Truth be told, I WAS going to wait until tomorrow to post this chapter. But brilliant reviewers and their fabulous comments and brilliant encouragement render me-the humble writer- absolutely powerless.

This early posting goes out to the amazing, brilliant and all round superstar FalconLux who is just...I can't even... *bursts into tears*

Her gorgeous reviews and never ending faith in this story have made my inner unicorn tapdance. Darling, consider this one especially for your brilliant self. Readers like you make it all worth while.

And of course, I couldn't possibly forget the rest of you gorgeous folks who have had so much faith in this story. Again, I apologize for the short chapters...they break easy :( But I am updating as fast as I can so you won't have to wait. I love you all, and from a very overwhelmed writer, thank you from the bottom of my heart

Mistake number two? Well, that would be taking cover from Malfoy's onslaught behind a rickety chair when there was a perfectly good, solid desk not ten feet away. Hex after hex flew past him as he crouched behind his makeshift shield.

Harry hissed as a Stinging Hex singed him. This was going to be harder than he thought. Malfoy seemed to know an impressive number of dangerous spells.

And then the desk was hurtling towards him with point blank accuracy and Harry just about managed to scrabble out of the way with seconds to spare. It crashed against the wall with astounding force, landing on the floor in a heap of kindling.

"You!" Malfoy snarled, apparently caught somewhere between utter disbelief and white hot rage. His wand was pointing at Harry's chest - a slim, ebony weapon of pure destruction. "Fucking hell, it's you!"

"Too right," Harry grinned, righting himself easily. "Thanks for the warm welcome."

"What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?" Draco spat. "What is this?"

"Haven't figured it out yet?" Harry asked. "I'd make a blond joke but that would probably end with me impaled on your wand." He grinned and raised an eyebrow at the furious blond. "Not entirely a bad thing, if you catch my drift."

"Shut up!" Draco snarled, casting a Stunner. Harry deflected it easily - he'd been expecting that.

"Temper, temper," he crooned aggravatingly. "We'll have to work on that now that we're officially engaged."

"We are not engaged!" Malfoy snarled, sending a potentially lethal looking hex at him. Harry deflected it again, sending it hurtling out the window.

"Course we are," he replied cheerfully. "Don't you read the papers? By the way, excellent job on the Weird Sisters bass player."

"A standard pecker shrinking hex," Draco sneered. "Care for a demonstration?"

Harry laughed. "Wouldn't be much use to you then, would I?" he asked, lazily eyeing the blond. He delighted in Draco's surprised blink. The sudden change of tactics had caught him off guard. Harry took a cautious step towards the blond, only to encourage an immediate retreat.

"Get away from me!" Draco snapped, backing away quickly. "Don't touch me, Potter!"

"I remember you saying that before," Harry mused. "When was that again? Oh right, when I saved your scrawny little neck from that brute at the pub. Funny, I don't remember you thanking me for that."

"I had it under control," Malfoy gritted reluctantly.

"Sure you did," Harry retorted. "Right up to the part where he nearly strangled you and I had to step in to save your pretty, little arse. Again."

Malfoy scowled at him. "Nobody asked for your help, Potter."

"Well, you got it," Harry growled. "I wasn't going to stand around and watch you get pushed around."

Malfoy seemed surprised by that. He opened his mouth - probably to say something utterly prattish - and then closed it again, looking somewhat flummoxed. Harry chuckled and moved closer to him so that they were almost touching. "Can we just sit and talk about this? I promise I won't bite - unless you're into that sort of thing."

The blond's eyes narrowed again as his previous predicament were brought to the forefront. "No!" he spat. "You're leaving right now!" He planted his hands on Harry's chest as if to push past him, but Harry was prepared for that. He side-stepped the blond and nicked his wand neatly, much to Draco's chagrin. Then he grabbed hold of the man's slim wrist, taking care not to manhandle him but holding him firmly in place.

"I'm not going anywhere until you thank me," the Gryffindor purred. "And neither are you."

Draco made a frustrated noise and struggled but it was useless. Harry definitely had him as far as brute strength went. Finally he stopped his squirming, and just stood there glowering stubbornly.

"I'll spend the night here if I have to," Harry grinned. "Although, I figured you'd want to wait until you have a ring on your finger for that."

He had no doubt that if Draco had the use of both his hands, they'd be around his throat by now. As it were, the blond visibly paled at that suggestion. "Fine! Thank you!" he spat, trying to extricate himself rather frantically now. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Harry replied. He pulled the blond flush against his body with a sharp tug and brought that pretty wrist to his mouth, kissing it chastely before letting go. Draco's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, cradling his wrist against his chest as if afraid it would be snatched up again. Harry couldn't help a cheeky grin. "Now was that so hard?"

Draco growled threateningly and he stepped away. The blond retreated as well, huddling in a corner and watching Harry with wary, grey eyes. "You're a sociopath," he accused, conveniently forgetting that he was the one launching furniture missiles not ten minutes ago.

"Probably," Harry agreed cheerfully. "Lucky I have my sweet, mild mannered fiancé to smooth things over, eh? Which reminds me, I'll pick you up at seven for dinner tomorrow."

"What?!"

"Well, I would have mentioned it sooner except you…" he dodged the book Malfoy promptly hurled at his head. "…were busy doing that."

Malfoy snarled and tugged at his blond hair in abject frustration. Harry smirked as he stomped over, pointing a threatening finger in his face. "Listen carefully," Malfoy intoned in a livid hiss. "I don't know what you think you're doing or what's going on in that oversized Gryffindor head of yours. I have had a long, confusing day and there's a lot I don't understand right now. But I do know this - you're going to have to drag me from this Manor kicking and screaming. I will put you through hell before I do anything you want and I will not... not be a part of whatever mad scheme you're on to this time. I will not! Do you understand me, Potter?"

"Perfectly," Harry smirked. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Don't call me… are you even listening? I am not going anywhere with you! Not unless you drag my stiff, cold corpse…"

"Yes yes, you'll make life a living hell for me, I'll rue the day I crossed you etcetera etcetera. Much as I enjoy this scintillating conversation, I really have to get back to Quidditch practice. Be sure to dress fancy for tomorrow, yeah?" Harry had the utter gall to lean over and give the blond a quick peck on the cheek before walking away.

"Potter! You crazy, delusional freak! I told you I'm not going to dinner with you!"

"Oh I think you will," Harry chuckled, pulling out something from his back pocket. "Or I'll just have to hold on to this until you're more… accommodating." He waved Draco's stolen wand aggravatingly, before giving him a cheeky wink and taking off.

As he bolted down the stairs and out the nearest exit, he vaguely wondered if the Slytherin would make dinner any easier on him.

"FATHER! YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!"

Harry chuckled.

Probably not.

"Well, I hope you're happy," Andromeda drawled, sitting next to her smirking companion. "Now he's out for blood."

"Oh indeed," Lucius chortled, evidently very pleased with himself. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be glad for a Gryffindor in my house."

"Which reminds me, Lucius… Harry Potter? Really?"

"Surely you don't plan to tell me you disapprove. I happen to remember you being rather taken with the brat."

"Harry is a remarkable young man," Andromeda admitted. "I am very fond of him. That being said, what on earth were you thinking?"

"Merely that Potter might be the solution to all our problems. He's well placed; abysmally brave - or stupid as the case may be - and apparently he has a death wish. He's perfect."

"It's not me you need to convince, Lucius," she quipped raising an eyebrow. "Your son begs to differ."

"My son has had his chances. Several of them," Lucius retorted. "I'm the Lord of this Manor and I will do what I think is best."

"Yes well, do try to remember that when Draco stabs you in your sleep," she smirked.

Lucius frowned. "He wouldn't."

Andromeda merely shrugged and shot him one of her most charming smiles. "I would."

"Sometimes I forget you're a Black."

She laughed and patted his shoulder. He inhaled sharply as those long, slender fingers brushed absently at his hair as they retreated. "Lock your door tonight, Lord of the Manor," she threw over her shoulder as she left.

And Lucius did not let his eyes linger on the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away. Most certainly not.

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