I'M SORRY. I meant to post earlier, really I did. But then I got writer's block for this chapter, and it turned into just a filler and Draco's inner turmoil...

Je suis désolé, lo siento, mi dispiace, ich bin traurig and all that….

(Google Translate (except French.) Sorry if the above grovelling isn't linguistically correct.)

Also, I tried to write and post this ASAP, so haven't checked for any mistakes...I suck, I know. SORRY. Maybe still leave a little review, though? Please?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The majority of people sitting at the Gryffindor table in seventh or eighth year were leaning their heads on the table and groaning. Hermione was pouring pumpkin juice for herself, looking smug.

"I don't want to say I told you so," she said, grinning at Ron, Draco and Ginny, "but I did tell you so."

"Shut up, Hermione," Ginny moaned, massaging her temples.

"I feel like I've been trampled by a horde of Hippogriffs," Ron grunted.

"You had three Firewhiskeys and went to bed, you lightweight," Draco snapped.

Ron turned pink. "Don't go yelling it out loud! I'm not proud of it. Did I miss anything interesting, though?"

Draco immediately took an interest in his breakfast. Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks.

"Harry was there for a bit, he came with Blaise and Pansy," Hermione said.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "A Slytherin invasion?"

"No, Harry gate-crashed and bought them with him," Ginny explained.

Ron gaped as he tried to get over this betrayal. Hermione lifted his jaw shut. Ron was about to keep talking when Harry himself entered the Great Hall. No-one else saw anything wrong with what was going on, but those who were in the know were shocked. Pansy Parkinson was hanging off of his arm, laughing at things he was saying. Ron's jaw fell open again as Hermione's hand fell into her lap. Draco dropped his piece of toast in his cup of pumpkin juice. Ginny had her head in her hands, so didn't notice, but she probably would have dropped something as well. Blaise was walking behind the pair of them, also looking confused. Harry turned his head and saw the shocked trio staring at him. He gave them a quick smile before being tugged to the Slytherin table by Pansy. He had been quite taken aback by her sudden change in attitude towards him as well. She had warmed up a lot to his company since their talk the previous night, and she had promptly latched onto him and seemed to have taken a shine to him. She wasn't so bad after all, Harry thought.

...

Potions later that day was sufficiently awkward. The events of the previous evening were plaguing on both Harry and Draco's minds, although neither were inclined to bring it up. They carried on worked in silence, only breaking it to politely ask to borrow the knife, or how many stirs were needed. Neither of them seemed particularly inclined to start a conversation. This surprised Draco, who was dreading Harry starting to chirp on about something, most likely about dancing. When he didn't say anything, he became confused, Draco wasn't saying anything because he was embarrassed. What did Harry have to be ashamed of? Draco had convinced him to dance. His curiosity was killing him.

"So," Draco ventured cautiously.

Harry looked up from the roots he was slicing. "So?" he replied.

"Never mind," Draco said hastily, cursing himself for being such a coward. Why was he so nervous about talking to Potter all of a sudden?

"Are you sure?" he sounded unconvinced.

"I'm still a little hungover," Draco said as explanation.

Harry made a noise of comprehension, and went back to the roots. Draco inexplicably got the urge to continue talking to him.

"So, when did you and Pansy become close like that?" he said, pleased he managed to get out a sentence.

Now it was Harry's turn to quickly scrabble for words.

"I don't know. She just decided to give me a chance, I guess."

"That doesn't sound like Pansy."

"Well, why don't you ask her yourself then?" Harry snapped.

Draco jumped back in shock.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," Harry said.

"That's alright," Draco sniffed, turning his attention back to the potion.

There was a few moments of awkward silence between them.

Draco let out an exasperated breath. "Ok, I can't take this anymore."

Harry turned to him in question, an eyebrow raised.

"Last night?" Draco said.

Harry still looked blank.

"The dancing?" Draco mouthed.

"Oh. Yeah, what about it?" Harry asked, subtly pinching his leg under the desk to keep himself convincing.

"You sound awfully casual, Potter."

Harry shrugged. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't?"

"Potter, we slow-danced," Draco hissed, keeping his voice down, "I rested my head on you and you sound like this is normal, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sounding so casual about it because I presumed you were drunk when it happened. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Be embarrassed about it for a while, then move on. Alcohol does stupid things to people and most people will probably have forgotten about it."

Draco was stunned and at a loss for words, for once.

"You're right. I didn't think about it like that. But you danced too, don't put all the blame on me! It takes two to tango, after all!"

Harry was nonplussed. "A tango, was it? I thought it was more of a waltz, personally."

"Shows what you know about dancing."

"Both of us know that you know a lot, even in an inebriated state."

Draco shot him a poisonous look. "It didn't mean anything. Just keep that in mind."

Harry smiled to hide the pain. "I'd be concerned if it had."

The lesson ended, and the boys left the lesson without another word to each other. Pansy promptly headed over to Harry and linked her arm through his.

"How was Potions?" she asked, grinning.

Harry suddenly got the impression that now that she knew about his crush on Draco, she'd never shut up.

"It was alright," Harry replied.

"Do you have a boyfriend yet?" she pressed on, teasingly.

"No, Pansy."

"Poor you!" she said, ruffling his hair.

Harry pretended to be highly affronted.

"Damn it, woman! Why have you befouled me so?" he cried out, covering his hair from view. He quickly ran off to the nearest bathroom to sort out his hair. A complete waste of time, he felt, but he was supposed to still be playing Draco. He took the comb out of his inside pocket and set to work. Pansy hadn't fatally damaged it, and he easily put it back in its place. He had quickly picked up on how to do the hairstyle that Draco favoured, and secretly quite liked it, not that it would ever work on his hair. He spun around to leave the bathroom and jumped out of his skin.

"Gah!"

"Calm yourself, Potter. It's only me," said Draco, looking bored.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is a toilet, you twat. What do you think?"

This happened to be a lie, but Draco was a good actor, so Harry was convinced.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Harry said, before making his way to leave.

"Potter."

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"I hope you're prepared for this Saturday."

Harry blinked a couple of times. "Excuse me?"

"The Quidditch match? Gryffindor versus Slytherin? The final test between you and me to determine once and for all who is the champion? Ring any bells?" Draco said, incredulously.

"Oh, right. Quidditch, of course."

Draco was still looking expectantly at him.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Not going to reply with a taunt? Some boorish barb about how you're better than me?"

Harry smiled a little sadly. "Don't you think we're past that now?"

"So you concede?" Draco demanded, ignoring Harry's statement.

Harry shook his head, chuckling. "Whatever, Malfoy. See you on the pitch."

Harry turned to leave again.

"Oh, and Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Your hair is looking rather sexy, if I may say so."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Thank you?"

With that, he swiftly left the bathroom, grinning.

Draco leant over the sinks, sighing and quickly splashed some water on his face. Had he really just said that? Had he just called Harry's hair sexy? It was because it was his own, he reassured himself. Simply that. He expelled another sigh and looked in the mirror. He admired the dark, artfully mussed hair temporarily on his own head and decided that maybe Harry's hair was rather sexy as well. Upon realising this thought, his head quickly made contact with the sink with a loud clunk that resonated around the bathroom walls. Swearing profusely from the pain, Draco clutched a hand to his aching forehead and left the bathroom, a torrent of foul language still spewing from his mouth.

The looks on the students of Hogwarts faces as Harry Potter staggered through the hallways clutching his forehead in pain were priceless. Draco burst into a fit of laughter once he was safely away from them all. Once everything was back to normal he decided he would convince Harry to do it on a regular basis. He was struck with another profound and terrifying thought.

When did Potter become Harry?

Yay! Maybe not so oblivious Draco!

And oh, I love so many quotes. But these are my top six. (No particular order.)

"You're the one who is weak. You'll never know love or friendship. And I feel sorry for you."

"It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"There's no need to call me 'sir' Professor."

"Just because you have the emotional range of teaspoon doesn't mean we all have."

"Not my daughter, you bitch!"

And so many more...Pretty much everything the twins say. Or any word on any page from any of the books.

ALL HAIL QUEEN ROWLING.

Another question? Why not.

Favourite canon ship from HP?

(for those of you who don't know, a canon ship is a pairing that actually happens in the books. You probably knew that, by oh well!)

REEEEEEEEVIEEEEEW!