Chapter 12 is served ^^

Draco woke up to sunlight streaming in his room. He groaned and buried himself under the blankets. Seriously, the next time he and Potter stayed at Hogwarts, they were rooming in the dungeons. Stupid sunlight ruining his sleep and… suddenly, the direction his sleep addled thoughts had taken caught up with him and Draco sat up abruptly.

This growing tendency of his could not be a good thing. Thinking about Harry in any manner that implied that this situation was permanent was stupid and reckless. Not to mention mad. He couldn't possibly imagine spending his life with him. Not after spending a good decade or so actively hating the man's guts.

Except Harry seemed to think so. Then again, Harry was insane. Draco huffed irritably - yet another unfortunate side effect to his proximity to the Gryffindor Git. Just what was he thinking anyway? You couldn't just up and go for whatever the hell you wanted just because! That was not how things worked. Oh, and Harry has always been so concerned about the proper order of things, he found himself thinking sarcastically. And now he was referring to him as Harry inside his head.

Well, wasn't that nice.

Draco threw the blankets off and slipped off to the shower. He glanced at the couch that had most certainly not been there the night before, expecting to see Potter sprawled across and snoring.

He wasn't there. A blanket was strewn across, along with the pyjamas. Draco blushed unexpectedly. Potter had probably changed while he was still sleeping. The blond bit his lip. The thought of being in the same room as an apparently naked Harry Potter was not one he needed to explore right now.

Groaning and cursing to oblivion and back, Draco slipped in for a shower. He suspected that if Potter persisted in walking around with his clothes off, he was going to be taking a lot more showers.

Draco spent a while, exploring the castle. There was a fond nostalgia there, despite being tempered with images of the War. The students regarded him curiously, but none had dared to approach him so far. He amused himself with glaring at a few Hufflepuffs (just like old times) before sauntering out to the Quidditch Pitch.

Draco grinned as the familiar metal hoops glinted in the morning sun, a good thirty feet from the ground. He shielded his eyes and watched with interest as a blur flew by on a broom. A match was in progress. No, not a match - else the whole school would be out here. Probably practice then.

Draco jogged down to the pitch, hoping to catch Slytherin in action again. He hovered by the empty stands, watching as the players swoop across open sky, tossing the Quaffle around and revising team tactics and strategies. Gryffindors probably, considering the ruckus they were making. The Slytherins had always been a lot more reserved - choosing to use only hand signals and gestures for communication during the game.

Suddenly the players were swooping to the ground. One of them - probably the Seeker, Draco mused noting the boy's wiry build - landed next to him. "Did you see that?" he asked Draco excitedly. "I caught it! That's the first time I ever caught it!" He held up the Snitch proudly and Draco found himself somewhat amused by the child's infectious enthusiasm.

"Very impressive," he offered.

"I know, right?" he babbled. "Billy Johnson said I don't stand a chance against Slytherin but I'll show him! He doesn't know I'm practicing with the ruddy Cannons Seeker, does he? I can't wait to see his face when I…"

"What?" Draco blurted. His questions were immediately answered as someone swooped down almost next to him. Potter was riding a rather ancient Cleansweep Seven, his hair swept back and his cheeks red from exertion. And he was grinning so widely his face would probably split.

"Jack! Mate, you caught it. Told you it would work, didn't I?"

"It worked just like you said, Harry!" Jack exclaimed excitedly, thrusting the Snitch in Potter's face now. "I kept my…"

"Legs close to your body to balance your weight," Harry finished. "Remember to keep your elbows tucked in or you might catch a Bludger. And…"

Draco rolled his eyes and cleared his throat meaningfully. Harry whipped around to face him and grinned sheepishly. "I was just helping out the old team," he explained awkwardly as the blond raised an eyebrow. "Go Gryffindors and all." Jack whooped and high-fived him. Harry grinned at him and shrugged at Draco in a what-can-you-do manner.

Draco's lips twitched. "Couldn't last one day without the fan club, Potter?" he drawled. "You had to go and build a new one?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, someone has to make sure they're prepared for the big game," he replied. "As I recall, Slytherins are cheaters."

"As I recall, Gryffindors were just plain lucky."

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Do I detect the hint of a challenge, Malfoy? I could still grind you into the dust."

Before Draco could retort, Jack cut in. "Malfoy?" he blurted, gawking at Draco. "Are you… you're not Draco Malfoy, are you?"

"I… am?" Draco responded doubtfully. He hadn't expected anyone to know him by name here. Potter yes, he was practically a celebrity but not him, surely.

Jack seemed to disagree. His brown eyes widened to inexplicable proportions. "No way!" he babbled. "No ruddy way! Hey guys!" he bellowed at his teammates. Six pairs of eyes turned to regard them curiously. "Guys, you're not going to believe this! It's Draco Malfoy!"

"No!"

"Seriously?"

"The Draco Malfoy?"

Draco immediately found himself in a sea of wide eyed Gryffindors. They gaped at him with dropped jaws and huge eyes, chattering excitedly among themselves. Draco stared at Harry who looked rather lost as well.

"Can you believe it?" one of the Chasers babbled excitedly. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in the same day?" The rest of the team responded with eager chatter and Draco and Harry exchanged confused glances.

"Am I… missing something?" Harry cut in finally.

Jack was the one who cleared thing up. "You two are legendary!" he explained eagerly. "Like the ultimate rivals!"

"We've heard all the stories about your best games," a Beater broke in. "Like that time when you and Malfoy were racing for the Snitch and you broke your arm catching it!"

Harry grinned, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Well, we were kind of competitive back then…"

"Kind of competitive?" Jack echoed indignantly. "You were madmen! It was awesome! Draco, did you really set Harry's broom on fire that one time?"

"He was cheating," Draco supplied, grinning unapologetically as Harry scowled.

"As if you never cheated," Harry belted indignantly. "What about when you did that loopy, swervy thing and knocked me off my broom? You nearly took off my head!"

"You used the Malfoy Manoeuvre on Harry Potter?" Jack gasped.

"It has a name?" Harry sputtered indignantly.

"Well, what do you know?" Draco smirked. "They named a move after me. Hey Potter, how many Quidditch moves do you have named after you?"

Harry scowled. "It's not a real thing!" he protested.

"Is too," Draco grinned. "Hey Jack, has anyone else used the Malfoy Manoeuvre lately?"

"Only every Slytherin Seeker," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. "It's like their signature move."

Draco preened unabashedly. "Well, it seems I've got a fan following," he said, grinning at a glaring Harry over his shoulder. "And I didn't even need to join a big, fancy National League to do it."

"It's not a real thing!" Harry snapped.

"It is so a real thing!" Draco retorted, stepping closer and glaring the prat down. "You're just jealous that you don't have a move named after you!"

"Neither do you! It's not a real thing!"

"You know what's a real thing, Potter? My fist!"

They were barging into each other now and their chests were practically touching. Draco glared into Potter's flashing green eyes, his mouth tight and his body thrumming with tension. Around them, the Gryffindors stood transfixed.

"They're going to fight," the Chaser whispered excitedly. "We're gonna see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy fight! Oh my god, this is officially the best day of my life!"

Harry stepped back at once and raised his hands. "No one is going to fight," he declared. "We don't have anything to prove. And besides, it wouldn't be fair anyway so let's just drop it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco demanded at once.

Harry shrugged apologetically. "Well, let's face it Draco. I'm a professional Quidditch Player and you're… well, not. We were probably in the same league at some point but I could flatten you now. Hell, I'd probably catch the Snitch before you were off the ground."

There was an immediate bout of ooohs from the assembled Gryffindors and Draco bristled. "You want to put your money where your mouth is, Potter?" he hissed.

Harry gave him a condescending grin that made his blood boil. "Well, if you insist on public humiliation who am I to deny you?"

"Fine!" Draco spat. "Right here. Right now. Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

"Can we play too?" one of the Gryffindors asked imploringly. "You'll need a team!"

"Of course," Harry replied. "Gryffindors forever, mate!" He turned to give Draco a teasing smirk. "I don't suppose you'll have a team in the next ten minutes, will you?"

"Jack!" Draco snapped, his eyes blazing as he glared at Potter. "Round up the Slytherin team. Tell them Draco Malfoy demands their presence on the pitch in five minutes."

"Yes sir!" Jack squeaked, taking off like a Firebolt. Draco didn't notice, he was too busy locked in a staring contest with Potter. "I'm going to wipe this pitch with you," he declared.

"May the best man win," Harry smirked.

"Oh don't worry," Draco purred. "I will."

Jack had outdone himself. Not only had he procured the Slytherin team in five minutes flat, but he had wrangled a sizable audience as well. The crowd was milling about as eager Gryffindors and Slytherins crowded the pitch, hoping for a glance of the famous Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in action. Some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were watching with mild interest as well. Chants filled the air as Slytherins and Gryffindors rooted for their teams and Harry grinned as he noticed not a few red banners fluttering around.

It was just like old times. And he couldn't wait to take Malfoy on again.

"Alright team," he announced, looking around at his eager players. "We're changing the rules a bit to accommodate everyone. So, we'll have two Seekers for the match. Jack, you ready? Good. The rest of you - just do what you've been doing at practice. Keep an eye out for Bludgers. Beaters, we're counting on you. And remember - they're Slytherins, so stay on your toes. Everyone got that?"

He grinned at the resounding chorus of whoops and cheers. "Go Gryffindors," Harry yelled. "Now let's go out there and give them hell!"

The team howled in unison and took off. Harry grinned and turned to shoot Draco a grin. The blond was at the other end of the pitch, giving the Slytherins his own pep talk. He caught Harry's eye and the Gryffindor gave him a wink. Draco responded by slashing his finger across his throat in a threatening gesture.

Harry laughed.

Just like old times.

"And remember, they're Gryffindors," Draco finished. "Clearly, you possess the advantage of superior intellect."

The assembled team snickered and Draco nodded, satisfied. "Any questions?"

"Are we allowed to set brooms on fire?" a petite blonde girl asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "As team captain and honorary Seeker, I have to say no. That would be cheating and completely against the rules," he drawled. "By the way, what's the Slytherin motto again?"

"It's not cheating if you don't get caught!" the team chorused. Draco grinned at the girl. "Any more questions, Chaser?"

"No sir," she smirked.

"Right then, let's get out there and show those Gryffindors how to play Quidditch. Make me proud. Or else."

They marched off like a battle formation. Across the field, Draco caught Potter's intent eye. He smirked and made a slashing gesture against his throat. Potter laughed and gave him a thumbs-up.

Draco smiled and summoned his broom.

Just like old times.

"Just couldn't let it go, could you?" Madame Hooch asked dryly as both teams jogged out to the pitch. "I suppose it's too much to ask for a nice, clean game?"

"No Ma'am. We'll play nice," Harry said. Draco merely smirked, choosing not to commit himself.

"Right," the witch drawled, sounding utterly unconvinced. "Team Captains, shake hands. And let's try to keep everyone out of the Hospital Wing, shall we?"

Harry stepped up and put out his hand. Draco took it, wrapping his long fingers around Harry's in a light grip. "Good luck, Potter," he drawled. "You'll need it."

Harry smirked and squeezed lightly. "When I win, I expect a prize. A kiss from my fiancé."

Draco flushed but raised his chin defiantly. "If you win I'll consider it."

"Scared, Malfoy?"

"You wish, Potter."

"Captains, mount your brooms!"

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off as the whistle sounded. Draco was right beside him, grey eyes glinting with challenge and silently promising him a hell of a fight before this was over. Those pretty, pouty lips smirked and then Draco swooped gracefully, scouring for the Snitch.

Harry grinned and took off behind him.

It was on.

Two hours later...

They were back in their room. Harry was sulking with his leg in a cast and Draco was thumbing through a novel, his lips pressed together firmly as he tried his best not to laugh.

"Say it," Harry growled.

"Say what?" Draco asked innocently.

"You know exactly what," Harry snapped. "So say it and get it over with."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Draco claimed, batting his lashes. "Unless you're referring to your abject humiliation on the Quidditch pitch."

"Prat," Harry muttered.

"Oh and since you brought it up - we caught the Snitch, we caught the Snitch," Draco sing-songed aggravatingly.

Harry stood up indignantly and winced as his foot throbbed. He hobbled over to where Draco was seated and crossed his arms, glaring at the grinning blond. "You did not catch the Snitch," he gritted out. "Billy Johnson caught the Snitch."

"Oh that's right. And do refresh my memory, what was that astounding formation he pulled when he caught it? You know - the one that made you crash into a goal post and crumple to the ground in a heap of utter failure?"

Harry mumbled resentfully and Draco snickered. "What was that? I don't think I heard you."

"The Malfoy Manoeuvre, okay?!"

Draco cackled gleefully and Harry huffed, intending to stomp off. He stopped as he felt a hand on his, pulling him back. "Stop being a sore loser," Draco chided. "And lie down, you idiot. You're going to twist your ankle."

"You're teasing me," Harry pouted sullenly.

"Boo hoo, poor Potter," Draco drawled, pushing him back against the pillows. "You're just mad that you're not getting your kiss."

"But I'm wounded!" Harry protested.

"Yes well, you should have thought about that before you smashed into a goalpost at breakneck speed," Draco informed him. "Honestly Potter, have you no sense of personal safety?"

Harry grinned cheekily. "Why? Were you worried about me?"

"Hardly," Draco sniffed. "Save for the inconvenience of having to nurse you back to health, now that you're incapacitated."

"I like it," Harry announced, settling back against the pillows and letting Draco fuss about for a while. "Maybe I'll crash into things more often."

"Do it and I'll never kiss you again!" Draco threatened, inexplicably angry at the suggestion. He told himself that Potter's tendency of taking foolish risks was annoying him. That was all. It certainly wasn't concern. And that flash of pure panic he had experienced when Harry had collided into the post and careened to the ground was a fluke. A fluke! He flushed as Harry fixed him with a curious look and promptly looked away, fiddling with the pillows again.

"You don't kiss me anyway," the prat announced sulkily.

"And I'm not going to," Draco declared. "Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Read then. Just stop bothering me."

"Fine, fine. Can you pass me that novel you were reading? It's right there."

Draco rolled his eyes and reached over Potter to fetch the novel. Immediately, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Draco groaned as he was flipped over. He really should have seen that one coming. He landed on the bed with a smirking, unrepentant Potter looming above him. "And that, Malfoy is a little something I call The Potter Ploy," he said, before leaning down and crushing his mouth against the blond's.

Reviews, please! Love and peace ^^