Hi all! So, this is just another silly little piece I put together! It's official, I'm incapable of writing anything that isn't super fluffy, sorry (not sorry). Seriously, it's so sweet you'll probably get a cavity. Also, let me know if you catch my very minor Mean Girls reference of sorts LOL I love that movie. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please, if you can, send some lovely reviews my way!

WARNINGS: The rating is mostly to be on the safe side. A bit of swearing, that's the major thing. So much fluff it's ridiculous… but what can I say I love it.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter in any sense, it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.


With A Little Help From Draco Malfoy


Harry couldn't remember ever being in a situation stranger than this (and he'd been in some interesting predicaments before). He couldn't be sure, but it seemed as if Draco Malfoy had taken it upon himself make sure Harry's greatest ambition would come to fruition.

Harry watched Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He stood next to Harry, broom in hand, staring straight ahead. His normally immaculate hair was somewhat messy (by Malfoy standards at least) as a light breeze was blowing the blonde locks around. He looked regal and elegant as always. He seemed almost peaceful, more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him before. It was an odd sight for Harry, but if he was honest with himself it wasn't an unpleasant one.

"You know, Potter, the first step in preparing to become a professional Quidditch player is mounting your broom."

Malfoy turned his head in Harry's direction as he spoke. Finally, something Harry was familiar with. The almost rude and sardonic tone in addition to the smirk gracing Malfoy's face were far more in his comfort zone when it came to the Slytherin. Although, there was no malice in his voice now and Harry could have sworn he saw laughter in those deep grey eyes.

Those observations confirmed what Harry had been speculating before. It was clear now. Malfoy was trying to help him. That realization made him squirm.

How had he gotten himself into this situation?

By opening up to Draco Malfoy, that's how.


Two Hours Earlier

Harry grumbled bitterly to himself as he made his way down to the dungeons. He was convinced Slughorn was doing this intentionally as punishment for no longer being his star Potions student. Ever since having to get rid of Snape's old textbook, he'd been nothing short of dreadful in Potions. Literally. He never scored higher than a D on any assignment.

Sure, Harry thought, maybe he did need a little tutoring to possibly make some sort of improvement. But not from this tutor. This was surely going to be more detrimental to Harry than beneficial.

Harry entered the classroom and saw his tutor already standing there with his back to the door. He figured he should say something to announce his arrival. He barely got a word out, however, when the tutor turned around and held up a hand, making Harry immediately shut his mouth.

"Potter." Malfoy greeted him stiffly. He didn't wait for Harry to respond with his own greeting. Instead he went straight into an obviously rehearsed speech. "Whatever you've got to say, I don't want to hear it. This is not exactly ideal for me either. I can think of a thousand things I'd rather be doing with my Saturdays than being forced to spend them here with you. Unfortunately, one of the conditions of me being able to return to Hogwarts for this so called Eighth Year is that I would have to be a tutor in my best subject. I tutor several students in Potions. You are not special. You are not being punished. You simply need the help and it is my job to give you the assistance. That is all."

Harry couldn't help himself. "Yes, sir."

Malfoy shot him an exasperated look. "Funny. Now let's get started."

Harry had to admit, he was impressed by how good a tutor Malfoy was. Within an hour, he had managed to get through every step of the N.E.W.T. level potion Malfoy had assigned him with minimal problems. Malfoy's explanations and instructions were clear and concise. He wouldn't hover, but he watched Harry's every move, occasionally making suggestions or preventing him from making a mistake.

"Not bad, Potter. The last step is to let it sit for twenty minutes. In that time, the color should gradually turn from the dark red it is now to a light pink. If we see that color, then you've succeeded. To be honest, though, I'm very confident you did everything correctly."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Was that a disguised compliment, Malfoy?"

Reluctantly, or so it seemed, a small smile tugged at Malfoy's lips. "Perhaps. Or maybe it's simply me congratulating myself on turning you from a pathetic potion maker to something significantly better in only an hour."

Harry was surprised to find Malfoy's words didn't rile him up in any way. He snorted and replied, "I'll just take it as a compliment, thanks. Your ego is big enough as it is."

At first, Malfoy glared. Then he rolled his eyes.

They sat next to each other in a somewhat awkward silence for a while. It was weird not being at each other's throats. Harry thought back to the last time he'd talked to Malfoy. It had been after the war, at his trial. Harry had defended him, helping him to get off with a mere two years' probation and no time in Azkaban. Before leaving, he'd gone up to Malfoy and given him back his wand. They had been civil to each other that day, if nothing else. Following that interaction… nothing. Since returning to school, they hadn't said a word to each other. There had been no fights or arguments yet. They had essentially been ignoring one another for the past two months.

Harry glanced at Malfoy and couldn't help feeling something had changed with him. Hell, he knew a lot had changed with himself, so he supposed it was more than possible.

"So, Potter."

Harry was jolted out of his thoughts. "Yeah?"

Malfoy studied Harry as he spoke. "I must admit, I'm curious as to why you came back to Hogwarts this year. If I've heard correctly, you're planning on becoming an Auror. I've also heard that the Ministry would have immediately accepted our Savior into the Auror training program, even without passing the necessary N.E.W.T.s. So why bother coming back?"

That was probably the very last thing Harry would have expected Malfoy to say to him.

"What's it to you Malfoy?" he asked, sounding only slightly wary and not one bit angry or annoyed by the question.

Malfoy shrugged. "I'm merely attempting to make polite conversation. It's good manners. Plus, having any sort of discussion would be much better than sitting in silence for another ten minutes, don't you think?"

Malfoy felt it would be better to idly chit chat with Harry than have time to himself? The more Harry thought about it, though, the more he agreed with that idea. Sitting in silence was getting boring.

Thinking back to the original question, Harry raked a hand violently through his already unruly hair, unable to suppress a groan of frustration. For whatever reason he found himself replying and answering Malfoy's inquiry about his career path honestly.

"First of all, don't call me 'The Savior' or any of those other horrible nicknames I've been given." Malfoy's eyebrow rose in apparent surprise. Harry ignored it and continued on to his next, more important point. "Second, even if I still wanted to be an Auror, I'd want to earn my way in, not just be handed the job because of my name."

Malfoy seemed riveted by Harry's words. He kept his eyes on Harry, letting him know he was paying close attention. It made Harry awfully nervous. It took a moment for Malfoy to respond.

"'Even if I still wanted to be an Auror…'" Malfoy quoted. "So, you don't want to be an Auror anymore?"

Harry stiffened up in his seat. He murmured, more to himself than Malfoy, "Shit. Did I really just say that?"

Confusion clearly etched in Malfoy's face, he asked, "Not something you talk about often?"



"I've never admitted that to anyone."

Harry looked down at his feet, not quite sure what was going on with him. He couldn't believe that had slipped out. He had never even voiced that thought to Ron or Hermione. Yet here he was, starting to tell Malfoy, of all people, all that had changed in his mind since the end of the war.

Malfoy sat up a little straighter in his chair and cleared his throat. "I don't see why that's something to be worried about discussing."

"Everyone expects me to be an Auror. My friends, the Ministry. Hell, even you expected it! But I just feel like… I don't know… I feel like I've been fighting dark wizards pretty much since the day I found out about the wizarding world. Do I really want to choose to do that same thing every day for the rest of my life? No, I don't. But then I feel selfish for not wanting to continue helping people. What will people say when their 'Savior' doesn't want to do what they think he should do? I feel like I owe it to the world. Like I need to keep ridding the world of evil, even with Voldemort gone. Like that's my only true purpose in life. Still, I really don't want to do it anymore."

It was like word vomit. Once Harry started talking, he couldn't stop. Although, he had to admit it felt liberating to say out loud all the thoughts he'd been hiding away in his mind for months. Even if he was saying it to Draco bloody Malfoy, it felt good to get it off his chest. He let out a huge sigh of relief, and had to resist the urge to laugh out loud.

Malfoy turned in his chair to better face Harry. Only then did Harry notice how close they were to each other. Malfoy's knees were nearly touching he left thigh. He couldn't figure out why, but felt a chill shoot down his spine. He forced himself to look up, straight into Malfoy's striking grey eyes. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to, he was captured in Malfoy's gaze.

"I understand why you don't want to be an Auror anymore, and I'm sure everyone else would understand too. But if they don't, who cares? You don't owe the world shit, if anything the world owes you. Don't worry about being selfish, hell I think you have every right to be selfish after all you've done. Do what you want to do, Potter. Fuck what people expect from you."

Malfoy's deep voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. Harry felt that chill shoot down his spine again, but this time he knew it was caused by Malfoy's intense stare. He felt like those piercing eyes were trying to see past the front he had put up, the front he would often hide behind these days. It was like Malfoy was trying to dig deeper into his thoughts. It was like he was really trying to get to know him.

They had somehow gotten even closer than before. Harry hadn't noticed doing so, but as Malfoy had been talking he'd leaned in to better hear that smooth voice saying the words he so desperately needed to hear. Once aware of their proximity, Harry jerked back in his seat. He faced forward and sat up straight in his chair, hoping his face wasn't as flushed as it felt.

What had that been about?

When Harry said nothing, Malfoy spoke again. He sounded casual, almost disinterested. Still, Harry could tell he was very interested in this topic. Why was he so interested? Harry wished he knew.

Malfoy asked, "Well, even if you don't want to be an Auror, do you have an idea of what you'd like to do instead? Is that why you came back to Hogwarts, to prepare for something else?"

Figuring he was fucked enough as it was, Harry decided to go with a truthful answer. "I know what I'd like to do, an ambition of sorts. It's not likely to happen though." He laughed harshly for a second. "I wouldn't have come back if I'd known us Eighth Years wouldn't be allowed to play Quidditch for the House teams. Quidditch was the only reason I came back."

He chanced a glance in Malfoy's direction. Malfoy was still facing him, hands folded and rested in his lap. He had one eyebrow arched and a contemplative look on his face.

"I'm going to assume that you're implying you would like to play professional Quidditch for a living?"

Harry couldn't help it. He looked up directly into those steely-grey eyes again. He opened his mouth to reply with a simple 'yes'. Instead, the word vomit came back, and he became a babbling mess.

"It's really the only thing that ever came naturally to me in the wizarding world. Every time I get on a broom, it's like the first time again. The feeling I get, it's indescribable. I'm happy when I'm flying. But it's been well over a year since I've played Quidditch or even been on a broom, so I probably suck now because of that. I came back here hoping I'd get some practice before I try to play professionally. But I can't fucking play on the Gryffindor team. So, what was the point? I'm screwed either way now. I might as well just go join the Aurors at this point…"

"Whoa, Potter, slow down." Malfoy said calmly and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, gently shaking him out of his rant. Harry stopped talking, but he was panting lightly, as if he'd just sprinted a few laps around the room. He looked down at his shaky hands, thoroughly embarrassed by his outburst. "First thing's first, it's been twenty minutes," Malfoy said once Harry was breathing normally again. "We should look at your potion."

Harry couldn't believe he'd just spent all that time confiding in Draco Malfoy. He shook his head and took a deep breath before standing up to follow Malfoy over to his cauldron. He hesitated for just a second before taking the last step forward. He looked down and was pleasantly surprised to see the formerly dark red potion had turned light pink in color, as Malfoy had said it should. He let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding in.

"Congratulations, Potter." Malfoy smirked. "You're not completely hopeless after all."

Instead of coming up with some smart-mouthed, nasty retort like he might have in the past, Harry blurted out sincerely, "Yeah, well you're a great teacher. Way better than Slughorn."

If he hadn't know better, Harry would have said that, for just a moment, Malfoy's normally pale cheeks were tinted a barely noticeable pink at the compliment. But he had to be imagining it.

Malfoy muttered a quick, "Thank you."

They cleaned up and packed everything away in silence. Harry felt extraordinarily uncomfortable after everything he had confessed to Malfoy. Especially since his last exploding declaration went ignored by the Slytherin. He thought Malfoy might mention it once they were done with the potion, but he hadn't. He wondered why that upset him.

When they were done, Harry grabbed his bag and turned to say some sort of goodbye to Malfoy, who was facing the other way.

"Well, I guess I'll be going now. I'll see you next week, yeah? For the next tutoring session? Right? Same day, same time, same place?"

Harry could hear himself rambling like an idiot, so he forced himself to shut up and wait for Malfoy to confirm their next meeting before leaving. Malfoy had turned around at some point while Harry had been talking. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Harry with an amused expression on his face.

"Do you have any plans right now?"

Harry gawked at Malfoy. Surely, he'd heard him wrong. It sounded like Malfoy was going to ask him to do something like… hang out? No. Definitely not. Harry was sure he'd misunderstood him.

Malfoy didn't seem to need an answer.

"Actually, this is more important than anything else you could possibly have to do right now, so I don't care if you have plans. If you do, cancel them. Luckily, we still have plenty of time before dinner. So, Potter, go fetch your broom and meet me at the Quidditch pitch in fifteen minutes. I'm assuming you have your own broom here? Since you mentioned you were hoping to play this year?"

Harry continued to gape, eyes wide, mouth hanging open a little. He was sure he looked ridiculous, but he was having an extremely hard time comprehending Malfoy's words.

Eventually, he managed to say, "I do have my own broom, but—"

"Wonderful. Quidditch pitch. Fifteen minutes."

With that, Malfoy strolled past Harry and left the room.

After Malfoy exited the potions classroom, Harry stayed frozen in his spot. Was Malfoy serious? Should he really do as Malfoy had told him to? As he came out of his pondering, he collected himself and made up his mind.

He began sprinting to Gryffindor Tower. When he arrived there, he charged up the stairs to his dorm, grabbed his broom, and ran back downstairs. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him in the common room. As much as he loved them, he brushed them off. He successfully and efficiently dodged their questions before he proceeded to dash back downstairs and head outside. He briefly wondered if this was all some trick or joke of Malfoy's. He knew it wasn't upon arriving at the Quidditch pitch. He saw his former rival standing at the very center of the field, his own broom held at his side.



So, there he stood. Next to Draco Malfoy in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

Despite Malfoy's teasingly snarky suggestion that he mount his broom, Harry had not moved. Once he found his voice he asked, "So, what exactly are we doing?"

Malfoy drawled, "I thought that was obvious, Potter." When Harry could only blink at him in confusion, Malfoy continued. "We're going to give you some practice by playing a Seeker's game. I will release this snitch, and you will try to catch it before I do. Or has it been so long that you've forgotten what role the Seeker plays in a game of Quidditch?"

Harry hadn't known that Malfoy had a snitch until he held it up to show him. He was almost tempted to question where Malfoy had gotten it from, but decided that wasn't important. What was important was that he was going to fly again. He was going to have a chance to chase the golden snitch and, in some ways, play Quidditch again (obviously, it wouldn't be exactly the same without the Chasers, Beaters and Keepers). He hadn't felt this excited in a very long time.

Harry nodded. "Release the snitch. We'll give it a two-minute head start."

Malfoy let go of the snitch in his hand. For a split second, Harry saw the golden ball, rapidly beating its wings, hovering in front of them. Then it sped off, disappearing from sight.

Only then did Harry swing a leg over his broom, mounting it in preparation to take off. He watched Malfoy do the same next to him.

"You know, Malfoy, this will be great practice. If I'm being honest, you're the only real competition I've ever had."

Malfoy didn't smirk. This time, he grinned. "I know."

Harry let out a short bark of laughter at Malfoy's cocky answer. He couldn't wait to fight Malfoy for the snitch again. He hadn't thought about it until that moment, but he'd really missed not only flying but the game of Quidditch itself and the competitiveness it involved.

"Ten seconds, Potter."

Harry hunched over, gripping his broom tightly with both hands.

Malfoy counted down, "Three… Two… One… Go!"

Harry kicked off hard. The wind whipped through his hair as he rose straight into the air. He felt happy, he felt free, he felt alive. He knew for a fact that flying was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't have kept his almost manic grin off his face if he tried. The sun was starting to set and Harry was sure he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

He did a lap around the pitch before heading to one end, hovering near the goal posts. He tried searching for the snitch, but he found it hard to concentrate. Malfoy was at the opposite end of the pitch by the other set of goal posts. Harry couldn't stop himself from watching him.

The sky was a pinkish-orange color, which reflected off Malfoy's platinum blonde hair and porcelain skin in such a way that he appeared to be glowing. As far away as he was, Harry could see that the eyes that had so enraptured him back in the potions classroom were bright and shining. Malfoy was hunched over his broom in a similar manner to Harry. He was still thin like he had always been, but he had filled out in a flattering way since the end of the war. His face even looked less pointed than Harry remembered it being. He had an almost imperceptible, but undeniably present, smile on his face. He looked as happy as Harry felt.

Harry shook his head, coming out of his Malfoy filled thoughts, and tried to focus on finding the snitch.

He saw it at the exact moment Malfoy did. The golden snitch was hovering just above the ground, exactly halfway between Malfoy and himself. They went into a dive at the same time. Harry's heart was hammering in his chest. This was what he loved most about Quidditch. The exhilaration of speeding through the air, trying to be the first to the snitch. He had to beat Malfoy.

Harry willed his broom to accelerate faster, but Malfoy was just as close to the tiny, winged, golden ball as he was. As they closed in on the snitch, Harry took a hand off his broom and reached out towards it. It was moving now, skirting along very close to the ground, away from Harry and closer to Malfoy. Malfoy, too, reached out. With one final burst of energy, Harry pushed forward, knocking Malfoy's hand out of the way. And then Harry felt it. The snitch was held in his right hand, its wings flapping feebly under his clutch.

What Harry didn't see was that Malfoy hadn't successfully pulled out of his dive. As Harry was catching the snitch, Malfoy was falling off his broom onto the soft grass. Harry was just starting to pull out of his own dive when a hand grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He was dragged down to the ground with Malfoy.

They rolled across the field a few times before coming to a stop, Malfoy on his back, Harry on top of him. Malfoy was clinging onto Harry as if he would die if he let go. Harry felt warmer suddenly for reasons he couldn't identify. They remained silent and motionless for a minute before Malfoy burst out laughing.

Malfoy's laugh was contagious. Soon, Harry was laughing right along with him. He couldn't say how long they stayed like that, Malfoy lying on the ground with Harry on top of him.

After a while, they realized the position they were in. Malfoy loosened his grip on Harry, who quickly rolled off him. He flopped down on the grass next to Malfoy. He stretched his arms and legs, making himself comfortable on the ground. He didn't want to get up just yet and Malfoy wasn't moving, so he stayed put.

They didn't speak for some time as they were both catching their breath. Once he was able to, Malfoy turned on his side to face Harry, propping himself up on his elbow.

"I'd say you're Quidditch skills are still up to snuff. I mean it was very close, but still if you could get past me…"

"Oh, shut it." Harry, too, turned on his side so he could see Malfoy better. He was well aware that there was very little space between them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath before asking, "Why did you do all this?"

Malfoy went rigid, looking anywhere but at Harry, picking out a few blades of grass from the ground.

Once again, Harry found himself babbling. "Not-not that I mind. I mean it's not a bad thing, I enjoyed it. And honestly it's nice being able to talk about this stuff, even though, you know, you and I aren't close… or even friends… no I get it, I'm sorry, I—"

"Potter, relax. I wouldn't have done this if I still hated you." He paused. "Honestly? I feel like I owe you, and this is literally the very least I could do." Malfoy still wouldn't look at Harry as he spoke.

Harry tilted his head to the side, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "You owe me?"

"Oh, don't play dumb." He sounded genuinely irritated now. "You saved my life. Twice. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I'd either have burned to death in that bloody fire, or I'd be rotting away in Azkaban right now." He swallowed visibly and audibly, looking incredibly vulnerable. "You gave me a second chance."

Harry was shocked, but also a little disappointed, by Malfoy's answer. He hadn't considered that Malfoy felt like he 'owed him' anything. He felt stupid for thinking that Malfoy had played this Seeker's game with him simply because he wanted to. He'd only done it because of some ridiculous 'life debt' or whatever it was. He wanted to make Malfoy understand that he owed Harry nothing.

"Listen. You saved my life too, that day we got caught and brought to Malfoy Manor. But even if you hadn't I would never think you owed me anything. Saving you from that fire and defending you during your trial, I was just doing what I knew was right. I appreciate you flying with me, but I'd much rather know you're doing it because you want to and not on some silly notion that you owe me something. I wouldn't have helped you if I didn't think you deserved this second chance, Draco. Because you really do deserve it."

Apparently, he had said the right thing. Harry had barely finished talking when Malfoy cautiously reached out a hand. He was hesitant at first, but then delicate fingers were tracing Harry's lightning bolt scar. Harry's eyes fell closed. He didn't move a muscle as Malfoy swept those fingers slowly across his forehead, down the side of his face, and along his jaw. He finally cupped Harry's chin in his hand, holding him in place. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Harry's lips before quickly pulling away and dropping his hand. Harry's eyes shot open at the sudden loss of contact.

Malfoy's eyes were pools of doubt and insecurity as Harry remained entirely still. Harry was speechless. He had to take a moment to adjust, as this was all so new to him. Malfoy was acting in an incredibly intimate and utterly romantic way. He couldn't believe it. This was Malfoy. Yet… this was amazing.

As he came back to his senses, his first thought was that he needed Malfoy to know that he wanted to keep going. That he wanted this. That he wanted him. Because in that instant, he was sure that was exactly what he wanted.

When Malfoy made no further move, Harry reached out his right hand. He vaguely registered that he was still grasping the golden snitch tightly in that hand. He let it go. The little golden ball flapped it's wings vigorously as if flew away. He didn't care where it went, they could always find another one at another time. What mattered was expressing to Malfoy how he felt.

His hand went to Malfoy's silky blonde hair. His fingers combed through it a few times before he placed his hand at Malfoy's nape. While looking straight into those stunning eyes, which were widening in surprise, Harry pulled Malfoy forward and kissed him.

He was flying again. He felt the rush and the thrill and the joy he associated with being in the air. Kissing Malfoy felt just as incredible as all that, if not more so.

In that moment, everything clicked into place in Harry's mind. Every thought and every feeling he'd had since entering the potions classroom a few hours before suddenly made sense. He now knew why he'd been able to look at nothing but Malfoy while trying to search for the snitch. Why he'd been mesmerized by his beautiful eyes all afternoon. Why he'd so easily confided in him. Why he'd so easily trusted him. Everything fell into place with that kiss.

Malfoy's warm, full lips moved gently over Harry's. He seemed apprehensive about doing too much too soon, as if he was afraid he might scare Harry away. Harry desperately wanted to show him that he wasn't going anywhere. However, before he could act on that thought, Malfoy unexpectedly pulled away.

Harry was about to yell at him for stopping but, before he could voice his frustration, Malfoy buried his face in Harry's neck. He nipped and sucked and kissed every bit of skin he could find there. Harry tried to control the sounds he was making as Malfoy's lips found a particularly sensitive spot and focused on it, but it was a hopeless cause.

While never ceasing his actions, Malfoy spoke. "Promise me you won't settle for being an Auror. Play Quidditch if that's what you want to do. You deserve to be happy, Harry."

Harry was almost incapable of replying, but finally managed to say breathlessly, "I'll only do it if you keep practicing with me."

"Of course."

"Then I promise."

With that, Malfoy's mouth left Harry's neck and returned to his lips. Malfoy kissed him harder this time and with more fervor than before. He forced his way into Harry's mouth with his tongue while his hand went to Harry's hair, gripping tightly to the dark disheveled mop. Harry, meanwhile, wrapped an arm around Malfoy's waist as he fell back onto the grass. He dragged Malfoy with him so that he ended up lying half on top of Harry. Not once did their lips disconnect.

Harry's head was swimming. He had never been kissed like this before. He felt like all rational thought left him the second Malfoy's lips made contact with his. All he cared about was making sure Malfoy never stopped because this was perfect.

Without warning, Malfoy pulled away and beamed at Harry.

"See you later."

He stood up abruptly, grabbed his broom, and began walking back towards the castle. After getting over the shock of the sudden loss of Malfoy, Harry jumped to his feet.

"Wait! W-where are you going?" He hated how sad and desperate he sounded.

Malfoy stopped walking. He chuckled as he slowly turned back to face Harry.

"It's dinner time and I'm starving." He sent an almost seductive smirk Harry's way. "I'll see you next week for Potions tutoring. Same time, same place. And be sure to bring your broom, Harry."

With that he turned around again and continued back to the castle.

Harry shook his head and laughed. After what had just happened, he wasn't sure he could make it until next week without seeing the Slytherin. Hell, he didn't think he'd make it until tomorrow. He grabbed his broom off the ground and headed towards the castle. He decided that, after a quick dinner, he would find Draco so they could talk… or possibly snog some more.


I don't know… I kinda like it haha. You know the drill, let me know your thoughts and opinions!