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A/N: Some people reviewed my last chapter. Thank you everyone!

Chapter 8: Draco's POV

Draco was a helpless flirt. Whenever he got the opportunity to approach a hot blonde, or a brunette, for that matter, he would seize it. That's why when a Draco saw a certain raven haired Seeker approaching just outside Potions the next day, Draco couldn't help but check Harry out as he walked. He could find no fault in the boy, and everything about him was utterly arousing, like the sexy way that Harry's robes clung tightly on his tone chest, or the way his sidelong bangs flapped slightly as he walked.

Draco wanted to lunge at the boy, and do every little naughty thing imaginable to him, right there in the corridor. However, he couldn't. Despite the fact that the Peligrose Potion had obviously worked on him, Draco had no way of knowing that it had worked on Harry as well, for the boy had not given any indication of interest. He had to know if his feelings for Harry Potter were mutual before he made a fool of himself by confessing his undying love, not to mention destroying his reputation in the process.

Draco fixed himself into as neutral an expression as humanly possible. As Harry approached, Draco tried to discreetly check him out- he just couldn't resist the temptation at peering at his little eye candy. Harry stood across from him in a very determined manner. He watched Draco with an indiscernible expression. Draco, in turn, watched Harry intently, eagerly hoping for some sign of affection, but not outwardly expressing it. Harry opened his mouth to say something, something Draco hoped would be "I love you" or "I want you", he would have even been satisfied with a simple "how are you?" or even a "hello." However, all that came out of the bastard's mouth was "You know Malfoy, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were just checking me out."

Draco was shocked, and severely hurt. Was it that obvious? Could Harry tell what Draco was thinking? It became obvious that Harry definitely did not feel the same. In a pathetic attempt at self-defense, Draco muttered the most effective comeback he could think of at the time. "Oh fuck off, Potter." "Such harsh words Draco….And I thought you loved me." Harry made a sad face, obviously proud of himself. However, Draco realized something very unexpected. He had said "Draco." Never in their history together had Harry ever dared call Draco by his first name. Draco raised his eyebrow in surprise. Seeming oddly afraid, Harry angrily blurted out "What? What is it?" Draco smiled deviously. "Draco? Since when are we on a first name basis, Harry?" Draco noticed a change in Harry's expression. Draco smiled triumphantly. The slip was no mistake- it couldn't have been. Something had definitely changed in their relationship, and Harry was apparently aware of it. Draco waited eagerly for Harry to respond. However, before the dark haired boy could say anything in response, Snape stormed past them into the dungeon, and he called out "There will be no fighting this morning, gentlemen," he growled, "Take your seats and refrain from whatever juvenile argument you were having." Draco was disappointed, but he could do nothing presently. He shot Harry a telling glance, but Harry would not look at him. Sunk and sullen, Draco trudged over to his seat and sat down. The class seemed to last forever, and all through the lesson, Harry kept a straight gaze ahead of him, and for all the noise that Draco tried to make to catch his attention, Harry would not look back.

That night, Draco found himself walking the corridors in the darkness. He didn't know why exactly, or where he was going, but he couldn't stop walking. It seemed he was headed somewhere, for he walked deliberately; his feet seemed to be headed to a place his brain did not yet comprehend. After about 15 minutes of brisk walking, Draco's feet finally stopped him in front of a large painting at the end of a corridor. The painting was rather ridiculous. It was of some horribly ugly fat lady sitting in a vineyard. He watched as the big fat woman in rather fine attire slept silently in her seat. Draco wondered how much money the gown she wore must have cost. No doubt his father would know. Draco's father always knew a person's value just by looking at them.

Draco stared at the painting. It was an odd place to put a painting- right at the end of a long corridor. It couldn't have been something randomly placed, not at Hogwarts. Draco assumed that this had to be the entrance to something, perhaps one of the houses' sleeping quarters. He couldn't be sure. He took out his wand and tried to open the "door" magically, though he doubted greatly that the door would open. At the sound of a voice muttering incantations, the fat lady in the painting sleepily opened her eyes. "Ooow!" She cooed angrily, "What are you doing pointing that wand at me, and in the dead of night?" Draco was already annoyed with the painting. "Shut it up," he said in his usual Draco manner, "Now, where does this passageway lead to?" The fat lady rolled her eyes. "I can't tell you that. I'm not allowed," said she, her voice proud and dignified. "Besides, with the way you spoke to me, there's no way I'd tell you anything." Draco sighed impatiently. He raised his wand again and pointed it straight at the lady. "Now, you'll talk."

Sorry for the cliffhanger….i haven't updated this in months and I want some time to plan the story out. but still give me reviews….next installment hopefully will be up soon….vicky.