DISCLAIMER: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue. Everything else belongs to me.

WARNINGS: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.

A/N: September 18th - Happy birthday to me! So, am I allowed to dedicate this chapter to myself? :P Haha, just kidding! This is for all you lovely readers out there! I hope you enjoy this chapter; I certainly enjoyed writing it ... ;)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: STRATEGY

'Whoa,' Harry murmured when she, Ron and Hermione arrived at the Quidditch pitch on Sunday morning. They looked around with wide eyes at the two hundred or so students who were holding broomsticks and talking among themselves as they awaited their captain. The remaining minority of Gryffindor House seemed to have turned up, too; they were settled on the stands to watch the try-outs. The sight reminded Harry of her first time as captain during sixth year. The try-outs then had been similar, only this time, a lot more students had signed up. Way more.

'This will go well into the afternoon, won't it?' Harry muttered, now feeling extremely glad that Hermione had bossed her and Ron into finishing all their homework the night before.

'Looks like it,' Hermione smiled. 'Well, I'll just go find a seat, shall I? Good luck,' she added to Ron and, after a tiny pause, shyly pecked him on the lips before hurrying away.

Harry bit back a grin at seeing the look on Ron's face. She knew that that simple kiss would perform better magic on his performance than a whole cauldron full of Felix Felicis.

'OK, let's get started,' Harry said, mentally going through a few easy techniques that would help to eliminate the less talented students before she moved onto the real trials. Ron fell into step with her and they both moved forward to meet the rest of the potential candidates.

Neither of them saw Hermione pause on her way to the stands, look at something farther off, and then abruptly change direction, disappearing from view. Nor did anyone notice when she came back several minutes later and no questions were raised regarding the pensive and brooding look on her face that lasted throughout the practice. She barely noticed when the man she loved was made the Gryffindor Keeper yet again.

Of the latest advice that Blaise had offered Draco concerning his dilemma with his fiancée, the words that most effectively spurred on the blond to just go up to Potter and knock some sense into her were these: 'I'm not sure how to phrase this, Draco, but I rather feel that whenever you've had to deal with Harry ever since this engagement business started, you – and I'm saying this as courteously as possible with no intent to insult, mind – you've been acting like a bit of a ... well, a complete wuss. You're as good as letting Harry walk all over you! And you're going to get nowhere unless you learn to deal with her sooner or later.'

Whatever Blaise' intention might have been, Draco had been insulted at his allegation. Very much. So, he had simply opted to ignore that part of their conversation (after subjecting his friend to one of his deadly glares, of course) and focus on what the brunet had to say on Hariah Potter instead. However, after having had successfully disappointed his parents the day before, the "wuss" part was all that Draco had been able to think about.

He had initially been considering leaving Potter alone for another week or so to dampen that fiery attitude of hers towards him, but when Draco woke up on Sunday, that was the last thing he felt like doing. Instead, only one other thought dominated his mind: Just confront the woman already and get it over with.

And no, this out-of-the-blue decision had absolutely nothing at all to do with seeing his fiancée enjoy a so-called friendly dance with Seamus Finnegan, and realising that she may very well give her heart to another man if he, Draco, did not stop playing the coward and take care of the problem soon. Nothing to do with that disheartening thought, no.

He spent a good amount of time in bed that morning, ignoring a persuasive Blaise that eventually left for breakfast without him, contemplating his decision and hardening his resolve. Whichever way he thought about it, a discomfited Draco had to admit that his actions did seem rather cowardly. He had not taken the initiative to explain himself fully to Potter, he had not fought against her false accusations of him, and he bloody well had not really done anything to work out the mess they were in. Blaise was right; he was getting nowhere this way. And if he did nothing to solve it, then he was going to lose his fiancée for good. Not necessarily to Finnegan who had made it amply clear to the whole school that he was madly obsessed with Millicent Bulstrode (poor girl; Draco felt somewhat sorry for her), but to some other stranger who might convince Potter that he was the only one for her or that no one else could love her like him or – or ... well, best not to think along those lines if Draco did not wish to destroy his bedside table with a hateful Reducto.

At length, he dressed and left the dormitory with single-minded purpose. He was going to seek out Hariah Potter wherever she was, and have it all out at last. If he played his cards right, then all might work out well. Though he still was not quite sure exactly what that entailed or what he really wanted from this meeting. The thought of actually marrying his rival was still a little unnerving, but he supposed that he did want a chance with her at least, to see where it might lead...

'Ah, the sun has finally risen for you, has it?'

Draco was snapped out of his musings to see Blaise entering the empty common room.

'Well, I'm afraid you're a little late in arising and will have to survive on an empty stomach until lunch,' he continued breezily. 'Breakfast is already over.'

Shrugging, Draco walked up to the stone wall of the room which slid open to reveal the dungeon corridor on the other side.

'I'm not hungry.'

'Then where are you going?' Blaise asked curiously.

Draco paused momentarily before deciding that he might as well just tell his friend. He would eventually know anyway.

Making sure that they were alone in the room, he answered in a low voice, 'I need to talk to Potter.'

The brunet stared at him for a few seconds before a large grin spread across his face. 'About time you decided to take my advice and stopped being a wuss, Malfoy! I believe we had that particular conversation ... hmm, some five or six days ago, was it? Well, took you long enough, then.'

A petulant retort was on the tip of Draco's tongue, but he decided against it and instead asked in a tight voice, 'Well, do you know where she is? Maybe you happened to see her in the Great Hall?'

'Yes.' Blaise was still grinning maniacally. 'But whatever you have to say to her, it will have to wait. I saw her and a bunch of other Gryffindors leave for the pitch shortly after breakfast. They're having Quidditch try-outs, I suppose.'

Draco nodded vaguely, trying not to show his disappointment on his face. He could certainly wait until she was finished with her Quidditch, but he really wanted to talk to her right at that moment when his determination was still fresh and firm. Not that he was going to back out of his decision, of course not, but his resolve was still somewhat unsteady and, now that he had plenty of time before he could talk to her, he did not want to end up spending that time imagining negative outcomes of their impending meeting – that was not exactly something that would give a boost to his steadfastness.

He was trying to decide on a course of action when Blaise, with a sly look that escaped Draco's attention, suggested nonchalantly, 'Why don't you go on down to the pitch, Draco?'

Starting, Draco turned to look at him. 'What?'

'I'm serious. Go down there. You can watch the try-outs till they finish and then talk to her.'

'It's hardly necessary ...'

Blaise rolled his eyes. 'Drake, a detour to the pitch is not going to get you killed. Besides, this way, you won't have to constantly check if the practices have ended or not. It'll be quite easy for you to corner Harry immediately afterwards.'

The blond paused, considering this logic. 'Well ... I guess you're right about that.'

'Of course,' Blaise grinned. 'And you'll get an extra bonus if you go!'

'Which would be ...?' Draco drawled, crocking an eyebrow.

'You'll get to watch her for at least a few hours, won't you? And I know how much you like looking at her...'

'BLAISE!'

The brunet in question merely laughed loudly at the look on Draco's face.

Though mortified at his friend's bluntness, Draco chose to go along with that plan anyway. And that was only because it was the easiest way. It had nothing to do with the tempting thought of "watching" Hariah Potter undetected for a couple of hours, he assured himself as he stalked out of the castle.

When Draco reached the pitch, Potter and her two sidekicks were already there; she and Weasley had their brooms, and Granger had probably come to watch the proceedings. Staying out of sight, Draco quickly slipped away and took refuge in a remote, shadowy corner in the stands where he was quite sure that no one would be able to see him.

Relaxing, he leaned back in his seat and languidly watched as Hariah Potter barked out commands, grouping off all the candidates and rather treating them like an army that was eager to obey her every whim. It was rather refreshing, he felt, to see these new sides of Potter; sides that he had not taken much notice of before because he had been far too busy convincing himself that he loathed her.

He rather regretted that now; regretted that everyone else seemed to know her so much better than he did himself. Add to that the fact that he was even considering marrying her and the whole thing sounded like a bad joke.

Well, he mused, at least I know what I have to change.

Again he got the urge to just go up to Potter and talk to her before his motivation died down. He really needed to get her to listen to him regardless of her attitude or mood.

And make her understand that I'm not trying to force her to marry me, he added to himself, rolling his eyes slightly. The notion still sounded absurd to him and, when he thought about it, her mind-set and response to the engagement also seemed a little immature. He wondered vaguely if that, too, arose from another side to her that he had yet to uncover.

Well, all he could do was wait for the Gryffindor try-outs to be over. Hopefully, she would be in a good mood by then since he, at the very least, knew that she had a profound love for the sport. And perhaps she would actually give him a chance –

If I "approach her the right way", thought Draco and immediately grimaced. That phrase had stuck in his brain and refused to leave him alone. Thank you so much, Blaise.

However, his insightful friend had proved useful, though. Especially the small bit of information-slash-advice he had provided: 'I don't know much about Harry, Drake, but she became my friend readily enough, so I don't think she's the type to hold grudges or prejudices against people if they're eventually friendly to her. I'd say she'd be willing to give you a chance, too, but only if you let her know your true intentions. Just don't give her the wrong impression (like you've already done; better correct that at once, Malfoy), because she seems a very independent sort of woman.

'Also ... please do not take this the wrong way, but don't you think you will make better progress if you were ... how should I put it? – more open with your feelings for her? I mean, for Harry, you've been an enemy for so long; it can't be easy for her to accept you as a possible lover or future husband. So, you might consider helping her along.'

Thoughtfully, Draco twirled his wand between his fingers. He could appreciate the wisdom and truth in Blaise' words, but at the same time, there was a part of him that wished he had thought of it himself. And he might have too, if he had paid enough attention to her character traits long before this...

Oh to hell with it! He was just ruminating about the same old thing all over again. Time to move on, Malfoy, he told himself, looking over at where his fiancée was testing the Chasers. If he wanted to have a chance with Hariah Potter, than he was going to have to change where their relationship stood, starting from today –

'Malfoy...?'

Startled, Draco looked up quickly to see someone slowly approaching him down the stands. He blinked in surprise when he recognised who it was.

How did she know I was here?

The bushy-haired girl came to a halt a few feet away and scrutinised him with narrowed and yet, strangely curious eyes.

'What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

'All right, good job!' Harry called when Demelza Robins, who was trying out for a Chaser again this year, finished her trial. Flushed with success, Demelza flew back to the ground while Harry quickly scanned through her parchment of candidates and noted down the girl's score beside those of the other potential Chasers that had made it through the first elimination stage.

Harry examined the scores critically. Demelza was the only that had succeeded in putting the Quaffle through a hoop five times in a row. Ginny Weasley had made four goals (much to her shame) while four others had managed to squeeze in three.

'OK, listen up!' Harry said authoritatively, looking up at the hopeful faces of the Chaser candidates. 'Ginny and Demelza – you're in. To pick the third Chaser, however, I'm going to hold another round for Alyssa Howard, Dean Thomas, Garrett Rydinger and John Rayson because they're tied. And no, I'm not going to change my mind,' she added loudly when the protests, which she had been anticipating, arose from the other rejected candidates. 'They have the third highest scores and so they deserve the second go, fair and square. So, the rest of you, please leave the pitch now! Thanks for coming.'

Grousing and disappointed, the eliminated Gryffindors left, many of then heading to the stands to watch the reminder of the trials. Harry turned back to the remaining candidates.

'All right, you four,' Harry said, lightly throwing the red Quaffle to Garrett Rydinger, a lanky sixth year, who caught the ball with ease. 'Let's get this done so we can move on to the Keeper try-outs. Same procedure: try and make five goals. The one with the highest count gets the Chaser position. Line up!

'And welcome back,' she added in an undertone to a grinning Ginny and overjoyed Demelza while the other four Gryffindors mounted their brooms again and prepared to take off.

'Rydinger, you go first,' Harry commanded the dark-haired teen who nodded and flew up to take his shots.

Harry was about to get on her Firebolt and follow him when, all of a sudden, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She froze at the prickling sensation and then abruptly whirled around. All that she could see, though, were the reinstated Chasers and the many other candidates that were waiting further away. Uncertainly, she looked around the pitch, letting her gaze rove over the on-lookers and empty stands. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.

But I could've sworn I felt someone staring...

Well of course there are quite a lot of people staring, Harry chided herself the next moment. Almost the entire Gryffindor House were out on the stands, after all.

But still, that feeling ... it felt familiar...

'Hey, Harry,' Ginny called, startling Harry out of her thoughts. 'You feeling all right? What's the matter?'

Harry shot another puzzled look at the empty stands further off.

'Nothing,' she murmured softly as she turned back to her broom, unable to shake off the self-conscious feeling gripping her. It was nothing...

'What are you doing here, Malfoy?'

Draco frowned in displeasure. 'What business is that of yours, Granger?' he drawled while wondering how she had seen him. He had been sure that no one would.

Hermione Granger did not appear to be affronted at his rude response. On the contrary, she looked rather thoughtful.

'Are you here to see Harry?'

He looked at her, somewhat surprised. Her seemingly calm reaction to his presence was quite unprecedented. He would have imagined that she would assume he was spying on Potter and threaten him with pain and dismemberment if he took the innocence of their precious Girl Who Lived; not ask if he was here to see Harry – and rather nicely, too.

'Why do you want to know?' Draco finally asked, eyeing her warily.

With a careless shrug, she sat down a few feet away from him, giving him his space. 'Harry told us a few weeks ago that she finally told you about getting your ring. But she also said that you didn't give her an answer back then, and seeing you here now, I figured you finally came to tell her your decision.' She looked questioningly at him. 'So, is that why you're here? Have you decided to cancel the engagement altogether?'

Draco turned away, unable to suppress a snort. 'Not that it is any of your business, but no. My being here has more to do with beating some common sense into that thick skull of hers. She got her chance to beat me up; now it's my turn.'

'What are you talking about?' Granger asked, sounding confused.

'You very well know,' Draco answered contemptuously, beginning to wish that she would just leave him alone. 'The Girl Who Lived is so ready to jump to conclusions and get physical instead of giving others' their chance to have a say, isn't she? Not to mention that the conclusions she draws are utterly preposterous. One would think that the Chosen One would show more maturity –'

'What are you talking about?' she repeated more forcefully.

Draco looked at her, raising his eyebrows at the genuinely perplexed look on her face. 'You don't know?' he asked disbelievingly.

'Don't know what?'

'About that meeting ... in the Defence room ... Potter didn't tell you?'

Granger simply gaped dumbly at him.

Draco stared at her, shaking his head slightly. 'She didn't tell you...'

Why not, though? Potter had always struck him as the sort who shared everything with her little sidekicks. Well, maybe not the more intimate and potentially mortifying aspects of events, but still, he had assumed that she would at least give them the general idea of things, such as meeting his mother. But if she had not...

And on top of that, here with him was one of the aforementioned sidekicks, who – miraculously – did not seem utterly repulsed at her best friend being engaged to their ex mortal enemy. Hmm...

An idea began to form in his head; an idea that he probably would have never dreamed of before, but at the moment, Draco was quite willing to try new approaches, even if it meant involving people he did not hold in high regard.

'Granger,' he drawled, turning to face her fully, 'I think you and I need to have a little talk. And I want to hear your honest opinion.'

Harry was exhausted. The sun had long since passed its zenith in the sky and the Quidditch try-outs were finally over, along with Harry's strength and energy. She had worn herself out trying to separate the candidates with real talent from those that had signed up just for the hell of it, and the overwhelming protests that the rejected Gryffindors had raised had forced her to shout herself hoarse. But, in spite of everything, Harry stood smiling and satisfied in front of the Gryffindor team she had put together for that year.

The Chasers, Ginny and Demelza, were joined by Garrett Rydinger who had just managed to beat out his tough competition with a score of four goals out of five. Ron had made it back in as Keeper after a spectacular trial where he had blocked all the goals the Chasers had tried to put past him. As for the Beaters, Harry had welcomed back Jimmy Peakes, whose skills had drastically improved, and newbie Diego Raphael, a stout fourth year that had nearly taken Harry's arm off with a strongly hit Bludger. All in all, she was very pleased with her team.

'Excellent work, everybody!' she congratulated them with a proud grin. 'Garrett and Diego, welcome to the team, and the rest of you, welcome back! You all did great today.

'Anyway, you know we have only a few weeks until the first match of the season, so we'll be holding practices three times a week to horn our skills and improve our teamwork. Mondays and Wednesdays at seven in the evening, and at eleven on Saturday mornings. Homework will be an issue, so I can't take more than two of your weeknights,' she added when their faces fell at "Saturday mornings".

'But what about Hogsmeade Saturdays?' asked Demelza.

'On Hogsmeade weekends, we'll just postpone the training to the evening or the next day,' Harry answered decisively. 'If you have any clashes with the timings, please let me know.' She paused for a few seconds, and when no one said anything, 'The training will start from this Monday onwards, so I'll see you then. Thanks for coming today.'

With "OK, I'll be there"s and "Thank you, Harry"s, the new Gryffindor team dispersed. Harry smiled brightly at them and then turned to Ron, who had not stopped grinning ever since saving his last goal.

'Well, someone's looking very happy,' she remarked amusedly.

Ron smiled sheepishly at her. 'It almost felt like I'd had some of that lucky potion today,' he admitted. 'I mean, those were some really tough goals, you know. I dunno how I saved all of them.'

Harry shook her head, chuckling. 'Hermione should kiss you more often,' she told him with a smirk, unable to resist.

'What?' Ron sputtered, his ears going red. His entire face followed suit when he caught sight of the girl in question approaching them with a warm smile on her face.

'Keeper again! Congratulations, Ron! I knew you could do it.'

The redhead, still flushed, beamed down at her. 'Thanks! I made some pretty good saves out there, didn't I?'

Hermione's smile drooped a little and a momentary spark of confusion flashed through her eyes. 'Saves...? Oh yes,' she said hastily, 'they were amazing!'

'Yeah,' Ron went on excitedly as they turned to head back to the castle. 'I still can't believe it though! I mean, when Demelza came at me and feinted to her right –'

Tuning out his chatter, Harry took Hermione by the arm and deliberately slowed down so that they fell back behind Ron.

'You did see him make those saves, didn't you?' Harry, who had not missed Hermione's little slip, asked in an undertone.

'Of course I did!' she answered calmly, averting her eyes.

Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows, unconvinced. 'Hermione –'

'Oh yes, Harry, I nearly forgot,' she interrupted, turning to face her abruptly. Ahead of them, Ron turned and looked at the two girls questioningly, finally having realised that they had fallen back. 'You need to go to the changing rooms.'

'What?' Harry stammered, baffled. 'But I'm not even in my Quidditch robes, Hermione.'

'Changing rooms, Harry.'

'What are you talking about?!'

'Please, just go.'

Harry stared at her, completely bamboozled before slowly beginning to comprehend what she might mean. 'You want me to meet somebody ... Who?' she asked uncertainly, wondering why her friend was acting so peculiar.

Hermione had the strangest expression on her face. It reflected indecision and anxiety as well as just a hint of something that looked like mild amusement. 'Trust me, Harry. Just go, all right.'

And it was probably because she trusted her best friend so much that Harry, instead of responding with a resounding 'NO!' as she normally might have done, obligingly turned and slowly began to walk towards the changing rooms, throwing one last uneasy glance over her shoulder. Behind her, she heard a suspicious Ron offering to accompany her and Hermione brusquely shooting him down and calling after her that they would be waiting for her at Hagrid's.

However, it was Hermione's parting words that nearly made her miss a step:

'Oh, and Harry? Be nice.'

It was with both relief and dread that Draco, who was leaning against the doors of the changing rooms, looked up at the sound of grass crunched underfoot. Relieved that she really had come to meet him, and dreading that he was going to make another dim-witted blunder and blow this meeting – again.

She eventually came round the outer side of the pitch and, upon seeing his profile, abruptly halted. Her eyes widened slightly, and Draco garnered that Granger had not told her whom she was meeting. But judging from how fast the surprise disappeared and was replaced with calculating coldness, she probably had suspected that it was him beforehand anyway. And from the way her mouth was tightening as were the fingers still gripping her broomstick ... oh yes, she was not at all pleased to see him.

They both gazed at each other for several seconds, neither speaking nor willing to be the first to break the frosty silence. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of staring at her eyes which were burning at him, Draco opened his mouth to speak with no idea of how to break the ice, but Potter was much quicker.

'You know, I would ask about what the hell you did to get Hermione to send me here – since you obviously have something to do with it – but right now, I really couldn't care less. If you're here to finally take your damn ring back, then, by all means, just get it over with. But if what you have is another witty scheme on how you can force this marriage or yourself on me – which you most probably do – then just. Go. To. Hell.'

Draco, whose hopes had deflated and anger steadily risen throughout her monologue, shot the Gryffindor a withering glare. He had not even got a word out yet and already she was reeling off with her imprudent accusations.

'What is it with you?' He snapped, pushing away from the doors and taking a step towards her.

'Me?' she retorted, standing her ground. 'You're one to talk, Malfoy, running around and imposing bloody marriage on a person who clearly wants nothing to do with you!'

'Yes, you have made that sufficiently clear, thank you,' Draco said harshly, ignoring the hurt her ruthless words were causing him. 'And you have also made it fully obvious just how unbelievably immature you can be!'

'Immature! You –!'

'Honestly, forcing you to marry me! Do you have any idea how utterly foolish that sounds?'

'Oh, I beg to differ.' Potter took a few threatening steps towards him. 'Let's look at the situation, shall we? Here I am, your worst enemy, who got your stupid engagement ring for some equally stupid reason! So, what should you have done, huh? Taken that thing off like any other rival would have, that's what! But what do you do instead? You go and bloody introduce me to your mother who can't wait for us to be married! I think that's tantamount to saying that you're pretty much "forcing me", yeah!'

Clenching his fists, Draco folded his arms and looked coldly at her, trying to ignore the sneering and sarcastic tone she had taken on as he struggled to fight down his temper.

'Don't you dare tell me what I should have done, Potter, when you know absolutely nothing of my intentions or feelings,' he replied in a low, would-be calm voice. 'However, I do agree that I should have given you a better warning before allowing my mother to see you, so if it makes you happy ... I ... apologise for that,' he added, stumbling over the words a little.

It was, he would realise later, the first time in his life that he had ever apologised to Hariah Potter.

She was gaping at him, completely shocked at the all-too-sudden apology which she had never expected to hear. Draco felt a touch of satisfaction at having caught her off-guard and could not help but smirk inwardly.

'However,' he continued, 'I fail to see how introducing you to my mother justifies your believing that I'm coercing you into marriage –'

She snorted, quickly recovering from her earlier amazement. 'What else does that meeting imply, Malfoy?' she asked derisively, propping her arm on the handle end of her broom. 'For seven years, you've been my rival. You loathe me. So, when you introduce me to your mother as your fiancée, what else can it mean?'

'Listen to me, Potter,' Draco began exasperatedly, but she turned a deaf ear to him.

'Why would someone who hate me ever want to marry me, huh? Tell me that. Really, when I ask myself all these, your "intentions" become transparent enough –!'

Draco stared at her in frustration and annoyance. There she was off again, ranting on about the things that she believed to be true without letting his voice be heard, much like how she had been snarling in his face that day in the DADA classroom.

Does she ever stop once she gets started? He wondered with irritation as she continued to seethe. Of all the times they had exchanged insults in the past, he certainly had never been able to shut her up as far as he could remember, either because he had been too busy cursing back or she was doing the same. Honestly, the only time he had ever managed to purposefully silence her was...

Draco's heart nearly skipped a beat when he remembered: the night he had deliberately taunted her outside the Headmistress' office after she had run into him for the third time.

He looked at Potter, whose mouth had yet to cease moving. That night, he most definitely had succeeded in getting her tongue tied when he had unwittingly taken his little game of provocation too far; the only time he had ever had that effect on her.

The teasing temptation that took shape as the memory assaulted his mind slowly began to swell, tugging at his deep-rooted desires. It would be, he knew, quite a foolish thing to do and definitely would not count as "approaching her the right way". In fact, it was probably the surest route of getting punched and/or slapped again. But, right then, Draco could not bring himself to care. He was tired of trying to keep a strategy in mind when dealing with Potter and her unfounded allegations, and their little meet-up had already gone awry what with the bad start anyway. There was little to lose by throwing caution to the wind.

And so, without bothering to consider the consequences, he stepped right in front of her and roughly pulled her to him by the waist, raising an arm and pressing his finger against her lips as an afterthought.

Freezing up, Hariah Potter fell silent at once, her eyes widening in surprise and disbelief as she stared up at him. Her broomstick lay, forgotten, on the ground. She did not struggle to get away nor did she bat his finger away from her mouth, but – much like the first time he had ever touched her like this – the antagonism in her eyes abruptly faded and was replaced with heated embarrassment and something else he could not define.

Draco looked down at her wide, bright green eyes rather thoughtfully. 'So, in my case, this really is the only way to get you to stop talking, is it?' he murmured. 'And why is that, may I ask?'

He half-expected her to push him away and make a scathing reply, but the colour in her cheeks only deepened at his words and she quickly dropped her eyes to stare at a point somewhere around his shoulder, looking flustered. Draco watched her reaction with some wonderment, forgetting his current annoyance with her.

'Does being close to me really make you this self-conscious?' He asked without thinking. He almost winced as the words slipped from his mouth, but Potter only shot him a mortified glance before looking away again. The sight of it coaxed a small, amused smile from him and he removed his finger from her soft lips and propped it under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

She met her intense gaze reluctantly and Draco marvelled at how vulnerable she now appeared. Only moments ago she had been shouting, but pressed up against him, her self-confidence had vanished and, Merlin, she was positively blushing! Hell, it was the sort of reaction he would expect from someone who was attracted to him, not from Hariah Pott –

He froze at the startling thought. What were the odds? He eyed the uncomfortable girl in his arms, his heart beginning to beat louder as his hopes arose. If she actually hated him, really and truly loathed him, she would not allow him to hold her like this, would she? But she still had made no attempt to get away and her expression was far from revulsion. The tiny smile on his face broadened a little. Maybe it is true, Draco mused, feeling a spark of happiness he had not felt in a long time. Maybe what he was suspecting to be "attraction" was not written in stone; but all the same, these new and unfamiliar hints certainly pointed in that direction and that was quite an encouraging thought.

He would think on it later, Draco decided. He still had to accomplish what he had set out do, but all the same, he already felt rather satisfied thanks to this newfound possibility.

'So,' he continued in a far softer voice than before, causing Potter to look uneasily at him. 'Now that you're here' – he emphasised the word by crushing her a little closer, just to see how she would react; her breath hitched in her throat – 'and I've got the chance to get in a word, will you finally listen?' He did not give her time to reply (if she could have managed that in her current condition) and went on,

'You think so lowly of me, but did you ever stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, you are actually wrong? You assume that I hate you and so I cannot possibly be considering marrying you out of love, and so when I drag you to my mother, it is because I'm planning to impose marriage on you due to some dastardly scheme I have in store for you as I'm nothing but a heartless wretch who only sees you as a – what was it? – oh yes, a "toy". Is that about right? But it never occurred to you, did it, that I might have other reasons as to why I didn't immediately stop this engagement? And you never even thought about giving me a chance to explain myself.

'Well, let me clear up a few things for you, Potter. First of all, I brought you to my mother because she was so insistent upon it. All she wanted was to meet you and, despite what impression you have of her motives or mine, it does not mean that I'm forcing anything on you. Nor is my mother intending to push us into marriage no matter what she said that day.

'Secondly, my reasons for not taking back the ring is not because I think of you as a toy. But it was because ...' Draco paused, trying to find the right words to say. 'Because ... I wanted to ... give this a chance. Give us a chance,' he said at length. He looked directly at Potter who stared back, appearing flummoxed by what he was saying.

Before he lost his nerve, Draco ploughed on, 'There is a reason why the ring chose you, Potter. It was not a malfunction and it wasn't for a stupid reason, either. Its magic is powerful and it acted upon my wishes, as I'm sure you already know. I want to see for myself why it picked you. That is why I waited instead of removing it, Potter.'

A long pause ensued in which his fiancée shook her head a little, trying to pull her thoughts together.

'Just – just what are you trying to say?' She was finally able to whisper.

Draco scrutinised her, trying to guess how she would respond to his answer. 'I want to get to know you.'

Potter looked at him with uncomprehending eyes and he hesitantly began to explain, 'I'm not keeping you in this only for marriage, Potter. The rings only find the qualities that the owner is looking for. But the whole point of the engagement is for the betrotheds to learn each other and see if they truly are compatible. It does not mean that one is keeping the other prisoner, nor does it mean that it ultimately ends in the two of them marrying.'

She let out a shaky breath. 'You're saying you want to know me and see if we can get along.'

'Yes,' he said slowly, almost holding his breath as he intuitively held her tighter. Was she actually coming round to his way of thinking?

'And if we don't, then it's the end of this arrangement. But ... if by some incredible way, if this works ... you're ... you're going to marry me anyway, aren't you ... And this – this engagement, though it's about learning each other, it's still ultimately meant to work towards a marriage. Isn't it?'

The hope in Draco's eyes faded. 'Does the thought of marrying me revolt you so much?' He asked quietly, his face betraying some of the injury her edgy voice had caused.

A flash of guilt passed through her eyes, but she did not answer his question. Instead, she said with a hint of stubbornness in her voice, 'I want to know why you want to do this so badly. Isn't it already obvious that this engagement is not going to work? You and I both know we're not compatible. To even get along, don't we have to at least like each other? But we don't.'

Appearing to regain some of her old assurance, she raised her chin and met his gaze squarely. 'Come on, Malfoy,' she said in a low, reasonable voice. 'You said yourself that you don't want to marry me because of some "dastardly scheme". So, why else are you doing this? Just because I was chosen? If so, then aren't you putting a little too much faith in a ring? Maybe it didn't malfunction, but this out-of-the-blue engagement is not going to change how we feel just like that! All these years we've hated each other, Malfoy! A ring can't change years' worth of hatred into love, enchanted or not. So, this engagement is completely hopeless, don't you see? You'll just be wasting your time.'

Draco slowly digested her words, regarding her silently for so long that she lost her poise again and her eyes filled with uncertainty. He inhaled deeply through his nose, thinking everything through. He understood that, to her, her logic seemed extremely reasonable, but she still did not know everything and he did not know how to make her see it all. It would take time for her to accept them, but considering her nature and attitude towards him, he knew that whatever he dealt her would have to make enough of an impression for her to even consider it.

What can convince her that she's wrong? He wondered wearily. Potter believed that he had always hated her (and with good reason) and that was the first misconception he had to correct. Otherwise, they would get nowhere. But to overthrow such a strong conviction, he needed a stronger counterattack. But at this point in their relationship, what could be done? I can't make her believe that I don't hate her. Words would be meaningless at this moment; she would take them as shallow lies. She could believe it only if she allowed him to let her feel what he felt, but...

But ... Draco felt his mouth go dry as the thought, desperate and utterly imprudent, took hold of him. No, he should not do it! It was completely inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. But if it really worked ... And it really might, his desires whispered, filling him with temptation and making him feel dazed and strangely reckless.

'Malfoy.'

Taking an unsteady breath, he focussed his mind on Potter, who looked tentatively up at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco, driven by the sudden fire and determination inside him, spoke across her,

'There's one more thing I want to clear up today, Potter,' he breathed. 'And I suggest you pay attention to this one...'

Draco hung back for only a fraction of a second, but then he wound his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her head closer as he swiftly leaned down and captured her inviting lips in his. The feel of her moist mouth sent jolts of electricity through his nerves and, with a wanton groan, he crushed her flush against him, gnawing hungrily at her lips. She stood rigid and unresponsive as he kissed her with fiery passion, but he barely registered that as he concentrated on pouring every drop of his sentiments and feelings into the contact. All those years of bottled emotions, obsessive desires, craving to be with her and for her, and now lust – he tried to put everything into his touch so that she could feel them with the same intensity, the same ardour, right here, right now through his kiss.

As the seconds passed, he felt her trembling in his arms and he ran a hand slowly down her back, a comforting yet sensual touch. His caress elicited a soft moan from her and she unconsciously gripped his arms. Taking advantage of her parted lips, Draco deepened the kiss, revelling in the sweet taste of her mouth. He gently pulled her head back, wanting more access and she offered it without resistance, tentatively returning the touch.

Draco did not know for how long he stood there, drinking in her sweetness, but it was with reluctance that he finally pulled back, relinquishing her bottom lip from his teeth. Her eyes opened and she looked dazedly at him, breathing hard. Slowly, as she came to grips with what had just transpired, a kaleidoscope of emotions exploded in her eyes.

'What ...?' she stammered, trembling again.

Trying to gather his thoughts, he returned her gaze intensely. 'What did that feel like, Potter?' He murmured. He leaned forward so that his mouth brushed against her ear. 'Still think I hate you?'

He let go of her waist and abruptly walked away, heading towards Hogwarts. It was all he could do to keep from turning back, but he did not think he could control himself if he were to spend another minute in her presence.

He had done enough for today, he told himself. Best to let Potter think on everything by herself for now.

And I'll be damned if she comes to slap me again, he thought, but even then, he found it impossible to make light of what he had just done and his thoughts went back to that kiss. The feel of her, the taste ... he had never dreamed before that he would be allowed to do it one day.

Lost in thoughts of Hariah Potter and, it must be admitted, her lips, Draco hurried back to the castle, occasionally reminding himself not to look back. So absorbed was he that he never noticed the small crouching figure that darted away from behind him.

Harry's brain had officially shut down. She could not interrogate Hermione about her betrayal (yes, that's exactly what it was), but more than that, she could not bring herself to contemplate the "meeting" between her and Draco Malfoy. Because every time she even tried to make sense of it, all her mind could focus on was the sensation of his lips devouring hers and the pleasure it had evoked in her. There was no sense in denying it; she had bloody enjoyed that experience and the thought mortified her.

Thus, Harry spent the remainder of Sunday in a daze, easily ignoring her worried friends and forcing her mind to stay blank. Surprisingly, this was not too hard to do and she succeeded in keeping it up all the way until breakfast on Monday. And she would have happily continued along this zombie state for the rest of eternity if it were not for one thing...

The shocked faces that awaited her at the Gryffindor table when she arrived in the morning.

Harry looked from one to the other with raised eyebrows as she sat down, growing increasingly more apprehensive and frustrated when no one said anything. Ron was simply gaping at her and Hermione looked both surprised and worried, while most of the others stared at her, whispering among themselves.

The scene was so reminiscent of similar incidents that she had faced dozens of times already that Harry, quickly losing her patience, turned to Hermione and said irritably, 'So, what are people saying about me now?'

With the utmost reluctance, Hermione silently handed over a folded copy of the Daily Prophet. Aiming a look of hatred at the thing that had already caused her so much trouble, Harry snatched the paper and unfolded it, aware that everyone in the vicinity was watching her. She spread the paper on the table and looked witheringly at the front page. For a moment, she could not compute what she was seeing, but when she did, it was with shock followed by a sinking heart and a prayer that the earth would gobble her up.

Because taking up over half the page was a huge, moving photo and it depicted Draco Malfoy holding Hariah Potter in his arms and snogging her senseless as if there was no tomorrow.

A/N: What happened between Draco and Harry, it wasn't really supposed to happen! At least, not here. But I dunno, it just seemed right at that moment and ... ah, it just goes to show how much control I have over my own story. But hey, who am I to complain over a scene like that? ;)

So, puh-lease review??? I really want to know what you guys thought about this chapter!

NEXT: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - New Beginnings (This might take a while. Kinda busy with school)