Disclaimer: Not mine!! Well…okay…somewhat mine but the characters aren't.

Warning: Slash…nothing in full gory description though…sorry. Haha. [Oops. Should clarify SLASH - boy on boy action.]

The Day When Harry Potter Woke Up and Decided He Was In Love

The Boy-Who-Lived woke up once bright Tuesday morning, looked into the mirror, and decided he was in love. Unfortunately, being in love did not help him untame his unruly mass of brown curls, nor did it get rid of Harry's bad case of morning breath, which was, incidentally, making his mirror squirm. Furthermore, harry noted, love, did nothing to help vanquish the five o'clock shadow that was currently begging for a razor.

A shower, shave, and a mean toothbrushing later, Harry decided that love wasn't all useless. He rather liked the way his cheeks glowed with a hint of rosiness, and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle and shout I'm in love! Most of all, Harry decided, he was starting to like the goofy grin on his face, though it was a little discerning to him that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the corners of his mouth to lie flat, or horror upon horrors– turn upside down. With a sigh – one filled with happiness and love that is – Harry gave up, and went to join his friends for breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Harry was dragging a tired and haggled looking Ron down into the crowded Gryffindor common room. Hermoine was just finishing up some extra credit arithmancy homework that she decided to do for fun on this fine Tuesday morning, when she caught sight of her two best friends across the room.

The girl genius squinted through a throng of hungry Gryffindors, and decided there was something definitely odd about Harry today. There was an indefinable sparkle in his eyes and his teeth have definitely been given an extra shining. It almost looks like he stole some of Ron's Crest Whitestripes, Hermoine mused, and then it struck her like a piano falling from a twenty story balcony: Harry was in love!

For once in her life, Hermoine didn't stop to think, and blurted her observance out to the crowded common room. Tired, grumpy Gryffindors soon turned into nosy, curious Gryffindors and Harry, not for the first time in his life, wished for a spell, or even a potion, to banish the burning sensation in his cheeks. The redder his face became, the more interested his house mates got, until everyone gradually forgot about breakfast in the wake of Harry tormenting.

But alas, sugar-free Gryffindors were not good for school morality, as sensible Hermoine reminded the nosy common room. One by one, the Gryffindors filed out, and each resolved to solve the mystery of Harry's new love by nightfall, at the very latest. And so, it was unanimously decided this fine Tuesday would forever go down in history as the first annual (or was that second?) Gang-up-on-Harry day.

Ron blinked, having fallen asleep on his feet, and asked what the commotion was about. This earned him an affectionate slap upside the head from Hermoine, and some more adorable blushing on the part of our boy hero, Harry Potter. Ron shook his head, confused, but to his credit – did notice something different about his best friend. His tired mind and grumbling stomach told him to drop it, and this information was thus filed away at a back corner of Ron's dusty brain.

At the breakfast table, alliances formed for the newly declared holiday, Gang-up-on-Harry day. Parvarti and Lavender decided to join up with Dean, whom Seamus had ditched in favor of some solo investigating. Secretly, Seamus was hoping the object of Harry's affection was himself, and therefore though it much more efficient to work by his lonesome.

The corner where the trio habituated was subjected to much gawking and conspiratorial whispering during breakfast. Soon, all the other houses caught on to the whispers, and Gang-up-on-Harry day was no long exclusively a holiday of the Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws of course hoped the object of Harry's affection was their resident Queen, Cho, whereas the Hufflepuffs all rushed over to fix Justin Finch-Fletchley's hair, tie, and smooth the creases in his robes.

The Slytherins regarded this whole incident as more propaganda to increase the popularity of Harry Potter, thus most yawned and glared at the boy wonder crankily. Pansy Parkinson discreetly pulled out a mirror and smoothed her hair, thinking that if she wasn't going to get Draco, she could settle for one Harry Potter. The innocent is often so enticing to whimpering pug-like Slytherin girls. Or maybe just girl.

Draco Malfoy glanced up, uninterested, from the Daily Prophet. He thought himself too elegant for the plebian gossip of the Hogwarts student body, but all the same – Draco Malfoy couldn't cure the twinge of curiosity that the subject of Potter brought to mind. Every vile villain has to have an arch nemesis, and Draco was currently studying the art of being a malicious villain. Potter was his decided enemy, and one should always keep tabs on their enemy, right?

Draco then decided that this course of action was wise, and conferred with his two bodyguards on ways of forcing the information out of Potter. Several grunts and nods later, Crabbe and Goyle decided to trap Potter outside of Potions and proceed to beat Potter's brains out. If they learned, in the process, who Potter was in love with, then all the better.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was having a miserable time at breakfast. He was tired of the rumors, whispers and stares directed his way, and what made Harry even more miserable – his current love interest was seating with his back to him, oh the horror of horrors.

Harry hadn't thought of a way to communicate his love to the object of his affection. After all, they rarely spoke in civilized conversation, and Harry wasn't sure how being in love would change any of that. Harry was so occupied in thinking, that he didn't notice the small smile flitting at the corner of Hermoine's mouth as she noticed who, or more accurately, whose back, Harry was so intently concentrating on.

This could be trouble, thought Hermoine, and stole a look at Ron to see if he had noticed anything out of the ordinary. But Ron, the ever tired and sleepy sidekick on this fateful Tuesday morning, was face down in his porridge and blissfully snoring.

Charms was the first class that the trio headed to, a class shared with Ravenclaws. Several subtle and not-so-subtle techniques were employed in getting Harry to spill the beans, including a wand pointed at Harry's throat, a flask of pumpkin juice spiked with truth potion, and some careful engaging of conversation. All in all, the Ravenclaws were not very successful, and several sulked about their crumbling reputation as the intelligence of Hogwarts.

Herbology was next for the sixth year Gryffindors, a class flooded with gossip-seeking Hufflepuffs. Harry noticed that the crowd often forced Justin Finch Fletchley to bump into him, somewhat regularly, at an interval of every five minutes to be exact. Besides this, the Hufflepuffs also employed a system of twenty questions. This means each Hufflepuff asked Harry the same question, twenty times.

At the end of class, Harry was so sick of hearing that questions to the extent of throwing up all over Justin's robes. The Hufflepuffs were of mixed reactions. Some were mad at Harry for ruining the immaculate robes that they spent so long at breakfast de-ceasing, and others took Harry's upchucking as a sign of his undying love.

After a very long morning for the Boy-Who-Was-In-Love, Harry was immensely glad at the break in lessons. Unfortunately, lunch signified an open gawking session in the Great Hall. For once, thinking ahead of time, Harry told his friends to go on without him, and instead opted for private dining courtesy of the house elves.

It wasn't an entirely bad decision. The food was deliciously, the whispers and stares ceased as the house elves had work to do in addition to gossiping about Harry Potter. But this didn't stop Dobby from inquiring, several times, about Harry's love life. Plus, numerous shy-looking female house elves kept on drooling on Harry when they thought he wasn't paying attention, and one even attempted to make off with his sock.

Harry was initially glad that Divination was a class with only Gryffindors. But his elatement soon turned into terror when he realized that the Gryffindors were the most bold and curious of all houses. Without Hermoine there to defend poor Harry, he was soon being attacked from all directions, in all manners. Parvarti, Lavender and Dean employed a method of interrogation, criminal style. Between the rapid firing of words and the brutal comments to sit down and stay where you are, Harry barely managed to escape unscathed, only to be accosted by Seamus.

The horny Irishman trapped Harry with his body and proceeded to seduce the answer out of the bewildered boy. It was only when Ron intervened that Seamus reluctantly released Harry, and only on basis that all the Irishman could get out of the poor boy was umm…and huh?

Neville proceeded to tell his entire life story to Harry, and the compassionate Gryffindor came closer to telling Neville of his secret then anyone else, in the entire day. Sadly, Neville only wanted someone to share his sob story with; he hadn't even heard about Harry's predicament, being too busy drowning in his own misery.

Even Trelawney seemed mildly curious in Harry's love life. It was predicted that if Harry didn't immediately tell a divination professor the answer to the question which was on everyone's mind, he would die of a horrible death - likely being trampled by flobberworms. Harry became very frightened and began edging towards the trapdoor. As he left, Harry heard unison squeals of frustration from everyone left in the room. Ron looked confused for a moment, and immediately chalked it up to the lack of nutrition and sleep that everyone seemed to be suffering from, as evident by their strange behavior of today.

Potions was the last lesson of the day, a double with the Slytherins. Harry's heart was beating double-time, and butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach. They must be magical butterflies to avoid being digested by my stomach acids, Harry thought. Nevertheless, he trudged towards the door with Hermoine and Ron in tow, and sat down at a bench in the back of the room.

Despite some not-so-subtle winks from Pansy, the Slytherins didn't attempt to wreak havoc upon Harry's barely clinging sanity. This may be due to the nastier than normal glares Snape was circulating throughout the room. Harry, for his part, felt closer to spilling his secret than ever, despite the fact that his peers have for once, been intimidated into not pestering him.

Curiously, a pink salamander managed to make its way up Crabbe's nose during the course of their potion making, and Goyle had to levitate his fainted partner to the hospital wing. Apparently, Crabbe was of a delicate disposition where all things pink were concerned. This left a frustrated Draco alone in his evil plan of intimidating information out of Potter. Without his sidekicks astounding brutality, Draco was at a loss for strategies.

When the bell rang signaling the end of class, the majority of student, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, ran out of the dungeons classroom with their tails between their legs. Snape had a sinister smile on his face, and looked on the urge of letting out an evil muwhahahaha. Draco and Harry were two of the stragglers remaining in the room, along with Ron and Hermoine. Harry waved at them to go ahead, having decided on something during the course of scaling the pink salamander.

Hermoine grabbed Ron and hauled him out of the room. Ron once again looked confused and blamed Hermoine's odd behavior on malnutrition and sleep deprivation. Because Merlin knows, Ron himself was about to fall asleep on his feet. He silently cursed Fred and George, the causes of his nightmares and lack of sleep ever since the night he walked in and saw them doing something in the bathroom.

Meanwhile, back in the Potions classroom: In the absence of Snape, Draco had cornered Harry with his wand, demanding to know who the boy wonder was in love with. Harry gulped, the butterflies tickling his throat, and ummed and ahhed his way through stuttered answers. Draco, being frustrated, finally put down his wand and sighed. This was never going to work. Potter couldn't even form coherent sentences! Maybe it was time to choose another arch nemesis…

Harry, seeing Draco deep in thought, came up with a new plan on the spot. He spun around, pushed the blond Slytherin against the wall, and proceeded to smooch the daylights out of those luscious pink lips. Harry's mind at once exploded with a Greek chorus chiming Hallelujah, and he decided, there and then, to later write a poem about how soft those lips are, and how they tasted of strawberries and butterbeer…

Draco's eyes snapped open, and his brain went into overtime. The scene was quite comical, for Harry Potter had his supposed arch-nemesis pined against the wall, and was kissing him with an almost religious fervor, while the said arch-nemesis was stationary against said wall, eyes quite wide and looking about ready to pop out of his head.

Reality finally prevailed and Draco pushed Harry off of him with an impressive battle cry. Harry looked hurt if somewhat dazed, and Draco blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "What, in Merlin's name, was that?!" Harry snapped out of his blatant ogling, and timidly answered, "I thought you wanted to know who I was in love with." A confused oh sound escaped from Draco's mouth, followed by a more definitive ohhh.

"So you…me?" It was now Draco's turn to stutter, and as Harry nodded, the blond Slytherin decided that he was rather prone to the burning sensation left in the wake of Potter's kiss. Upon reaching that decision, Draco took matters into his own hands.

It was three hours later; lying beside a naked and sated Gryffindor, that Draco realized it was now necessary to change his choice of arch-nemesis. As he lifted his gaze to the door, it was met by a shocked and dazed looking Ron Weasley, one who was also on the verge of being sick. Draco smiled. It was a sinister, evil smile, a smile of absolutely no good.

Ron fainted, and the last thing he muttered was something or other about not going to sleep for the rest of his life.

*Suggestions, comments, questions…? Please??