Disclaimer: If you think I own this…you're delusional. :) It belongs to JK Rowling.

A/N: Ahhh reviews are so satisfying. Special thanks AGAIN to brionyjae who has still been reviewing faithfully.

-Xxx-

Harry's friends looked up when he entered the room. "Woah" he had murmured faintly, apparently not realizing there actually were people in the room.

"Harry what happened?" Hermione asked; her face puzzled and motherly. Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean were all staring at him curiously. However it didn't take long for Seamus's face to break into a broad, knowing grin.

"Do you even have to ask?" he said, his beam reaching to either side of his face, "Harry's just hooked up!" he boomed. Everyone else in the common room looked up. Harry blushed so furiously that his face probably resembled Weasley hair.

"I have not, Seamus!" Harry said indignantly. Everyone else was gaping at him, clearly believing Seamus.

How did Seamus even find out?! Harry thought feverishly. He and Draco had not made out, they had not roughed around. It was a light, fluttering kiss. Harry's hair was no more messed up than it always was and his clothes were not ruffled in the least.

"Ahh, Harry, it was simply the look in your eyes, I know that look well. You don't need to look so confused." Seamus said; trying to conceal his laughter, around the room people started tittering. "Harry's found a lover." Seamus said to the rapidly gathering crowd. More giggles, less concealed than the ones before. Harry noticed even Hermione was doing a poor job at suppressing her mirth.

Harry sent glares to everyone, held his head high and said "I have not been 'hooking up', thank you very much." And with as much dignity as he could muster, he stomped upstairs. Behind him he heard them burst into hearty chortles.

Mutinous fiends! Harry thought furiously to himself, ripping off his tie, with so much viciousness that if ties could talk, this one would be screaming. How dare they just butt into his personal life like that! But Harry couldn't bring himself to be too mad; they cared about him, really. But they didn't have to laugh at him! Stupid bloody friends.

Down in the dungeons, Draco's friends' reactions were the complete opposite. When he walked into the room, muttering his awed "Woah" their chatter was stopped with irritation. They sent him a look that screamed 'Must you interrupt us?' but they politely (albeit stiffly; they are Slytherins after all) invited him into the latest scandal.

Draco contently sighed and sat down on the couch, leaning back with his hands behind his neck, his elbows sticking out on either side. Could life get any better? Harry holding his hand, Harry kissing him, the snow was lightly falling, and he was surrounded by the comforting, normal gossip that he wasn't needed to join in on. This was perfection.

Hogwarts awoke the next morning to a thin sheet of fluffy snow covering the grounds, and a chilly air surrounding the castle like dementors, but without the unhappy feelings. In fact, the atmosphere of Hogwarts today was all around cheery and contented, especially when it came down to two boys in their sixth year.

Harry's friends had decided to leave him be, having their fun last night, and even though they still smirked at each other whenever he was around, nothing was said. Harry happily smeared raspberry jam onto his toast, attempting not to look at the Slytherin table, and, by extension a certain gorgeous blonde boy, who also was in abnormally high spirits: much to the curiosity of his fellow Slytherins.

Harry's brave attempt clearly failed (A/N: valiant as his attempt was…it wouldn't be very interesting for us if he had succeeded would it?) He tried to make eye contact with Draco, but he was busy twirling his fork around his eggs, smiling absent-mindedly. Harry didn't like being ignored. He coughed loudly, a few people looked up, but Draco wasn't one of them. Harry therefore tried a different tactic.

"Seamus," Harry crooned, "be a doll and pass me the marmalade, pretty please?" This was said so flirtatiously and so un-Harry like, that the Gryffindors all stopped eating to gape at him. Harry didn't mind, because he got what he wanted, Draco's head jerked up angrily, and his eyes locked with Harry's. He saw victory dancing in Harry's eyes and Draco knew Harry had been joking, and for his sake too.

Stupid bloody Potter. Draco thought malevolently, but it was half hearted, who could stay mad when Potter flashed that smile? He stuck his tongue out, luckily no one saw. And he watched a very hormonal Finnigan passing Harry the requested marmalade. His hand brushed Harry's a bit longer than Draco would've liked and he held in a growl knowing that Harry had not been kissing Finnigan last night, he'd been kissing Draco. So there.

Draco could not wait to get Harry on his own again. Today was Monday, so he had to wait about two days, but he only had to get through one night. However this seemed unjustly long. They had so much to discuss. In a couple weeks Draco would be going back to the Manor for Christmas break. Harry would most likely be going to the Weasley's, so he wouldn't be lonely at Hogwarts, solitary or sad.

This thought did not completely cheer Draco up, because he was still Slytherin, and inevitably had a selfish side. His selfish side did not want Harry going to the Burrow. His selfish side did not want Harry having fun without him. Draco was a Malfoy, and everyone knows that Malfoy's are not forgotten about. It just wasn't right, god damn it.

"Draco?" an extremely high-pitched voice questioned into his right ear, Draco jumped. "We have to go to transfiguration, sweetheart."

Gag me with a stick, Pansy is so frustrating sometimes. A comfortable enough companion, but really, you'd think she'd give up trying to throw herself at you. Now where is our little Golden boy?

Draco agreed with the voice, where is Harry? He'd scurried off so quickly, without even a fleeting nod goodbye. Not even a look was thrown in Draco's direction. That was simply intolerable. Malfoy's do not get ignored. Stupid bloody Potter, who did he think he was?

"Yes Pansy, thank you." Draco replied irritably, and pushed himself up from the table, stocking out of the Great Hall, Pansy bounding girlishly behind him, trying to catch up, and probably grab his hand. Draco sped up.

Draco forced himself through transfiguration, but it felt like his hair was getting torn out strand by strand (which you can imagine was torture for Draco, with his vanity.)

The minutes passed as if they were years. If Draco weren't a Malfoy (which inevitably meant patient) he would be jumping up and screaming in frustration. Were normal days always this long? Even if it was a double transfiguration, it should not be this agonizingly long.

Kill me, kill me, kill me. The voice repeated the words throughout the entire class. By the end of class, it was almost in a sing-song voice. Even the usually rational voice was being driven to insanity. Stupid bloody transfiguration.

After what seemed like decades the class ended, and it was time to go for lunch. Draco could have danced if he wasn't the ever-composed Malfoy that he was. He walked as stiffly as he always would but inside he was skipping and frolicking.

He pushed open the heavy double doors and looked hungrily around the room for a sighting of our favorite messy-haired Gryffindor. There wasn't one. Draco was affronted, he himself wasn't perfectly on-time to lunch, however Harry was positively late.

No consideration, it's just plain rude. He should know that we are not just going to hang around all day.

But Draco figured even the voice knew that they most certainly would wait around all day if Harry didn't show up. Or maybe he'd just go looking for him. But for now Draco was hungry, so he sat down to refuel and wait.

Finally Harry walked through the doors; however he wasn't accompanied by Weasley and Granger, but by the Weaselette. This didn't make Draco very happy. He knew that Ginny was no competition for him, and he knew that Harry's kiss had meant something. What he didn't know was why a worm of jealousy was writhing and wriggling around in the pit of his stomach.

His light-hearted and sunny mood that he had had just this morning was suddenly becoming rather overcast and gray. Ginny was telling Harry something, a story, or a joke perhaps because her hands were flying about dramatically and Harry was laughing heartily, close to tears of mirth.

Draco didn't know what was so funny and he didn't want to know. Suddenly he wished he were back in Transfiguration again where Harry was simply absent. It was so much worse when he was right across the room but Draco couldn't talk to him, or make him laugh.

Ginny Weasley is a bitch.

The voice had a point, but Draco immediately regretted this thought. She was Harry's friend. If Harry liked her, then she couldn't be bad. So reluctantly, he let go of his anger, and settled into a soft state of loneliness.

He was foolish to believe that Harry would care for him the way Draco cared for Harry. It was naïve to think that things would change. Harry would fall back in love with Ginny and that feeling that something was missing would settle back into Draco.

He left the Great Hall feeling forgotten and trudged to the Potions classroom for his next class. He was early, he would be waiting there for half an hour before the rest of the class arrived, but he couldn't bear looking and Harry and Ginny any longer.

He absently wondered where Weasley and Granger had been. They should have been there, and then Draco wouldn't have minded so much. It wouldn't have seemed so wrong if they were there. Draco wouldn't have felt so betrayed.

Harry was late for potions, this was nothing new, but for some reason today it really struck Draco in the gut. Accusatory questions were circulating through his blood. Was he with her? Was it something innocent? Or was it something else? Was there hand-holding? Was there a kiss? Was there more than one kiss?

Draco please stop it with the questions, you're giving us a headache.

In Draco's opinion it was more like a heartache. He sat in his seat stiffly, counting the minutes Harry was late by. So far it was three, an innocent enough number but Draco knew they'd been alone together for thirty three minutes; this number was far more sinister.

Finally, at five minutes late he burst through the dungeon doors looking frazzled, but not thoroughly snogged. This made Draco feel a little better. Snape took ten points from Gryffindor and drawled lazily at Harry to take a seat.

Harry started walking towards Draco and for moments Draco didn't register what was happening, then with a horror he realized the seat beside him was the only available one for Harry to sit in.

Well crap. This could get interesting.

Draco straightened his posture a little bit more and nodded his head to Harry in acknowledgement of his presence. It was a cold, unfeeling gesture and Draco was proud of it. No emotions could be sorted through the wall that simple nod had built between them.

Harry who had expected at least a touch of warmth in Draco's eyes, felt bewildered. He figured it was nothing to worry about; he was just concentrating on potions was all.

He chose to ignore the cold breeze that drifted through Draco's eyes. For awhile they listened to Snape lecture and drawl about sleeping draughts. It wasn't difficult stuff, even Neville wasn't as worried as he would be. Snape instructed them to look for directions on page 247 and to make the potion with whomever they were sitting beside and hand it in at the end of class.

Harry turned to Draco and said politely "Want me to get the ingredients from the cupboard and you can warm up the cauldron?"

"Whatever Potter," Draco sneered at him, "let's just get this done quickly." He turned away and began to read the directions. Harry's bewilderment hit him again. What was wrong with Draco today? He stood uncertainly and went to the supply cupboard, revolving reasons for Draco's behavior around in his mind.

When he went back Draco had the cauldron ready and two knives set on the table, the instruction book lay in the middle of the table, open to the right page. Harry sat down and looked at Draco curiously, but Draco never turned to look at Harry. Either Draco had never felt Harry's gaze on him, or he chose to ignore it.

Harry felt rejected. Here he was, thinking he was falling for Draco and this is what happens? Harry was angry with Draco. Draco obviously just led Harry on for a bit of a laugh. It was idiotic to believe Draco could change. He was a Slytherin after all, and a Malfoy. Draco was just a cruel boy, bent on hurting Harry's feelings at any chance he could. It was sick.

They continued on in silence, a loud, screaming, accusatory silence that whipped blame at the two boys in every breath that was taken.

How many feelings does it take for a simple laugh directed at the wrong person and a simple nod that was just a little too unfeeling to send two people into tornadoes of emotion and confusion.

FW: Well then…this chapter is a little awkward.

Draco: Ugh I am not talking to him.

Harry: I can hear you idiot. And for the record I'm not talking to you either.

Draco: You just did.

Harry: So did you.

FW: ENOUGH. I'm sorry I was SO delayed on this one. Hope you don't hate me. Please review?