Author's Note: I love reading your reactions. Thank you!

Chapter 6

Draco jerked back from Potter in surprise. Kiss? Nobody had said anything about kissing! Wasn't this harassment? Was this even allowed? Potter was looking at him strangely and Draco was sure he had a comical expression of panic painted his face, but he didn't care. This was mental! Even Snape had his eyebrows raised in supposed boredom.

"Any day now, boys," Snape urged vacantly.

Now Potter was leaning in and oh gods fucking hell what was Draco supposed to do what if he wasn't a good kisser what then would Potter laugh at him in front of all of these people what if—

Draco's heart almost stopped as Potter's lips brushed his… cheek.

Oh.

They both jumped off the platform and walked swiftly back to their bench, Draco leading the way. He could feel his face burning red as he tried to avoid Potter's stare. Shit. He felt absolutely ridiculous for the whole thing and tried not to think about how for a split second, he'd actually… thought— Draco felt his face heat up some more. No. Just block it out. He focused on watching the other couples instead, willing his fair complexion to turn back to its normal shade. Now Blaise and Granger were up and he kissed her on the cheek too (with an expression of slight disdain) before hopping off the platform and back to their seats. As did the next couple, and the next one, and the next one.

Well. So maybe Draco should have been paying more attention before, because then he would've known not to react as he did to the "you may kiss the groom" statement. Draco felt like an idiot, but at least nobody else could tell what his embarrassment was really about. Well, Potter might've, but when did Draco ever actually care what Potter thought of him? Ha. Even he had to snort at himself for that one.

Soon enough, the final couple was married and Snape stepped back from the platform. He looked weary and annoyed. "You are all now officially married," he drawled. "Congratulations."

Before anyone could even move, Snape had swept out of the room, robes billowing as he went. All of the students looked around at each other; some of them shrugged. It might as well be a dismissal—nobody ever really knew with Snape. Students began to crowd around the exit, and most headed down to their own common rooms until it was dinnertime. Draco was one of them.

As soon as he was safely away from other people, Draco plopped into his armchair and stared moodily at the fire for some time. What was this stupid twinge in his chest? The annoying one that had been there ever since he'd gotten off that platform with the lingering feeling of Potter's lips on his cheek...? Draco shivered. He had thought that it would go away, that it was just embarrassment, but... honestly, it hadn't. But he knew that he shouldn't be thinking these things, especially not about Potter. Potter was... Potter. And sure, maybe Draco wouldn't have minded kissing the prat, but it didn't mean anything. Did it? The image of Potter whipping off his shirt made Draco's insides squirm again. Damn. Draco really needed to get laid or something.

Suddenly, the sound of two bodies slamming into the couch next to Draco snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up, shocked. Nott and the Weaselette (of all people!) were on top of each other, snogging ferociously. Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. What the fuck? Ew.

"Do you mind?" he snarled.

They both looked up at him, as if it surprised them that he was there. Hello, he had been here ages before them!

"What?" Nott asked. "We're in the honeymoon phase, Draco. Let us have a little fun. Besides..." Nott looked a little mischievous. "Shouldn't you be getting your honeymoon started with your poncy little husband?"

Weasley frowned. "Hey, don't call Harry a ponce," she clucked. "He's my friend."

Nott looked properly chagrinned. "Sorry, babe."

With that, they resumed to their previous activities and Draco didn't know whether to balk or vomit. He refused to leave—he was here first, damn it!—but now he was feeling rather uncomfortable with himself. Honestly, couldn't they find somewhere more private? And the nerve of Nott, implying that Draco should get it on with Potter... Never mind that Draco had been thinking it first, it was still wrong! Blaise came into the room then, took one look at Draco and the couple and smirked.

"Hey, Draco, let's go to the dorms," Blaise called out, winking at him. Draco happily obliged, trying not to run after him, and the two boys headed to their room. "So where's Potter?" Blaise asked nonchalantly. "Haven't seen him since class." He sat down on his bed. Draco shut the door and sat down next to him.

Draco shrugged. "Probably visiting Gryffindor," he said. "How should I know, anyways? I'm not his damned keeper."

Blaise smiled that knowing smile again. "No, I suppose you're not."

Draco narrowed his eyes at his friend, and a silent battle ensued between them. Blaise was trying to be subtle, but he was hopelessly horrible at it. They both knew it. "What is it you want to talk about, Blaise?" Draco asked tiredly, after a few moments.

"This is a fun project, isn't it? Kissing Gryffindors and whatnot."

Draco sighed. "You didn't look like you had fun kissing Granger," he pointed out.

Blaise raised his brows. "I would say the same for you about Potter, but it sure didn't seem that way earlier. You looked like you wanted it."

"What?" Draco spluttered. "I didn't want to kiss him! Why would you think that?"

Blaise grinned again. "I've read some of those questionnaires you filled out with Potter," he confessed. "They're pretty detailed." He jerked his thumb over towards Draco's trunk. "I particularly loved Potter's answers about relationships. Didn't you, Draco?"

Draco pursed his lips. Sure, some of Potter's answers had been sickeningly sentimental, but why would that reflect back on Draco? It wouldn't. All he'd done was write down the bloody responses. Besides, Blaise had no right to be rifling through his things. "That was none of your business, Blaise," Draco sneered. "And you should really focus on your own marriage, thanks."

"Don't you love being married?" Blaise smirked. "Now you can fuck with Potter whenever you want and you don't even need excuses to anymore."

Draco flushed angrily. "I have no idea what you're blabbing on about!" he shouted.

"I'm just saying. It's fine if you fancy him. He probably fancies you, too, in a weird, Gryffindor kind of way."

"What the fuck?" Draco cried. "I don't bloody fancy Potter!"

Somehow, Blaise managed to look both chagrinned and superior at the same time. "Really?" he asked. "Are you sure that you wouldn't want to get at that, at least once? I mean, it's completely understandable—"

"I swear, Zabini, if you utter one more word about Potter, I will rip your lungs out with my bare hands."

Blaise pouted a bit. "Fine. Arsehole."

During dinner, Draco sulked into his food, Blaise's words still echoing in his brain. Why would Blaise even suggest something like that? Draco hadn't made any advances at Potter, and he was certain that he would've noticed if the oaf had tried something on him. Draco sighed and picked at his plate. But was it possible that Potter fancied him, even a little bit? Would it really be that impossible? Would Draco mind it? He stole a glance at the boy sitting next to him, who was busy inhaling mountains of food as if he hadn't been fed in decades. First of all, ew.

Potter looked up at him. "What?" he managed, his mouth still full with who-knows-what. Draco wrinkled his nose. Potter definitely did not fancy Draco, and now Draco's appetite was completely gone, curse that bespectacled barbarian. Blaise was off his rocker.

~x~

The next day, Draco went through his classes without really paying any attention in them. His mind was full of other things—last night, for example. To prove a point to Blaise, Draco had deliberately looked away from Potter before bed to avoid having to watch the shirtless Potter show, but the gesture only seemed to fuel Blaise's fire further and the boy had smirked at him. Of course, Draco had scowled back, and Blaise winked—before walking over to have a chat with Potter. And that was the strangest thing: Potter and Blaise had been getting on really well since the House truce: Draco had seen them exchanging homework and laughing in the common room earlier. He hadn't known that Blaise was actually planning to go through with the be-nice-to-Potter ploy, but apparently, he was... At least Potter seemed relieved about the tentative friendship forming. And fortunately for Draco, it meant that Potter got to spend less time with his band of Gryffindors; namely, Granger and Weasley.

And now Draco was heading into Marriage Sex and Family, quite drained from a day full of jumbled thoughts. When he arrived inside, he immediately noticed Potter and his friends sitting on their bench and laughing about some stupid Gryffindor joke that wasn't actually funny. Draco just sighed and sat down at the other end. Honestly, he wished class would just be over already, and it hadn't even started. He wanted to go back to bed.

"Sit down."

Snape had entered the room with a large cabinet levitating behind him as he walked. Students scrambled to get into their seats before he got to the front of the room. "We have our next assignment," Snape drawled, setting the cabinet down carefully next to him before facing the class. "This will be long term and it will go on for the rest of the year. It shall be different depending on each pair. This cabinet has the magical ability to sense the aura of a partnership and will therefore choose the best possible assignment meant for the participants. We will have other assignments during the year, mind you, but this one will be an ongoing final. Now if you will all line up here in front of me, we shall begin."

Potter stood up with Draco and they took a place in line behind Nott and Weasley. Draco tried not to fidget too much; he didn't want Potter to think he was nervous again.

Potter cleared his throat. "So... what do you think the cabinet will give us?" he asked.

Potter was attempting small talk with him. Draco almost snorted at the prospect. How cute.

"I don't know," he replied.

"I reckon it'll be something terrible." Potter ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip. "You know how they hate us."

Draco had to agree. Fortune hadn't seemed to be on either Draco's or Potter's side lately. It was rather annoying.

Potter nudged him. "Er... and we have that after class question stuff to do today, right?"

Merlin, Potter was relentless. Draco sighed.

"As you have so articulately put it, yes, Potter. We do."

Finally, Potter had stopped trying, so Draco was free to watch what was going on at the cabinet (he had learned his lesson from last time to pay attention). Blaise and Granger were up now, each receiving a slip of paper and both looked relieved by it—Blaise even appeared a bit excited. Well, that was comforting. Sort of. Draco watched Longbottom and the weird blonde girl go up next to receive some distorted looking plant. Gross. Draco shook his head. After them, the Weasel and Pansy got a slip of paper, like Blaise and Granger had, but they both looked equally disgusted instead. Nott and Weaselette got a giant, dusty book, and even though Draco knew that Nott didn't enjoy reading, the boy had appeared as if Christmas had come early this year. Curious. Finally, it was their turn.

"Potter, Malfoy. Go on, reach in," Snape said, looking bored.

Draco and Potter looked at each other and shrugged, each putting an arm into one of the cabinet's drawers. Together, they pulled out a baby doll. Oh Merlin, no. Potter's expression matched Draco's thoughts. They both looked at Snape in question, and the professor's mouth was twisted into a sort of grimace that was clearly hiding a smile. Another bad sign.

"Clearly, you two desperately need to work on your team building skills. You will be taking care of a baby together," Snape announced. He still looked as if he was about to burst out cackling. The boys looked at each other in complete disbelief. Team building? Baby? Snape thought it was funny?

"The doll is enchanted to have the needs and wants of an actual child," Snape continued. "It is obviously not a real human being, but it is charmed to act like one. Your assignment is to merely keep the baby alive—together. Fail to do so and you will fail the course." Snape's smile was now evil. "Happy parenting."

Draco and Potter walked back to their seats, defeated, and people giggled and pointed at the baby doll cradled in Potter's arms. When they passed Blaise, the wanker had the nerve to whisper at them, "congratulations, it's a girl!", and motion to the little pink blanket and matching bow on the doll with a smirk. Draco flipped him the bird, and he and Potter took their bench. He tried not to look at either Potter or the doll for the rest of class.

~x~

That night, Draco walked into the classroom where he would meet Potter for questioning a little early, still in disbelief of what their assignment was. It was completely ridiculous—two teenagers taking care of a baby doll? How moronic was that? And two teenage boys, nonetheless. It was just unnatural. Draco typically loathed children; they were so needy and whingy and brutally truthful and Draco did not need this bullshit. Of course, he had never really had high hopes for this relationship with Potter, but add a baby into the mix, and it seemed near impossible. Yet, he couldn't do anything about it if he didn't want to fail out and forfeit his own right to graduate. Draco grit his teeth. Fucking Dumbledore. Before Draco could get too worked up about it, however, Potter had appeared in the doorway with the baby doll on his arm. All Draco did was roll his eyes at it.

"Let's get started," Potter said, upon coming in further. He adjusted the doll in his arms and sat down.

"Joy," Draco muttered, taking his seat as well. They both shuffled through parchments and mumbled for a while before Draco began the survey. "What is your life goal, Potter?"

Potter took a moment to think. "Uh, I don't know," he said. "I want to live a normal life, I guess. Graduate school, get a job, start a family. Nothing spectacular."

Draco understood that. After years of living such an erratic lifestyle, Potter had the right to want a little normalcy. "I'd have to agree with you on that," he remarked. "Settle down and live a quiet life. That sounds perfect."

Potter raised his eyebrows at Draco. "Really? I thought you'd want to be at the top of the wizarding society and all that."

Draco grimaced. "No, my father would have wanted me to do that, but it's not what I want."

"Don't you want to be like your father? Er, I mean, well you know, I didn't mean—" Potter had apparently realised what he'd said and was now babbling, shooting nervous looks at Draco in apology for his blunder. Draco didn't mind, he knew his father deserved to be in prison. Besides, Potter looked pretty damned sorry for what he said. And for some reason, Draco believed him.

"I'm not my father," he said, with a tone of finality that surprised them both. Or at least, it did Draco.

"I know that now," Potter remarked quietly, and it seemed that he really did. His eyes shone with that pureness again, baring it all in a way that only a Gryffindor could pull off. Merlin. Draco looked away.

The sudden cry of the baby doll broke their intense silence, and Potter hurriedly began to bounce it up and down in his arms, shushing. Draco was somewhat amused by it. He never would have thought that he would see the sight he was seeing right now; a gentle Potter cradling a baby doll and cooing like the thing was actually real. Draco bit his lip. It was a little endearing, in fact. He suddenly wished he knew how it felt like to be held like that. Had his parents ever done that? He didn't think so.

Potter was still bouncing the baby doll as he motioned to his book bag with his other arm. "Hand me that, will you?" he asked. Draco did so without complaint, and Potter pulled out a tiny bottle and put it to the doll's lips. It quieted right away. Potter sat back in satisfaction, green eyes watching the child intently.

"You got her a bottle?" Draco asked, incredulous. Seemed like someone was taking it seriously.

Potter blushed a little. "Hermione made it for her," he confessed. "I haven't got the first clue about parenting."

"Really? You seem like a natural," Draco mused, and then was quiet for a moment. "What are we going to name her?"

Potter looked up. "I don't know. What do you want to call her?" he asked.

Draco blurted it out before he could stop himself. "Rebecca."

"That's a pretty name." Potter smoothed his fingers over the doll's little blonde curls and his mouth curved up into a soft smile. "Rebecca."

Draco felt a mix between charmed and a bit silly, but he didn't particularly mind it. It was a strange feeling. New. Draco had never really seen this side of Potter before, and Draco had thought that he'd seen it all. "You'll make a great father one day," he blurted out, before he could stop and think about it.

Potter grinned, still gazing down at the doll with an enigmatic expression. "For once, Malfoy, I hope you're right," he said. "I really do."