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'.
Gilmore Girls and How I met your mother quotes alert in this chapter too. ;-)
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...
Harry Potter seemed to spend most of his time running down the corridors of Hogwarts castle. Usually, his headlong rushes were caused from being late for class or detention, or trying to hide from Filch on his occasional night-time wanderings. But last night, it had been completely different. Last night, he'd been truly terrified.
He could handle the anger of his teachers for being late, and he could live through a scolding from Filch. What he couldn't handle was the burning that he'd still felt on his skin from Draco's touch as he'd fled the Great Hall.
He had run directly to his dormitory, not stopping until he'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, his face a brilliant shade of red, his glasses slightly askew, and his hair as messy as ever.
When the Fat Lady had asked him what was wrong, he had merely patted the top of his hair in a futile attempt to get it to lie flat, and panted out the password.
Even though the common room had been completely empty, all the students still enjoying the dance, he'd headed straight for his dormitory, taking the stairs four at a time.
He'd sprinted into the bathroom and frantically tried to undress without falling all over the place. This had proved to be quite difficult, his jeans being so tight they were practically moulded to his skin.
Once rid of all clothing, he had stumbled into the shower, immediately grabbing hold of the cold water tap and turning it on full blast.
He had snatched a bar of soap up hastily, beginning to scrub himself all over in attempt to remove the feeling of Draco's touch still burning his skin.
It had been of no use.
No matter how hard he'd scrubbed, the bubbling and bursting had refused to cease. Under the icy water, the fire had even reached his bones as well, causing him to shake uncontrollably and allowing the bar of soap to slip from his quivering fingers.
After this, he had given up, emerged from the shower, shivering, and quickly got dressed into his pyjamas.
He'd collapsed on his four-poster and drawn his bed hangings closed around him, not wanting to be disturbed by his dorm mates when they returned. He had buried himself under his covers, his head sinking into the pillows, accepting that the bubbling and bursting of his skin wasn't going to end.
At first, he had been disgusted with himself by what he had done with Malfoy on the dance floor, but, lying in bed, he'd started to remember how good it had actually felt to be held by someone the way Malfoy had held him. That close to Malfoy, he had felt warm, comfortable and safe.
Staring up at his canopy, he hadn't been able to shake off the feeling that he was still close to Malfoy.
So close that he'd felt Draco's eyes shut as he himself had eventually fallen into an uneasy, troubled sleep.
It was now morning and Harry was sitting at the Gryffindor table, poking absentmindedly at the liberal amount of scrambled eggs that Hermione had piled onto his plate, insisting that he ate something, even after he had repeatedly told her he wasn't hungry.
"So, Harry, is Malfoy a good kisser?" Dean teased, causing Harry to snap his head up from gazing incessantly at his plate.
"What?!" Harry shrieked. "How am I supposed to know something like that?"
"Seamus said that you snogged Malfoy while you were dancing with him last night." Dean smirked, gesturing over to Seamus.
"Almost!" Seamus corrected. "I said he almost snogged Malfoy at the dance."
"You saw us!" Harry gawked at Seamus, going bright red from embarrassment.
"Well… yeah," admitted Seamus. "Blaise and I just wanted to check that you weren't attempting to strangle each other or anything. I must say what we saw was a vast improvement from what you and Malfoy usually do together."
"Oh god," Harry moaned, dropping his fork and burying his face in his hands. "I'm so embarrassed."
"Don't be embarrassed! This is great!" Seamus enthused, thumping Harry happily on the back.
"Clearly you and I differ very much on our perception of the word 'great'," Harry mumbled from his hands. "I almost snogged Malfoy!"
"Harry, as embarrassed and regretful as you are about what happened last night, I think that it did you a world of good," Seamus said, suddenly serious. It was just like the night before when they were heading down towards the Great Hall. Harry removed his head from his hands and stared at the Irish boy warily.
"Good?!" Harry panicked. "How could me almost snogging my arch-nemesis of six years possibly be considered as good?!"
"Well, I've never seen you let go like that before, nor have you ever looked so happy and relaxed since Voldemort's death." Seamus had made a valid point. Harry's friends had been desperately trying for months to get him to loosen up, and yet a moment in Draco Malfoy's arms was all it took.
"I don't think it's the fact that it's Malfoy that's bothering you, Harry. I think what's scaring you the most is that you let your guard down for a minute there, and actually had an enjoyable time," Hermione piped up, reaching over and shovelling pieces of bacon onto Harry's plate. "If you don't want any scrambled eggs, eat some bacon; you can't skip breakfast!" she added in a motherly tone that could match Mrs Weasley's.
"You need to forget about the past, Harry," Ron began, taking the plate of bacon after Hermione, and piling some more pieces onto his plate.
"You've had enough bacon, Ron!" Hermione scolded, snatching the plate from Ron's grasp. "I'm surprised you can still eat at this point, especially after all those sausages you just ate!"
"There's still room," Ron replied, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth to further prove his statement. "And if there isn't room, we'll add on. I know a good contractor."
Hermione huffed in response, placing the plate of bacon away from Ron's reach.
"Anyway, as I was saying," Ron continued, happily tucking into another piece of bacon, "things have changed. Voldemort's not alive; he's dead. Malfoy isn't your enemy; he's just someone you had a good time with at a dance. And most importantly, the fate of the wizarding world is not your responsibility anymore. It's time for you to take your life back."
Harry had to admit that Ron had also made a very accurate point, even though he had made it with a mouthful of bacon. Things were different now, especially where he and Malfoy were concerned.
"Exactly, Ron," Seamus agreed. "Harry, you gave up your life for the sake of our lives for such a long time, for pretty much your whole life even. But now, you don't have a duty anymore. You need to take your life back and start living. You don't have to please anyone anymore but yourself."
"I suppose you're right," Harry sighed, beginning to nibble at a small piece of bacon. "But I think that it's best that I steer clear of Malfoy from now on. As good as last night was, I don't think I could look at him in the eye ever again."
"Er… Harry," Seamus said gingerly, "Blaise and I have arranged to meet up in the library tonight, to do some studying."
"You mean you're not going to date him? You're just going to be friends?" Harry asked, remembering the way they had been drooling over each other the previous night.
"Well, Harry, the thing is, tonight is sort of… kind of… like a date." Seamus bit his lip, choosing his words very carefully. "So you and Malfoy will have to come along too."
Harry stared blankly at Seamus for a few moments before speaking. "I'm just going to go back to bed," he slowly began, standing up then heading for the exit, "because my head is about to explode and I don't want it to go over everyone's waffles."