Thanks to Sanguiyn my wonderful beta, who not only saves me from grammatical errors, but also dresses as a super hero when she does it.

Disclaimer:

Loosely based on '10 Things I hate about you', which was based on Shakespeare's 'Taming of the Shrew'.

You all know that I don't own the Harry Potter characters (JKR does). But if I did, something like this would happen to them...

Draco stepped reluctantly into the Great Hall with a huge frown on his face. He couldn't believe that he'd let Blaise talk him into asking Harry Potter for a dance. Blaise, on the other hand, was standing next to him gleefully, eagerly looking around for Seamus. He grabbed Draco's arm and forcefully pulled him further into the Great Hall.

"There he is," Blaise practically squealed in delight, pointing over to the far side of the room where Seamus was leaning against a wall, casually talking to Potter.

Draco didn't bother looking over to where Blaise had pointed. He merely just rolled his eyes and took after Blaise, who had started walking over towards them quickly without an ounce of hesitation.

Harry saw Blaise Zabini heading towards them before Seamus did. Remembering Blaise gazing at Seamus the other morning at breakfast, he immediately felt his stomach hit the floor. He wasn't ready to dance with someone yet. In fact, all he wanted to do was run back up to his dormitory and hide under the covers of his bed.

Seamus didn't notice Blaise's presence until he was directly in front of them.

"Care to dance, Seamus?" Blaise asked in a cavalier manner, gesturing to the dance floor and holding out his hand.

"That," Seamus replied, trying and failing to hide his delight, "all depends on if you can find someone to dance with Harry."

Harry was glad that the Great Hall was dimly lit, as a large blush had begun to creep onto his cheeks.

"As a matter of fact, I can find someone," Blaise grinned, pointing towards the crowd in front of them.

Seamus and Harry looked to were Blaise was pointing, and when Harry saw the unmistakable blonde head of Draco Malfoy weaving his way through the crowd with a scowl on his face, his jaw dropped.

His first reaction was that there was no way he could ever possibly dance with Malfoy, but then he remembered his promise with Seamus, and knew that deep down he didn't have the heart to disappoint his house mate.

Draco's scowl completely dropped off his face the second he eventually brought himself to look at Harry. "Fuck," he moaned under his breath, his eyes discreetly raking over Harry's body.

Draco Malfoy hated the way that people stared in astonishment at Potter, pointing at his scar and remarking on how much it defined him as a person.

The scar meant nothing to Draco. To him it was simply a mark on Potter's forehead that had no relevance whatsoever, especially since Voldemort was now gone.

Draco pretended that he loathed Potter being praised so much because he didn't like him; they had been after all renowned enemies up until this year. But the real reason was because he felt that there were far more admirable qualities that could be noted in the raven-haired Gryffindor.

Draco loved these things about Harry as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret. But he didn't like to feel things that were uncomfortable, emotional or in any way real, so he forcibly ignored these thoughts.

As Harry stood in front of him however, with his nervous smile spreading across his face and his unavoidable green eyes gleaming anxiously behind his glasses, Draco couldn't help but melt a little bit.

"How about it, Potter?" Draco asked as indifferently as he could, recovering from his initial shock and holding out his hand for him to take.

"S-Sure," Harry stuttered, not being about to manage to say anything else. Draco dragged him away from grinning Seamus and Blaise to the middle of the dance floor.

Harry didn't feel confident dancing at all, and was moving stiffly, not having much experience with the type of dancing that was happening around him. He highly doubted that he would ever be able to achieve the bumping and grinding actions of his fellow class mates.

Draco couldn't help but think how adorable Harry looked when he was nervous, so, without a second thought, he pressed himself up against Harry's back and rested his chin on his shoulder. Harry jumped a little at the sudden contact, but Draco merely placed his hands onto Harry's hips in order to keep him close.

"Loosen up, Potter," Draco whispered into Harry's ear, beginning to move Harry's hips back and forth in time with his own. "Just follow me now."

At first these actions made Harry just feel hot. But then it began to burn, and it burned from the inside. As Draco's hands wandered across his hips and sides, it was as though he was sizzling away Harry's flesh. It felt like Draco's hands had melted right into Harry's skin.

Harry remembered reading somewhere that being touched intimately by someone made you feel like you were in the midst of a happy dream, where everything seemed serene and placid; that the other person's caresses were like being stroked by a thousand soft feathers.

He couldn't help but think how wrong that was. When Draco touched him, he felt fire. Wherever Draco placed his hands, they would scorch his skin and leave burn marks. This burning sensation was so strong that Harry could still feel Draco's hands on the spot that Draco had touched ages after he had moved his hands elsewhere on his body. And he knew that when this moment ended and Draco stopped touching him, he would still be able to feel Draco's hands on him, as though they never left.

Draco closed his eyes as he began concentrating on the sensation that came with being pressed against Harry. He was discovering even more things that he could admire about the Gryffindor. The small of his back. The nape of his neck. The softness of his skin.

The second he touched Harry's skin, he couldn't take it. He wished the song would never end so that he wouldn't have to stop touching Harry. He moved gracefully against Harry, enjoying having his crotch pushed against Harry's arse as they ground against each other. Slowly, they began to move a little more. And with each movement, Harry began to press back against him more firmly.

After a particularly hard thrust, Draco accidentally let out a contented sigh in Harry's ear. This caused Harry to shiver and turn his head to look back at Draco. In doing this, Harry's nose gently brushed Draco's cheek.

It was Draco's turn to shiver, and he grasped Harry's hip and turned him around so they were dancing face to face, grinding against each other.

The feeling of Harry's chest pressed against his was almost too much for Draco, and he growled in response, his hands leaving Harry's hips completely to run up Harry's muscular back. They came to rest on Harry's firm, round arse. He gave the cheeks a gentle squeeze.

Harry slid his hands under Draco's shirt, running his fingers over the hard muscles and smooth skin of Draco's stomach, causing the blonde to gasp and tighten his hold on Harry's arse. They were now so close that Harry's hands, which had now reached around to Draco's back and were running up and down his spine, may as well have been Draco's own hands. Harry's hips, moving fluidly against Draco's, felt like they were now parts of Draco's body. And the strangled moan that escaped Harry's lips felt like it had just fallen out of Draco's mouth.

Draco gradually began to move one of his hands off Harry's backside. He slowly trailed it around to Harry's hip, up his chest and neck, and eventually came to rest on Harry's cheek. He caressed it lightly for a few moments, delighting in the way Harry's breathing became harder and blew against his own mouth. The feeling of Harry's breath ghosting against his lips was it for Draco. He eyed Harry's soft, parted lips wantonly, craving their feel against his own. His eyes slid shut and his hand on Harry's arse squeezed even tighter, pushing Harry closer.

Their bodies were like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that were never meant to fit.

Light and Dark.

Good and Evil.

Gryffindor and Slytherin.

But the pieces were now bending with each single beat of the music, slowly beginning to fit together as though they had always been made for it.

Harry had no objections to this, allowing his own eyes to flutter closed, eagerly awaiting Draco's lips to claim as his own as their bodies slowly began to merge closer and closer together.

He was just beginning to wonder whether he should just lean forward and catch Draco's lips in his own in order to speed the whole process up when everything suddenly came crashing down around them.

The music abruptly paused, filling the Great Hall with silence as the DJ changed records and the other students hushed, holding their breaths, eagerly anticipating the next song. The ringing of this empty sound was deafening to Harry and Draco. It made them both realise what was taking place between them.

Their minds slowly began to catch up with their bodies and they realised that they should stop. Their eyes opened in unison, and all the spotlights above the dance floor streamed back into their line of vision. They both stared incredulously at each other, as though they were seeing through their eyes for the first time.

With great difficulty they tore themselves apart, breathing hard.

Harry had no idea how he felt about the things that he had just done. His skin was still bubbling and bursting from Draco's touch even though Draco's hands were nowhere near his body anymore. He tried to say something to Draco, but forming a coherent sentence right now was a foreign task. All he could think was 'turn around and run'.

Draco was at a loss for words as well. He was torn between insulting Potter or apologizing to him, telling him that it was all a big mistake and that they should just forget that it ever happened. He was just about to open his mouth, to say something he still wasn't quite sure of when the next song started. At this sudden burst of loud noise, Harry abruptly turned on his heel and began fleeing the Great Hall, frantically pushing himself past all the bodies that had resumed their carefree dancing.