter, the risk you are both taking."

"I'm aware of that, but to tell you the truth, I don't care." Harry's Gryffindor attitude was at the forefront. Bravery and stupidity at its finest.

"Are you telling me you won't care when Lucius Malfoy severely punishes, or even kills Draco for being involved with you?"

"That's not what I meant! I just mean that I- I won't let that happen to him!"

"You must understand that this world is bigger than just you, Potter. You won't always win. You can't always win. And when you lose, you don't want the person you love to pay the price." There was hidden meaning behind Snape's words, Harry could tell. It was as if he was speaking from direct experience. It was as if, somehow, he'd lost someone because of his own mistakes. Someone he loved.

Harry's expression softened, wrapping his head around the concepts before him.

"I can't not have him. I- I don't know what I'd do without him."

"Well, it would be smarter if you didn't 'have him.' Remember, we are at war."

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"You are dismissed, Potter."

Harry turned to leave, passing a younger Slytherin on the way out. Snape's intervention left him feeling odd, out of place even. He should feel enraged, appalled at the man's interruption. Instead, he felt sympathy for the man, wondering who exactly he had lost and what it had cost him. His words were ringing in his ears, echoing repeatedly: "It would be smarter if you didn't have him."

The rest of the day passed in a haze.