Not An Option (H/D, 14A)
Now that the big reveal has been done, here's my second entry to hpslashnotsmut. This fic was written for acromantular:
Title: Not An Option
Author: sesheta_66
Giftee: acromantular
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: 14A
Word Count: 5341
Author's Notes: Original request can be found here. I hope I've managed to capture most of what you wanted. Many thanks to my awesome and speedy beta, alaana_fair.
Summary: The story begins as Draco is forced to accept the terms of a bet he made with Blaise, and lost. To hold up his end of the bet, and not suffer an even worse fate, he is now faced with a month of being friends with Harry. The problem is, Harry can't know about it, so how will Draco suddenly become his new best mate?
"That's not an option, Draco," said Blaise.
"Nope. Blaise won fair and square," Millicent pointed out, ever so helpfully. "Now you have to pay up."
"But ..." Draco began, still winded from the exertion of the challenge. He may be a top seeker, but land-based obstacle courses were clearly not his strength. He should have known Blaise would do something underhanded.
"You agreed," Blaise interrupted.
"But ..." he tried again. What he had agreed to was a competition wherein they made their way through an obstacle course. He had visions of flying on his broomstick, whilst casting spells to cause objects to move out of his path. Instead, after they had agreed to the terms of the bet, Blaise had informed him that the competition was, in fact, to be completed without broomsticks, without wands, and without magic. It had been a purely physical competition. Draco was certainly in shape, but he was still smaller and thinner than Blaise, so it had really been no competition at all. Blaise had rounded out his humiliation with a wrestling match, which was over before it had even begun. Any other time, he might have enjoyed rolling around on the ground with the rather attractive boy. But not today.
"But you didn't think you'd lose, right?" Millicent chimed in, sounding gleeful.
"Well ..." Draco tried. Stupid Blaise and his underhanded tricks. Of course, he did have to admire his Slytherin slyness. He just didn't have to admit it.
"But you did lose," Blaise cooed. "And now you have to live with it. For a month." Draco groaned. "One month of cozying up to Wonder Boy. You will be his shadow, spending all your free time together. You two will be best friends in no time."
"How the hell am I supposed to ..." Draco tried to argue.
"That's your problem," Blaise pointed out. "A deal's a deal. You knew the consequences. You have one week to insinuate yourself into Potter's life. I don't care how you do it, but you will do it, or there will be even tougher consequences. Every day beyond a week adds another week to your time. And if you fail to hold up your end of the bargain ..."
"Blaise chooses your punishment," Millicent finished for him.
"And this will pale in comparison, I assure you," added Blaise.
"But ..."
"No buts. You'll do this, because we had a bet and you lost. You are a Slytherin, which makes you cunning. You figure it out. Potty is so bad at Potions, and you're Snape's favourite, why not tutor him? Get Snape to make him your lab partner. Surely you can worm your way into his life if you spend classes with him as your partner regularly."
"Perhaps ..."
"Perhaps? What the hell is that? I've just handed you a plan on a silver platter, and you - oh great Prince of Slytherin - can't make that work? Come, come now, Draco. Surely you're not giving up that easily?"
"Fine!" he barked, and marched off to the dormitory. As an afterthought, he called down the stairs, "And don't call me that!" slamming the door for good measure.
As he sat in his room, he gave Blaise's idea some thought. He had actually planned on suggesting that he tutor Potter, but hadn't thought about enlisting Snape's help in class. The idea certainly warranted consideration. Yes ... this could actually work.
Sunday evening after supper, he approached Snape, asking to speak with him.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Um ... perhaps we could speak somewhere more private?"
"Very well, then. I'm presently on my way to the dungeon to prepare for tomorrow morning's lesson. Follow me, and we may speak there."
When they entered the dungeon, Draco volunteered, "Is there anything I can assist you with, Professor?"
"Certainly. You may take down the supplies we'll need for tomorrow's class -- the list is on the board -- and place them onto the table in the supply cupboard." Draco did as he was asked, and when he emerged from the cupboard, Snape had completed his preparations, and was looking expectantly at him.
"Now, Draco, what is it that you wanted to discuss with me?"
This might be more difficult than he had thought. "Well, Sir, I know that prefects are expected to take on additional tasks to assist other students, generally those that need help in certain areas."
"Yes?" He looked at Draco sceptically.
"Well, Sir, I thought that, since he's so terrible at Potions, and since you yourself had to give him remedial classes before ..."
"Are we talking about Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you suggesting that you wish to assist him with his Potions work?"
"Yes?" Draco said, his response sounding more like a question.
"Now why do I find this difficult to believe?"
"Um ..."
"Quite. Draco, you and Mr. Potter are not what one would call friends. You are rarely even civil to one another. Why the sudden interest in helping him, of all people?"
"Well, I have to put in a certain number of hours tutoring or otherwise helping other students, right?"
"That is correct."
"Well, this is my last year, and I haven't put any hours in yet."
"Correct again, but that still doesn't explain why you would choose Potter."
"Well, Sir, may I be perfectly honest with you?"
"Oh, please do," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, Sir, what better way to earn my hours? I know Potter. He needs help. He can't expect to pass his NEWT in Potions without some kind of assistance."
"Yes, Draco, I agree. But as fascinating and accurate as your assessment is, perhaps you could get ... to ... the ... point."
"Well, truth be told, I think I would quite enjoy ordering him around, and generally making him feel like an idiot."
Snape's eyes widened, clearly surprised to hear Draco admit that so readily. He had to laugh. Well, if a grunt with a hint of a smile could be considered a laugh. Draco figured that was as good as it got with Snape.
"Very well, then, Draco. I will arrange it."
He let out the breath he was holding. "Thank you," Draco said, surprised that Snape had agreed so readily, and relieved that his plan was working out so far.
"But," he began, looking Draco in the eye, "despite the fact that I rather relish the notion of you tormenting our local celebrity, I do expect that you will help Mr. Potter achieve his NEWT. That is what you are signing up for here. This is not a game, however much fun you may have at it."
"I understand, Sir. I will do my best."
"See that you do." Draco couldn't help noticing the twinkle in Snape's eyes. His Head of House was really enjoying this.
"Oh, and Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Perhaps it would be best if Potter were my lab partner in class. That way we could get used to working together."
"An excellent idea. Consider it done. Was there anything else?"
"No, Sir. Thank you very much. I'll see you in class tomorrow."
"Good night, Draco."
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The next morning after breakfast, Draco made a point of arriving in the Potions class early, to be sure he was seated before Potter arrived. And, if he was early enough, he might get the chance to ask Snape if he could please not disclose to Potter that the tutoring and partnering were his idea. He couldn't believe he had forgotten to mention that the night before. Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to speak to the professor, as he arrived after most other students.
"Before we begin class, I want to discuss your upcoming NEWTs." There was a collective groan from the class. "As you all know, you will be sitting your exams at the end of the year, and I expect that all of you ... yes, even you, Mr. Potter ... will pass. To that end, I have decided to pair you up according to ability, and give some of you ..." He looked pointedly at Harry. "... the opportunity to improve. In turn, more advanced students may develop their leadership skills by assisting others." He cast a quick glance, with a lifted eyebrow, at Draco.
"I will advise you of your new laboratory partners tomorrow in class. There will be no debate about the pairings. My decision is final. Do not bother asking me to reconsider. Further, I will ask those interested in providing tutoring services, especially those prefects in our midst, to submit your names today. Again, I will determine the best pairings, and my word is final." He took a moment to look around the class for emphasis. "Now, let us get on with today's lesson."
``````````````````````````````````````
Sure enough, the next Potions class had Harry paired up with Malfoy, and much to his dismay, he had Malfoy as a tutor. As Snape announced the pairings, he had raised an eyebrow in challenge to Harry, who had uncharacteristically clamped his mouth shut and merely glared at their professor.
Draco, on his part, was actually quite impressed. Not only had he managed to set everything up with Snape's assistance, but his Head of House had made it appear as part of the natural course of the NEWT year. He could see that Harry was seething, but he stayed remarkably quiet about it all. Draco put a scowl on his face, trying to look at least a little bit displeased by the assignment.
"Malfoy," Harry said as he took his seat next to Draco.
"Potter."
Class went surprisingly well, as Snape hadn't seemed inclined to breathe down Harry's neck when he was partnered with Draco. As a result, Harry actually did seem to do better.
"Well, Potter," he said as they were cleaning up their desk. "That went surprisingly ..."
"Well?" Harry offered.
"I was going to say incident-free."
"Whatever."
"Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. Please remain after class so we may discuss your study schedule." Snape waited until the rest of the students had left before continuing. "Before you say anything -- either of you -- I am not going to change my mind. I realize that the two of you have not been able to put aside your animosity for each other before now. I expect that to end today. You are both of age, and I expect your behaviour and attitude to reflect that. I trust that you understand."
They both nodded. "Mr. Malfoy, while I realize I am putting you in an unfortunate position, I believe that you are prepared to take on the responsibility. And Mr. Potter, kindly put aside any ridiculous notions you may have of being good at Potions. You are not. I will not argue your ability to pull something out of a hat to obtain an Exceeds Expectations on your OWL, but this is far more complicated work. Accept the fact that you would benefit from assistance, and that Mr. Malfoy is the best candidate to provide you with that."
"But Hermione ..."
"Is your friend, and is therefore likely to let things slide. No matter what either of you have to say on the matter, the subject is closed." He looked at each of them, daring them to challenge him. "That settled, we need to discuss your study schedule. I will be monitoring your progress, and for the next four weeks, I expect you to put in ten hours per week."
"What?" they both exclaimed. Snape only smirked at the two of them. Draco groaned inwardly, recognizing that he should have known it wouldn't be so easy, but also knowing that he had no choice. He, after all, had initiated it. Perfect.
"Yes, gentlemen. Ten hours per week. You will work on reviewing all the potions studied so far this year. After four weeks, we will see how you have progressed, Mr. Potter. Then, and only then, shall I consider revising the schedule. I will leave the details to the two of you, but ten hours it is. Of course," he smiled at them, "you are welcome to make it longer if you wish."
"But Quidditch ..." Harry began.
"Will still be there, Mr. Potter. Work it out between you." He made his way to the back of the dungeon. "I believe you have classes," he said, dismissing them as he walked out the door.
``````````````````````````````````````
The next day, Professor McGonagall had a surprise at the end of class.
"It has come to my attention that Professor Snape has assigned study partners, and tutor pairings for his NEWT students." Uh-oh. Draco had the sinking feeling that she was about to VETO his assignment. Shit! Bloody Zabini would make his life an absolute hell if he didn't do this. Why had he agreed to that bet in the first place?
"Each of you come to the front and get your assignments from me." What? What was she talking about? Draco had let his mind wander, and now had no idea what she had just said. He gathered his books together, and made his way to the front of the class just as the last of the other students was leaving. As he approached her, she smirked -- where had she learned that? Clearly she had been working alongside Snape for too long.
"Mr. Malfoy," she said as she handed the paper to him. "It seems that you and Mr. Potter will be spending even more quality time together."
"What?"
"I understand you are tutoring him in Potions." Draco nodded. "Well, now he is tutoring you in Transfiguration." Well, shit.
What had he started? This new arrangement was bound to last longer than a month. Isn't this just great?
"Um, professor?" She looked down her nose at him in classic McGonagall style. At least she wasn't smirking. "Exactly how much quality time do you expect us to spend together?"
"I understand Professor Snape assigned you ten hours for Potions. I think another ten for Transfiguration should do it." She pursed her lips as a look of utter disbelief and defeat settled in over Draco's face. "I am sure the two of you can work this out. Each of you has spare classes, evenings and weekends."
"But Quidditch ... and I'm a prefect."
"Yes, and Mr. Potter is captain of the Gryffindor team. Work. It. Out." Without another word, she exited the classroom, leaving Draco to wonder if Blaise's alternate punishment might not have been better.
``````````````````````````````````````
"Malfoy," Harry said as he approached the Slytherin table at supper that evening. "Did McGonagall speak to you?"
"Yes."
"Right, then. Shall we meet in the library after supper, at seven o'clock?"
"Sure."
Well that went oddly well, Draco thought as he looked up at the head table. Snape looked slightly perplexed, and McGonagall had a small grin on her face.
"So you and your new best friend have a date tonight then?"
"Shut it, Blaise." What had he got himself into?
``````````````````````````````````````
At seven o'clock, Draco entered the library to find Harry already there, alone, with his Potions text open. Draco was surprised that he wasn't met with a sneer as he approached the Gryffindor. "Potter."
"Malfoy."
"So how do you suppose we deal with this?"
"Well, I brought a copy of my schedule, and the dates for Quidditch games and practices, and the Hogsmeade dates, and ..."
"You can't possibly be serious, Potter"
"Perfectly."
Draco was stunned. He stared in open disbelief. "But ..."
"But what, Malfoy? You heard what Snape said as well as I did. McGonagall was no less convincing."
"So what?"
"So it means that we are now joined at the hip, so to speak. We're stuck with each other for twenty hours every week for the next four weeks. I don't know about you, but I would like to make sure it doesn't carry on any longer than that."
He had a point. "What about all your rule-breaking skills? Surely you can come up with ..."
"Leave it alone, Malfoy. Let's just get on with things, and make the best of it. I will admit I could use the help in Potions, and you could use help in Transfiguration. Let's just work at improving our marks, and we can go our separate ways, yeah? As of right now, you're my new best friend."
Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry, suddenly wary. "What?" Harry asked.
"What was that you just said about being best friends?"
"Relax, Malfoy. Obviously that will never happen. It's a figure of speech. I am perfectly comfortable in the knowledge that you will hate me forever. Oh, and the feeling is mutual, by the way. We just need to look at this as a month-long reprieve."
"Four weeks."
"Right. Four weeks."
They worked out their schedule so that they put in seven hours a week during spare classes, eight hours in the evenings, and the rest on weekends, leaving room to adjust the schedule as necessary to accommodate any extra Quidditch practices that might come up. All in all, they were off to a fair start.
``````````````````````````````````````
A week into their new schedule, they found themselves in the Potions lab. "Clockwise, Potter!" Draco yelled as Harry made to stir the potion the wrong way. "Pay attention!"
"Sod off, Malfoy. It was an honest mistake."
"Right. For a third year! You’re not that stupid. Oh, don't look at me like that. Something's distracting you. What is it?"
Harry eyed him reservedly, gaining a raised eyebrow from Draco. "I didn't get much sleep last night. Nightmare."
"Well, just make sure you pay more attention. You could have ruined all the work we did so far." Draco's voice held no contempt.
Harry stared at him. "What? Aren't you going to tell me to suck it up and just deal with things? I dunno, perhaps tell me I'm a whiner, or something like that?"
"You're not the only one who has nightmares," was all Draco said in reply.
``````````````````````````````````````
Two days later, it was Harry's turn to get frustrated. "Malfoy! Malfoy, what the hell is wrong with you today?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. You are better than this. Your spell work is sloppy today, like you just don't care."
"Well, perhaps I don't."
"I don't believe that for a moment. I know you better than that. This should be easy for you by now, so what gives?"
Draco hesitated, but decided there was no point not saying anything. "Remember I told you that you're not the only one who has nightmares?"
"Mhm."
"Well, last night they were bad."
"Voldemort?"
"Who else?" They shared a knowing look between them, and in that instance Draco felt that something between them had changed. Nothing earth-shattering, but still. Perhaps the walls they had put up against each other had developed some small cracks.
"So, shall we call it a night?" Harry offered.
"What was it like?" Draco asked, ignoring Harry's question.
"What was what like?" he asked warily.
"Facing Voldemort. I mean, he scared the shit out of me, but he wasn't trying to kill me. Well, not until the end, anyway."
"Dunno. I don't like talking about it."
"Come on now. You can't get out of it that easily. What does the great Harry Potter have to say about facing off against the most powerful wizard that ever lived?"
"Forget it," Harry said, as he began stuffing his things into his bag.
"No really, Harry. I want to know. Not the stupid Prophet's version of events, or your countless fans' tales of your glory. Just the truth."
Harry hesitated only a moment before putting his bag down and taking a seat on one of the desks, dragging a hand through his messy mop of hair. "The truth? I suppose I'd have to say it was scary, but more just the thought of it." He looked at Draco, seemingly at a loss for words. "I suppose the idea of fighting him was scarier than actually doing it."
Draco shot him a patented you're full of shite look, and he continued. "No, really. Once I'm in a situation, I just stop thinking about what I'm going to do, and I act on impulse."
"And afterwards?"
"That's when everything hits me, and I start thinking about what might have happened, had I stopped to think about what I was throwing myself into."
``````````````````````````````````````
Another week passed, and their lessons were going well. On one Hogsmeade Saturday, they had decided to stay back to go over a particularly difficult Transfiguration spell they had learned that week.
The weather was nice, so they had been working outside. On their way back to the castle, they stopped to watch the Hufflepuff Quidditch team practice. At the sight of the school's top two seekers, the newest player, currently being trained as replacement beater, promptly toppled off his broom.
"Maybe we should leave them to their practice," Harry said, laughing. "I think we're making the poor boy nervous."
Draco noticed for the first time just how attractive Harry was when he laughed. Probably because he didn't usually laugh around him. Draco thought that he wouldn't mind seeing Harry laugh more often. Whoa! Where did that come from?
``````````````````````````````````````
As it turned out, both of them had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that their forced partnership had helped them. Their marks had improved, and their constant bickering and one-upmanship had all but disappeared. In fact, it felt like they were actually becoming friends. Of course, that was too good to be true.
About three weeks in, Blaise was visibly pissed. "It was supposed to be a bad thing," he whined to Millicent at lunch. "Now it seems that he really is Potter's best mate." He looked over at Ron who looked equally irritated at the sight of Harry and Draco entering the Great Hall together, both smiling and chatting away. He smiled as an idea formed in his mind.
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"It was Malfoy who arranged it. He lost a bet with Blaise, and had to insinuate himself into your life for a month as his payment."
Harry was dumbfounded. He had been so angry at first when Snape had started the ball rolling, and had thought Draco felt the same way. And then, over the past three weeks, they had become -- what were they? Friends, he had thought. But apparently that was a lie. Typical. Bloody Malfoy.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Ron asked.
"Do?"
"Yeah, you know, do! Are you going to tell McGonagall?"
"What for?"
"You ... you can't be serious. You have to do something."
"No I don't. I will finish the time. There's just over a week left, and both of our marks have improved so much that the professors can't make us keep this up. It has worked, they'll see that, and it will be over. End of story."
"But you have to get Malfoy back for this!"
"To what end, Ron? I have actually enjoyed not fighting with him all the time. Keeping that up is draining, and I'm not willing to go back to that. I think, no matter what started this whole thing, that I would rather just move on."
Ron stared at him, gobsmacked. Of course, Harry didn't tell Ron what he really had in mind.
``````````````````````````````````````
"So, Malfoy, made any good wagers lately?"
Draco's gut constricted at the remark. This couldn't be good if Harry was calling him Malfoy again, and was glaring at him. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean. A little wager with Blaise, a little arrangement with Snape. He doesn't know, of course, the real reason behind your request, does he?"
"You wouldn't!"
"Oh, wouldn't I?" Harry walked up to Draco, invading his personal space. It felt reminiscent of old times. Old times that Draco didn't much want to revisit. "Did I ever tell you that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin?"
"What?" Draco was thrown by that. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, Draco." Harry put great emphasis on his name. "I suppose it means that I can be rather resourceful when I want something." Draco felt his stomach do a flip. "And right now, I think I want something from you." He took a step closer, their bodies almost touching, staring directly into Draco's eyes with an anger that had been absent for weeks.
"I'm sorry," Draco said lamely in response, turning away to put some distance between them. Their close proximity was threatening to result in a reaction from him that he didn't want Harry to see. Especially not now.
"Right."
"No, really, Harry. I am. Well, I wasn't at first, but I am now."
"I don't believe that for a minute. But never mind. An apology isn't what I'm after."
"So what exactly do you want from me?" he asked, trying to mask the fear he was feeling. This could end up being worse than Blaise's alternate punishment.
"Lessons."
"What?" he asked, sure he hadn't heard correctly. "We're already doing that."
"Not the sort of lessons I'm talking about." Draco narrowed his eyes in response. "Oh, relax. I don't have anything sordid in mind." Harry closed the gap between them again, this time practically pinning Draco against a desk in the process. He leaned in and whispered in Draco's ear, "You might like that too much." Then he pulled back.
Draco could feel the rush of blood reddening his face, while a pool of heat settled in his groin. Mustering up as much feigned indignation as he could, he retorted. "You wish, Potter." Thank Merlin for robes, and the ability they afforded him to hide his traitorous body's reaction.
"Well, you do look rather cute when you blush," Harry responded with a wink. "But rest assured, your virtue -- such that it is -- will remain intact. What I have in mind are Dark Arts lessons."
Draco frowned at him in confusion. "But you're tops in Defence ..."
"Oh, no, my Slytherin friend. I'm not talking about Defence. I want you to teach me some dark spells." Comprehension dawned on Draco. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Oh, no," he said with a smirk. "How could I possibly resist the idea of corrupting the great Harry Potter?"
"Don't do that." Harry glared at him.
"What's that?"
"Don't call me the great Harry Potter, or the Saviour, or the Chosen One, or any other stupid name."
"Why?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.
"I hate it. Voldemort tried to kill me, which set a course for my life that I had no choice in. It's not like I asked for the fame. Frankly, I'd just like to forget all about it."
"You're serious!" Draco exclaimed. "How can you forget about all you did?"
"Well, okay, maybe forget is too strong a word. I would just like to get on with my life. Anything I did was with help from great witches and wizards around me. I played my part, but that's all. My part just happened to be in Voldemort's face. I'm tired of people making more of it than that."
"Makes sense," said Draco, impressed despite himself. "But don't expect me to stop calling you whatever name comes to mind. You can rest assured in the knowledge that I am not fawning all over your greatness."
Harry laughed at that comment. "Fair enough."
"I'll teach you some dark spells, but we can't exactly do that in a spare classroom."
Harry nodded. "I have just the spot," and winked at Draco, flashing him a smile. A twinge of warmth suddenly stirred inside Draco. Oh, God. I'm in trouble.
``````````````````````````````````````
Over the next week, they had spent even more time together than before, much to their friends' dismay. On mutual agreement, however, they hadn't told anyone why, nor that they were spending a good deal of that time in the Room of Requirement. Of course, this risked their friends coming to their own conclusions, but neither one cared.
After his initial anger had worn off, Harry seemed to relax, and they became comfortable around each other again. Draco sensed a bit of tension, and knew that Harry was holding back a bit, but he had apologized, and there was nothing else to be said.
"You never did tell me why you wanted to learn dark spells. Voldemort is gone, after all. What do you need these for?"
"Curiosity, I suppose. I wondered what the pull of the Dark Arts was like."
"And?"
"And I think I kind of like it. I mean there's this feeling of raw power that isn't there with other magic. It's just ... I don't know."
"Exactly." Draco smiled at Harry. "Oh my God! I really have corrupted the great Harry Potter."
"I suppose you have," Harry agreed. When Draco looked at him, he saw a hint of something ... different ... in Harry's eyes. "But no worries. I have no plans to take over the world. I just wanted to know what the big mystery was all about, and now I know. Thanks for that."
"It's not like I had much of a choice," Draco replied.
"Sure you did. You don't seriously think I would have gone to Snape or McGonagall, do you?"
"Why you ..."
"I told you I was resourceful." Harry smiled and winked at him. As he felt the familiar blush rise over his face, and warmth spread elsewhere in his body, Draco thought to himself that Harry really needed to stop doing that.
``````````````````````````````````````
The last night of the month-long 'punishment', they both sat recovering from the latest spell-casting, seated side-by-side on cushions on the floor of the Room of Requirement, backs against the wall.
"Why did you agree to take the bet to begin with?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. It was the first time they had talked about it since Harry had confronted him.
"I don't know, really. I guess maybe it was as good an excuse as any to stop the never-ending battle between us."
"You mean you lost on purpose?" Harry looked at him incredulously.
"Hell, no! I am a Slytherin after all. I was just hedging my bet. I figured it wasn't such a horrible consequence if I lost, but everyone else figured it would be the worst punishment possible for me. So either way, I won."
"Did you just say you won?"
"I suppose I did."
"Being stuck with me for a month was a win?"
"Four weeks. And don't make too much out of it, Potter. It's almost over, and we can go back to our lives, the way things used to be, and we can continue hating each other."
"So you still hate me, then?"
"No, I suppose I don't," Draco admitted, shaking his head. "You know I don't."
"But you want to go back to the way things were?"
"Don't you?"
"No, I don't really think I do," Harry said, as he turned his head to face Draco. "In fact," he lifted himself up, and swung one leg over Draco, straddling the other boy, who was looking up at him wide-eyed. "I think I'd rather be doing something else entirely." He placed his hands against the wall, either side of Draco's head, and leaned in, brushing his lips against the blonde's, in the merest hint of a kiss.
Draco looked up into Harry's eyes, which were now half shut, and wrapped his arms around his neck, dragging his fingers through his hair. Harry smiled and leaned back in, pressing kisses to his temple, his cheek, his chin, and his mouth. As Harry licked a trail along his lower lip, Draco let out a soft moan, lips parting to grant Harry entry.
As his tongue sought out and met Harry's, Draco’s mind formed only one thought: About damn time.
"So, Draco, shall we go back to hating each other now?"
"No, Harry,” he replied, pulling him in for another kiss. “That's not an option."
Title: Not An Option
Author: sesheta_66
Giftee: acromantular
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: 14A
Word Count: 5341
Author's Notes: Original request can be found here. I hope I've managed to capture most of what you wanted. Many thanks to my awesome and speedy beta, alaana_fair.
Summary: The story begins as Draco is forced to accept the terms of a bet he made with Blaise, and lost. To hold up his end of the bet, and not suffer an even worse fate, he is now faced with a month of being friends with Harry. The problem is, Harry can't know about it, so how will Draco suddenly become his new best mate?
"That's not an option, Draco," said Blaise.
"Nope. Blaise won fair and square," Millicent pointed out, ever so helpfully. "Now you have to pay up."
"But ..." Draco began, still winded from the exertion of the challenge. He may be a top seeker, but land-based obstacle courses were clearly not his strength. He should have known Blaise would do something underhanded.
"You agreed," Blaise interrupted.
"But ..." he tried again. What he had agreed to was a competition wherein they made their way through an obstacle course. He had visions of flying on his broomstick, whilst casting spells to cause objects to move out of his path. Instead, after they had agreed to the terms of the bet, Blaise had informed him that the competition was, in fact, to be completed without broomsticks, without wands, and without magic. It had been a purely physical competition. Draco was certainly in shape, but he was still smaller and thinner than Blaise, so it had really been no competition at all. Blaise had rounded out his humiliation with a wrestling match, which was over before it had even begun. Any other time, he might have enjoyed rolling around on the ground with the rather attractive boy. But not today.
"But you didn't think you'd lose, right?" Millicent chimed in, sounding gleeful.
"Well ..." Draco tried. Stupid Blaise and his underhanded tricks. Of course, he did have to admire his Slytherin slyness. He just didn't have to admit it.
"But you did lose," Blaise cooed. "And now you have to live with it. For a month." Draco groaned. "One month of cozying up to Wonder Boy. You will be his shadow, spending all your free time together. You two will be best friends in no time."
"How the hell am I supposed to ..." Draco tried to argue.
"That's your problem," Blaise pointed out. "A deal's a deal. You knew the consequences. You have one week to insinuate yourself into Potter's life. I don't care how you do it, but you will do it, or there will be even tougher consequences. Every day beyond a week adds another week to your time. And if you fail to hold up your end of the bargain ..."
"Blaise chooses your punishment," Millicent finished for him.
"And this will pale in comparison, I assure you," added Blaise.
"But ..."
"No buts. You'll do this, because we had a bet and you lost. You are a Slytherin, which makes you cunning. You figure it out. Potty is so bad at Potions, and you're Snape's favourite, why not tutor him? Get Snape to make him your lab partner. Surely you can worm your way into his life if you spend classes with him as your partner regularly."
"Perhaps ..."
"Perhaps? What the hell is that? I've just handed you a plan on a silver platter, and you - oh great Prince of Slytherin - can't make that work? Come, come now, Draco. Surely you're not giving up that easily?"
"Fine!" he barked, and marched off to the dormitory. As an afterthought, he called down the stairs, "And don't call me that!" slamming the door for good measure.
As he sat in his room, he gave Blaise's idea some thought. He had actually planned on suggesting that he tutor Potter, but hadn't thought about enlisting Snape's help in class. The idea certainly warranted consideration. Yes ... this could actually work.
Sunday evening after supper, he approached Snape, asking to speak with him.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Um ... perhaps we could speak somewhere more private?"
"Very well, then. I'm presently on my way to the dungeon to prepare for tomorrow morning's lesson. Follow me, and we may speak there."
When they entered the dungeon, Draco volunteered, "Is there anything I can assist you with, Professor?"
"Certainly. You may take down the supplies we'll need for tomorrow's class -- the list is on the board -- and place them onto the table in the supply cupboard." Draco did as he was asked, and when he emerged from the cupboard, Snape had completed his preparations, and was looking expectantly at him.
"Now, Draco, what is it that you wanted to discuss with me?"
This might be more difficult than he had thought. "Well, Sir, I know that prefects are expected to take on additional tasks to assist other students, generally those that need help in certain areas."
"Yes?" He looked at Draco sceptically.
"Well, Sir, I thought that, since he's so terrible at Potions, and since you yourself had to give him remedial classes before ..."
"Are we talking about Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you suggesting that you wish to assist him with his Potions work?"
"Yes?" Draco said, his response sounding more like a question.
"Now why do I find this difficult to believe?"
"Um ..."
"Quite. Draco, you and Mr. Potter are not what one would call friends. You are rarely even civil to one another. Why the sudden interest in helping him, of all people?"
"Well, I have to put in a certain number of hours tutoring or otherwise helping other students, right?"
"That is correct."
"Well, this is my last year, and I haven't put any hours in yet."
"Correct again, but that still doesn't explain why you would choose Potter."
"Well, Sir, may I be perfectly honest with you?"
"Oh, please do," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, Sir, what better way to earn my hours? I know Potter. He needs help. He can't expect to pass his NEWT in Potions without some kind of assistance."
"Yes, Draco, I agree. But as fascinating and accurate as your assessment is, perhaps you could get ... to ... the ... point."
"Well, truth be told, I think I would quite enjoy ordering him around, and generally making him feel like an idiot."
Snape's eyes widened, clearly surprised to hear Draco admit that so readily. He had to laugh. Well, if a grunt with a hint of a smile could be considered a laugh. Draco figured that was as good as it got with Snape.
"Very well, then, Draco. I will arrange it."
He let out the breath he was holding. "Thank you," Draco said, surprised that Snape had agreed so readily, and relieved that his plan was working out so far.
"But," he began, looking Draco in the eye, "despite the fact that I rather relish the notion of you tormenting our local celebrity, I do expect that you will help Mr. Potter achieve his NEWT. That is what you are signing up for here. This is not a game, however much fun you may have at it."
"I understand, Sir. I will do my best."
"See that you do." Draco couldn't help noticing the twinkle in Snape's eyes. His Head of House was really enjoying this.
"Oh, and Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Perhaps it would be best if Potter were my lab partner in class. That way we could get used to working together."
"An excellent idea. Consider it done. Was there anything else?"
"No, Sir. Thank you very much. I'll see you in class tomorrow."
"Good night, Draco."
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The next morning after breakfast, Draco made a point of arriving in the Potions class early, to be sure he was seated before Potter arrived. And, if he was early enough, he might get the chance to ask Snape if he could please not disclose to Potter that the tutoring and partnering were his idea. He couldn't believe he had forgotten to mention that the night before. Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to speak to the professor, as he arrived after most other students.
"Before we begin class, I want to discuss your upcoming NEWTs." There was a collective groan from the class. "As you all know, you will be sitting your exams at the end of the year, and I expect that all of you ... yes, even you, Mr. Potter ... will pass. To that end, I have decided to pair you up according to ability, and give some of you ..." He looked pointedly at Harry. "... the opportunity to improve. In turn, more advanced students may develop their leadership skills by assisting others." He cast a quick glance, with a lifted eyebrow, at Draco.
"I will advise you of your new laboratory partners tomorrow in class. There will be no debate about the pairings. My decision is final. Do not bother asking me to reconsider. Further, I will ask those interested in providing tutoring services, especially those prefects in our midst, to submit your names today. Again, I will determine the best pairings, and my word is final." He took a moment to look around the class for emphasis. "Now, let us get on with today's lesson."
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Sure enough, the next Potions class had Harry paired up with Malfoy, and much to his dismay, he had Malfoy as a tutor. As Snape announced the pairings, he had raised an eyebrow in challenge to Harry, who had uncharacteristically clamped his mouth shut and merely glared at their professor.
Draco, on his part, was actually quite impressed. Not only had he managed to set everything up with Snape's assistance, but his Head of House had made it appear as part of the natural course of the NEWT year. He could see that Harry was seething, but he stayed remarkably quiet about it all. Draco put a scowl on his face, trying to look at least a little bit displeased by the assignment.
"Malfoy," Harry said as he took his seat next to Draco.
"Potter."
Class went surprisingly well, as Snape hadn't seemed inclined to breathe down Harry's neck when he was partnered with Draco. As a result, Harry actually did seem to do better.
"Well, Potter," he said as they were cleaning up their desk. "That went surprisingly ..."
"Well?" Harry offered.
"I was going to say incident-free."
"Whatever."
"Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. Please remain after class so we may discuss your study schedule." Snape waited until the rest of the students had left before continuing. "Before you say anything -- either of you -- I am not going to change my mind. I realize that the two of you have not been able to put aside your animosity for each other before now. I expect that to end today. You are both of age, and I expect your behaviour and attitude to reflect that. I trust that you understand."
They both nodded. "Mr. Malfoy, while I realize I am putting you in an unfortunate position, I believe that you are prepared to take on the responsibility. And Mr. Potter, kindly put aside any ridiculous notions you may have of being good at Potions. You are not. I will not argue your ability to pull something out of a hat to obtain an Exceeds Expectations on your OWL, but this is far more complicated work. Accept the fact that you would benefit from assistance, and that Mr. Malfoy is the best candidate to provide you with that."
"But Hermione ..."
"Is your friend, and is therefore likely to let things slide. No matter what either of you have to say on the matter, the subject is closed." He looked at each of them, daring them to challenge him. "That settled, we need to discuss your study schedule. I will be monitoring your progress, and for the next four weeks, I expect you to put in ten hours per week."
"What?" they both exclaimed. Snape only smirked at the two of them. Draco groaned inwardly, recognizing that he should have known it wouldn't be so easy, but also knowing that he had no choice. He, after all, had initiated it. Perfect.
"Yes, gentlemen. Ten hours per week. You will work on reviewing all the potions studied so far this year. After four weeks, we will see how you have progressed, Mr. Potter. Then, and only then, shall I consider revising the schedule. I will leave the details to the two of you, but ten hours it is. Of course," he smiled at them, "you are welcome to make it longer if you wish."
"But Quidditch ..." Harry began.
"Will still be there, Mr. Potter. Work it out between you." He made his way to the back of the dungeon. "I believe you have classes," he said, dismissing them as he walked out the door.
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The next day, Professor McGonagall had a surprise at the end of class.
"It has come to my attention that Professor Snape has assigned study partners, and tutor pairings for his NEWT students." Uh-oh. Draco had the sinking feeling that she was about to VETO his assignment. Shit! Bloody Zabini would make his life an absolute hell if he didn't do this. Why had he agreed to that bet in the first place?
"Each of you come to the front and get your assignments from me." What? What was she talking about? Draco had let his mind wander, and now had no idea what she had just said. He gathered his books together, and made his way to the front of the class just as the last of the other students was leaving. As he approached her, she smirked -- where had she learned that? Clearly she had been working alongside Snape for too long.
"Mr. Malfoy," she said as she handed the paper to him. "It seems that you and Mr. Potter will be spending even more quality time together."
"What?"
"I understand you are tutoring him in Potions." Draco nodded. "Well, now he is tutoring you in Transfiguration." Well, shit.
What had he started? This new arrangement was bound to last longer than a month. Isn't this just great?
"Um, professor?" She looked down her nose at him in classic McGonagall style. At least she wasn't smirking. "Exactly how much quality time do you expect us to spend together?"
"I understand Professor Snape assigned you ten hours for Potions. I think another ten for Transfiguration should do it." She pursed her lips as a look of utter disbelief and defeat settled in over Draco's face. "I am sure the two of you can work this out. Each of you has spare classes, evenings and weekends."
"But Quidditch ... and I'm a prefect."
"Yes, and Mr. Potter is captain of the Gryffindor team. Work. It. Out." Without another word, she exited the classroom, leaving Draco to wonder if Blaise's alternate punishment might not have been better.
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"Malfoy," Harry said as he approached the Slytherin table at supper that evening. "Did McGonagall speak to you?"
"Yes."
"Right, then. Shall we meet in the library after supper, at seven o'clock?"
"Sure."
Well that went oddly well, Draco thought as he looked up at the head table. Snape looked slightly perplexed, and McGonagall had a small grin on her face.
"So you and your new best friend have a date tonight then?"
"Shut it, Blaise." What had he got himself into?
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At seven o'clock, Draco entered the library to find Harry already there, alone, with his Potions text open. Draco was surprised that he wasn't met with a sneer as he approached the Gryffindor. "Potter."
"Malfoy."
"So how do you suppose we deal with this?"
"Well, I brought a copy of my schedule, and the dates for Quidditch games and practices, and the Hogsmeade dates, and ..."
"You can't possibly be serious, Potter"
"Perfectly."
Draco was stunned. He stared in open disbelief. "But ..."
"But what, Malfoy? You heard what Snape said as well as I did. McGonagall was no less convincing."
"So what?"
"So it means that we are now joined at the hip, so to speak. We're stuck with each other for twenty hours every week for the next four weeks. I don't know about you, but I would like to make sure it doesn't carry on any longer than that."
He had a point. "What about all your rule-breaking skills? Surely you can come up with ..."
"Leave it alone, Malfoy. Let's just get on with things, and make the best of it. I will admit I could use the help in Potions, and you could use help in Transfiguration. Let's just work at improving our marks, and we can go our separate ways, yeah? As of right now, you're my new best friend."
Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry, suddenly wary. "What?" Harry asked.
"What was that you just said about being best friends?"
"Relax, Malfoy. Obviously that will never happen. It's a figure of speech. I am perfectly comfortable in the knowledge that you will hate me forever. Oh, and the feeling is mutual, by the way. We just need to look at this as a month-long reprieve."
"Four weeks."
"Right. Four weeks."
They worked out their schedule so that they put in seven hours a week during spare classes, eight hours in the evenings, and the rest on weekends, leaving room to adjust the schedule as necessary to accommodate any extra Quidditch practices that might come up. All in all, they were off to a fair start.
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A week into their new schedule, they found themselves in the Potions lab. "Clockwise, Potter!" Draco yelled as Harry made to stir the potion the wrong way. "Pay attention!"
"Sod off, Malfoy. It was an honest mistake."
"Right. For a third year! You’re not that stupid. Oh, don't look at me like that. Something's distracting you. What is it?"
Harry eyed him reservedly, gaining a raised eyebrow from Draco. "I didn't get much sleep last night. Nightmare."
"Well, just make sure you pay more attention. You could have ruined all the work we did so far." Draco's voice held no contempt.
Harry stared at him. "What? Aren't you going to tell me to suck it up and just deal with things? I dunno, perhaps tell me I'm a whiner, or something like that?"
"You're not the only one who has nightmares," was all Draco said in reply.
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Two days later, it was Harry's turn to get frustrated. "Malfoy! Malfoy, what the hell is wrong with you today?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. You are better than this. Your spell work is sloppy today, like you just don't care."
"Well, perhaps I don't."
"I don't believe that for a moment. I know you better than that. This should be easy for you by now, so what gives?"
Draco hesitated, but decided there was no point not saying anything. "Remember I told you that you're not the only one who has nightmares?"
"Mhm."
"Well, last night they were bad."
"Voldemort?"
"Who else?" They shared a knowing look between them, and in that instance Draco felt that something between them had changed. Nothing earth-shattering, but still. Perhaps the walls they had put up against each other had developed some small cracks.
"So, shall we call it a night?" Harry offered.
"What was it like?" Draco asked, ignoring Harry's question.
"What was what like?" he asked warily.
"Facing Voldemort. I mean, he scared the shit out of me, but he wasn't trying to kill me. Well, not until the end, anyway."
"Dunno. I don't like talking about it."
"Come on now. You can't get out of it that easily. What does the great Harry Potter have to say about facing off against the most powerful wizard that ever lived?"
"Forget it," Harry said, as he began stuffing his things into his bag.
"No really, Harry. I want to know. Not the stupid Prophet's version of events, or your countless fans' tales of your glory. Just the truth."
Harry hesitated only a moment before putting his bag down and taking a seat on one of the desks, dragging a hand through his messy mop of hair. "The truth? I suppose I'd have to say it was scary, but more just the thought of it." He looked at Draco, seemingly at a loss for words. "I suppose the idea of fighting him was scarier than actually doing it."
Draco shot him a patented you're full of shite look, and he continued. "No, really. Once I'm in a situation, I just stop thinking about what I'm going to do, and I act on impulse."
"And afterwards?"
"That's when everything hits me, and I start thinking about what might have happened, had I stopped to think about what I was throwing myself into."
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Another week passed, and their lessons were going well. On one Hogsmeade Saturday, they had decided to stay back to go over a particularly difficult Transfiguration spell they had learned that week.
The weather was nice, so they had been working outside. On their way back to the castle, they stopped to watch the Hufflepuff Quidditch team practice. At the sight of the school's top two seekers, the newest player, currently being trained as replacement beater, promptly toppled off his broom.
"Maybe we should leave them to their practice," Harry said, laughing. "I think we're making the poor boy nervous."
Draco noticed for the first time just how attractive Harry was when he laughed. Probably because he didn't usually laugh around him. Draco thought that he wouldn't mind seeing Harry laugh more often. Whoa! Where did that come from?
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As it turned out, both of them had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that their forced partnership had helped them. Their marks had improved, and their constant bickering and one-upmanship had all but disappeared. In fact, it felt like they were actually becoming friends. Of course, that was too good to be true.
About three weeks in, Blaise was visibly pissed. "It was supposed to be a bad thing," he whined to Millicent at lunch. "Now it seems that he really is Potter's best mate." He looked over at Ron who looked equally irritated at the sight of Harry and Draco entering the Great Hall together, both smiling and chatting away. He smiled as an idea formed in his mind.
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"It was Malfoy who arranged it. He lost a bet with Blaise, and had to insinuate himself into your life for a month as his payment."
Harry was dumbfounded. He had been so angry at first when Snape had started the ball rolling, and had thought Draco felt the same way. And then, over the past three weeks, they had become -- what were they? Friends, he had thought. But apparently that was a lie. Typical. Bloody Malfoy.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Ron asked.
"Do?"
"Yeah, you know, do! Are you going to tell McGonagall?"
"What for?"
"You ... you can't be serious. You have to do something."
"No I don't. I will finish the time. There's just over a week left, and both of our marks have improved so much that the professors can't make us keep this up. It has worked, they'll see that, and it will be over. End of story."
"But you have to get Malfoy back for this!"
"To what end, Ron? I have actually enjoyed not fighting with him all the time. Keeping that up is draining, and I'm not willing to go back to that. I think, no matter what started this whole thing, that I would rather just move on."
Ron stared at him, gobsmacked. Of course, Harry didn't tell Ron what he really had in mind.
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"So, Malfoy, made any good wagers lately?"
Draco's gut constricted at the remark. This couldn't be good if Harry was calling him Malfoy again, and was glaring at him. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean. A little wager with Blaise, a little arrangement with Snape. He doesn't know, of course, the real reason behind your request, does he?"
"You wouldn't!"
"Oh, wouldn't I?" Harry walked up to Draco, invading his personal space. It felt reminiscent of old times. Old times that Draco didn't much want to revisit. "Did I ever tell you that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin?"
"What?" Draco was thrown by that. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, Draco." Harry put great emphasis on his name. "I suppose it means that I can be rather resourceful when I want something." Draco felt his stomach do a flip. "And right now, I think I want something from you." He took a step closer, their bodies almost touching, staring directly into Draco's eyes with an anger that had been absent for weeks.
"I'm sorry," Draco said lamely in response, turning away to put some distance between them. Their close proximity was threatening to result in a reaction from him that he didn't want Harry to see. Especially not now.
"Right."
"No, really, Harry. I am. Well, I wasn't at first, but I am now."
"I don't believe that for a minute. But never mind. An apology isn't what I'm after."
"So what exactly do you want from me?" he asked, trying to mask the fear he was feeling. This could end up being worse than Blaise's alternate punishment.
"Lessons."
"What?" he asked, sure he hadn't heard correctly. "We're already doing that."
"Not the sort of lessons I'm talking about." Draco narrowed his eyes in response. "Oh, relax. I don't have anything sordid in mind." Harry closed the gap between them again, this time practically pinning Draco against a desk in the process. He leaned in and whispered in Draco's ear, "You might like that too much." Then he pulled back.
Draco could feel the rush of blood reddening his face, while a pool of heat settled in his groin. Mustering up as much feigned indignation as he could, he retorted. "You wish, Potter." Thank Merlin for robes, and the ability they afforded him to hide his traitorous body's reaction.
"Well, you do look rather cute when you blush," Harry responded with a wink. "But rest assured, your virtue -- such that it is -- will remain intact. What I have in mind are Dark Arts lessons."
Draco frowned at him in confusion. "But you're tops in Defence ..."
"Oh, no, my Slytherin friend. I'm not talking about Defence. I want you to teach me some dark spells." Comprehension dawned on Draco. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Oh, no," he said with a smirk. "How could I possibly resist the idea of corrupting the great Harry Potter?"
"Don't do that." Harry glared at him.
"What's that?"
"Don't call me the great Harry Potter, or the Saviour, or the Chosen One, or any other stupid name."
"Why?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.
"I hate it. Voldemort tried to kill me, which set a course for my life that I had no choice in. It's not like I asked for the fame. Frankly, I'd just like to forget all about it."
"You're serious!" Draco exclaimed. "How can you forget about all you did?"
"Well, okay, maybe forget is too strong a word. I would just like to get on with my life. Anything I did was with help from great witches and wizards around me. I played my part, but that's all. My part just happened to be in Voldemort's face. I'm tired of people making more of it than that."
"Makes sense," said Draco, impressed despite himself. "But don't expect me to stop calling you whatever name comes to mind. You can rest assured in the knowledge that I am not fawning all over your greatness."
Harry laughed at that comment. "Fair enough."
"I'll teach you some dark spells, but we can't exactly do that in a spare classroom."
Harry nodded. "I have just the spot," and winked at Draco, flashing him a smile. A twinge of warmth suddenly stirred inside Draco. Oh, God. I'm in trouble.
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Over the next week, they had spent even more time together than before, much to their friends' dismay. On mutual agreement, however, they hadn't told anyone why, nor that they were spending a good deal of that time in the Room of Requirement. Of course, this risked their friends coming to their own conclusions, but neither one cared.
After his initial anger had worn off, Harry seemed to relax, and they became comfortable around each other again. Draco sensed a bit of tension, and knew that Harry was holding back a bit, but he had apologized, and there was nothing else to be said.
"You never did tell me why you wanted to learn dark spells. Voldemort is gone, after all. What do you need these for?"
"Curiosity, I suppose. I wondered what the pull of the Dark Arts was like."
"And?"
"And I think I kind of like it. I mean there's this feeling of raw power that isn't there with other magic. It's just ... I don't know."
"Exactly." Draco smiled at Harry. "Oh my God! I really have corrupted the great Harry Potter."
"I suppose you have," Harry agreed. When Draco looked at him, he saw a hint of something ... different ... in Harry's eyes. "But no worries. I have no plans to take over the world. I just wanted to know what the big mystery was all about, and now I know. Thanks for that."
"It's not like I had much of a choice," Draco replied.
"Sure you did. You don't seriously think I would have gone to Snape or McGonagall, do you?"
"Why you ..."
"I told you I was resourceful." Harry smiled and winked at him. As he felt the familiar blush rise over his face, and warmth spread elsewhere in his body, Draco thought to himself that Harry really needed to stop doing that.
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The last night of the month-long 'punishment', they both sat recovering from the latest spell-casting, seated side-by-side on cushions on the floor of the Room of Requirement, backs against the wall.
"Why did you agree to take the bet to begin with?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. It was the first time they had talked about it since Harry had confronted him.
"I don't know, really. I guess maybe it was as good an excuse as any to stop the never-ending battle between us."
"You mean you lost on purpose?" Harry looked at him incredulously.
"Hell, no! I am a Slytherin after all. I was just hedging my bet. I figured it wasn't such a horrible consequence if I lost, but everyone else figured it would be the worst punishment possible for me. So either way, I won."
"Did you just say you won?"
"I suppose I did."
"Being stuck with me for a month was a win?"
"Four weeks. And don't make too much out of it, Potter. It's almost over, and we can go back to our lives, the way things used to be, and we can continue hating each other."
"So you still hate me, then?"
"No, I suppose I don't," Draco admitted, shaking his head. "You know I don't."
"But you want to go back to the way things were?"
"Don't you?"
"No, I don't really think I do," Harry said, as he turned his head to face Draco. "In fact," he lifted himself up, and swung one leg over Draco, straddling the other boy, who was looking up at him wide-eyed. "I think I'd rather be doing something else entirely." He placed his hands against the wall, either side of Draco's head, and leaned in, brushing his lips against the blonde's, in the merest hint of a kiss.
Draco looked up into Harry's eyes, which were now half shut, and wrapped his arms around his neck, dragging his fingers through his hair. Harry smiled and leaned back in, pressing kisses to his temple, his cheek, his chin, and his mouth. As Harry licked a trail along his lower lip, Draco let out a soft moan, lips parting to grant Harry entry.
As his tongue sought out and met Harry's, Draco’s mind formed only one thought: About damn time.
"So, Draco, shall we go back to hating each other now?"
"No, Harry,” he replied, pulling him in for another kiss. “That's not an option."