A/N: Yes, I do realize that this has been rather long in coming, but now it is here…and it is over. Tis a sad sad day for us all. grin nahh, not really. I did become rather attached to this fic, and I hope you guys did too. I hope the last part fits with the rest, and that you wonderful, wonderful people who have given me such lovely reviews are satisfied with the way it ends. You guys have been the best and all I have to say is thank you so so so much!

And just when you thought I was done, I surprise you. I have one last thing to say. My loverly and talented friend, hobo-hobisho, is writing herself a fic that includes the following pairings: Hermione/Snape, Ron/Luna, and yes, Harry/Draco. This girl is truly a talented writer and you should definitely check out her stuff. The fic I am talking about is called "Not the First to Say" and you can find it by going to my fav authors sec on my bio and clicking hobo-hobisho. Trust me, you'll be glad you did.

And now, on with the fic!!

"I don't think so, Harry," Hermione replied to Harry's feeble attempt at getting out of Potions. "Though I daresay your broken heart is real enough, I highly doubt Snape would sympathize. Now get up." She was standing over Harry's bed in the boy's dorms, having come up there after Ron had informed her of Harry's intentions to skip the first class of the day, and now she punctuated her command with a sharp kick to Harry's bed.

Harry gave Hermione a defiant glare and pulled the covers over his head. "Don't wanna," he told her, voice muffled. "S'too warm." He was confident that Hermione would find this endearing, and leave him alone to wallow in his misery. However, he had underestimated Hermione's attitude towards skipping class. With an exasperated sigh she moved to the foot of Harry's bed and pulled his covers all the way off of him.

Harry let out a yell and glared at his friend, who was grinning at him cheekily. "Not so warm anymore is it?" she asked smugly, and Harry glared harder.

"What's your problem, 'Mione? For all you knew, I could have been naked under there!" Hermione laughed.

"But you aren't, are you? Besides, it's not as though you have anything I haven't seen before." She answered, looking Harry's boxer clad form up and down and making him blush.

"That's not the point," he muttered, and Hermione grinned.

"No," she agreed, "the point is that you will be going to class today. Now get dressed. If you're not ready in ten minutes I'm coming back up here to dress you myself, and trust me, you don't want that to happen." That said, Hermione left the room, whistling happily.

Grumbling, Harry did as he was told, mostly because he knew that Hermione really would carry out her threat. It had happened before, and Harry's skin was still chafing from the result. Whoever said that leather trousers were comfortable was a sodding liar.

When Harry appeared in the common room eight minutes later, it was empty save Ron and Hermione, who gave him a disappointed glare. "Damn," she said sadly, "I was hoping you'd take longer…I really fancied putting you in spandex today." Both Harry and Ron gave a small shudder. Hermione shrugged, seemingly oblivious, but her eyes were glinting mischievously as she continued, "Oh well, there's always next time." Catching Harry's eye, her expression suddenly became serious, and she moved to stand in front of him. Placing her hands on his shoulders she told him seriously, "This really is for your own good you know. You have to face him sometime, and the longer you wait the harder it'll be. The best thing you could possibly do is go out there and show him just what he's letting go." Placing a small kiss on Harry's cheek, Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and started pulling him to the door, saying, "I expect we missed breakfast. No bother, I'm not very hungry anyway."

Harry heard Ron's wail of "But I am," and smiled. Gathering his books together, he thought about what Hermione had said, and decided she was right. The moping had been rather fun yesterday, what with getting both Hermione and Ron to do his bidding, but carrying it on into today would just make him look like a lovesick idiot, and though he was that, there was no way he wanted Draco—no, Malfoy, damn it—to know that.

With this thought firmly entrenched in his mind, Harry shoved his books into his bag and marched out of the common room, head high as he headed for Potions, and D-Malfoy.

The first thing that Harry noticed as he walked into Potions was that Snape was not present, which was unusual to say the least. Snape was always in his classroom before the students, ready with some scathing comment for the Gryffindors in general or Harry in particular. Giving a mental shrug at this oddity Harry sat down next to Hermione, who smiled at him before burying her nose back in the book she had been reading before Harry had come in. Harry shared a Look with Ron before his eyes were pulled unwillingly to the Slytherin half of the room, and one seat in particular.

Draco wasn't there, and for a minute Harry felt concern pricking at him, before he remembered that he was supposed to be working at hating the other boy again. Angry with himself for giving in so early, he started to turn his gaze away, when he noticed none other than Pansy Parkinson staring at him, a speculative look on her face. Eyes widening slightly, Harry tore his gaze away from the girl and stared at the tabletop, thinking with a sinking feeling in his stomach that D-Malfoy had told all of Slytherin what had happened in the Room of Requirement. He heard a snicker from that side of the room, and his back tensed. Ron noticed and leaned over Hermione to ask, "Alright, Harry?"

Harry was about to reply when none other than Professor Snape swooped into the room in all his sexy glory (this is for you hobo!). Glaring at Harry, he snapped, "Potter, close your mouth. Five points from Gryffindor for talking during class." Then he proceeded to lecture on the potion they would be making that day, before telling them to get to work. Harry, still concerned with the fact that all of Slytherin most likely knew that he had a thing for Draco Malfoy, was absently adding some lacewing to his potion when Hermione grabbed his wrist. "Harry, what on earth are you doing?" she demanded. "You add that stuff now and the whole thing will explode." She pointed to the instructions written in Harry's messy scrawl on a piece of parchment. "You have to add the shrivelfig before the lacewing, then stir." Harry grinned sheepishly and was just about to thank Hermione before he was interrupted.

"Five points from Gryffindor for helping Potter with his potion, Miss Granger. Potter, start over," Snape said, giving Harry an evil smirk as he did so. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape cut him off. "Ten points from Gryffindor for disobeying me, Potter. Now, go sit by Miss Parkinson. I trust that there won't be any problems."

Harry didn't even bother trying to change Snape's mind. Instead, he began to collect his things, and was reaching for his cauldron when his swift and sometimes irrational anger took over. Glaring at Snape, who was turned away from Harry and helping Goyle with his potion, Harry reached out—and knocked his still simmering potion off of his desk.

The cauldron made a satisfying thump as it hit the floor; the sound in the nearly silent room was as loud as a gunshot. The unfinished potion went everywhere, splattering the floor and several desks…and the hem of Snape's robes. Slowly Snape turned to yell at Harry, but before he could even open his mouth, something happened which put all thoughts of yelling at anyone out of his mind…for the time being.

There was a sizzling sound, and as the students watched, wide-eyed, as Harry's potion began destroying everything it had touched, just like acid. Holes appeared in the floor, and the desks. Harry stared at these for a few moments, fascinated, before he remembered the potion that had gotten on Snape's robes. As luck would have it, it was at that exact moment that Snape let out a howl of pain.

Everyone in the class turned to stare at Snape, mouths dropping open as they witnessed their professor hopping up and down on one foot and then the other while simultaneously shrugging off his robes. With his robes gone, Snape raised one foot and tore off his shoes and socks, then the other, revealing horribly blistered feet—no doubt another lovely result of Harry's unfinished disaster.

Snape massaged his foot for a few moments, then turned his hate-filled eyes on Harry. "Get out," he hissed. "Get out right now and maybe I won't kill you."

Harry didn't need to be told twice, and he was out of the classroom in a flash, Ron's promise to bring his stuff barely registering in his mind. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He would never have pushed the damn cauldron off of the table had he known…but that didn't mean he wasn't quite happy with the result, anyway. And as an added bonus, he had the rest of the hour off, without detention.

Deciding that the day might not be so horrible after all, Harry made his way down to the kitchens. Lunch wasn't for another two hours, and Harry was beginning to feel the affects of missing breakfast.

Ron was delighted with the food that Harry gave him after Potions. Hermione was not. "I can't believe you did that, Harry," she said disapprovingly, wagging her finger in his face. Ron grinned.

"I' wa' beau'ful," he said 'round a mouthful of food. He gave Harry a thumbs up, and when Hermione turned her glare on him put them down…but he was still grinning.

Hermione turned her glare back on Harry, who tried to look innocent. Hermione wasn't fooled. "Don't try that look on me," she snapped, "I saw you knock that cauldron off the table, Harry. On purpose," she emphasized, glaring all the harder. Harry shrugged.

"So what if I did?" he answered. "It's not as if Snape doesn't deserve it, the way he acts all the time. And besides, no on can prove I did it on purpose."

Hermione shook her head. "I do, Harry, and I'm not so sure that I shouldn't tell someone the truth." At Harry's incredulous look, she sighed and continued, "It isn't that I don't think you have every right to be angry. I would have been furious if he did the same to me. It's that you don't even feel bad for nearly destroying his class, and hurting him as well. That's what worries me."

Ron snorted. "Stop being so dramatic, 'Mione," he told her. "You know better than anyone that the teachers will have the room fixed in no time. And you know that the potion barely touched Snape. Besides, if it were any other Professor, Harry would feel bad."

Hermione sighed again, and then nodded. "Okay," she said, looking at her timetable. "We have Herbology next. Let's get going before we're late."

Lunch that day was definitely interesting. It seemed that everyone in school had heard about what had happened in Harry's Potions class, and were either sending him disapproving glares or congratulating him on a job well done. The Gryffindors in particular were ecstatic…after suffering in Snape's class with the Slytherins, they felt that it was about time they had some retribution. Dean had clapped him on the back, Seamus had let him take the last piece of chicken, Ginny had given him all of her chocolate frogs, Lavender and Parvati had both kissed him, which had made him blush to the roots of his hair, and in what was probably the weirdest thank-you of all, Neville had burst into tears and kissed him as well.

During all this Hermione had alternated between glaring and smiling at everyone's happiness, and Ron had been stealing Harry's newly acquired chocolate frogs and stuffing them into his mouth, grinning unrepentantly when Harry finally caught him at it. Harry himself was enjoying the merriment that his unthinking actions had caused, and trying not to think of what Draco's expression would be when he found out what had happened. He'd given up on calling him Malfoy sometime during History of Magic, where despite his best efforts at paying attention he fell into sleep and a dream in which Draco loved him as well, and they frolicked in high, blue grass. It wasn't until huge orange bunnies had started hopping around them that he realized Ron must have slipped one of the twins' Drunken Donuts into his impromptu breakfast and woke up with a little scream. That had certainly livened up the class, at the very least.

And here he was right now, trying not to think of Draco…except everything that he looked at reminded him of the arrogant blonde. Dean's hand on his back had brought with it the memory of Draco's hands clutching his shoulders as he kissed him, the chicken Seamus gave him reminded him of how cute Draco had looked guarding his own plate of chicken the first night in the Room, and Neville's sloppy, teary kiss-- though reminiscent of Cho more than anything else-- had reminded Harry of how perfect kissing Draco had been.

Giving a slight groan Harry stood up. "I need to get some air," he told his friends, and before they could ask to come with him, left the Great Hall, unaware of a pair of blue eyes following his every move.

Once outside Harry made his way for the Quidditch Pitch, where he liked to go and think. It was there that he had come up with his Plan for Draco, and now it would be the place he moped over said Plan working a little too well. Sitting in the stands, he looked up at the different hoops on either side of the field and thought about how relaxing flying was, which of course led to thoughts of playing Quidditch, which invariably led to thoughts of playing against Draco…and then he was just thinking about Draco, which immediately made him wish that he had a way to just not think…leading to another Plan, though this was not quite as brilliant.

Which was why when Pansy finally found Harry, he was banging his head against the stands as hard as he could, muttering "stupid, stupid, stupid" under his breath as he did so.

For his part, Harry didn't notice anyone else with him until he heard Pansy's voice drawl, "I wouldn't do that if I were you Potter. I've heard that hitting your skull on hard surfaces kills brain cells and I doubt you have any left to spare."

Harry stopped rapping his head on the stands to glare at Pansy balefully. "What do you want, Parkinson?" he demanded angrily. "If you're here to gloat I really wish you'd get it over with and just leave. I'm trying beat myself into oblivion here." When he was finished speaking Harry pulled his head back, fully intending to resume his earlier activity, but Pansy grabbed a hold of his head before he could.

"Wait," she said. "Just let me say what I came out here to say and I'll let you go back to killing the last brain cell you have. Okay?" Harry nodded resignedly, and Pansy let his head go. Taking a deep breath, she looked Harry square in the eye and said, "I know what happened this weekend between you and Draco, and I'm not going to tell anyone. I don't particularly like you but if you're what Draco wants then I guess I'll tolerate your presence." She nodded slightly, smiled at Harry, who was gaping like a fish, then turned and left the pitch briskly, giving Harry no time to reply.

Not that Harry could have. His vocal chords had locked up with the hope that maybe, just maybe, Draco didn't hate him after all. From what Pansy had said Draco might actually want Harry…maybe as much as Harry wanted him? Harry sat pondering this for a few minutes, completely forgetting his intention to rid himself of every memory of Draco through the loss of brain cells, until he was pulled out of his musings by Hermione.

"There you are," she called, shading her eyes from the sun and looking up at him. "Lunch is over. You better get to class; Ron has your things." Sending Hermione a nod he made his way down to her. When he reached her Hermione asked, "I saw Parkinson leaving here earlier. Did she say anything to you?" Harry shook his head no and smiled at Hermione, resolving to think about Pansy's words during dinner.

Of course Harry didn't thing about it during dinner. He thought about it during Divination, where Trelawney told him he would surely die by asphyxiation in the near future, and that he should be wary of people with especially bushy hair—it seemed Trelawney still hadn't forgiven Hermione for calling her a fraud in third year. He thought about it during Transfiguration, where he made the mistake of transfiguring his beetle into a pair of headphones rather than the quill he'd been attempting. Ron had asked to keep the headphones to show his father, and Professor McGonagall had rolled her eyes but said that he might as well.

Needless to say, by the time dinner rolled around Harry was a bit of a wreck. Both Hermione and Ron were giving him concerned looks as they made their way to the Great Hall. Finally Ron asked, "You okay, mate?"

Harry looked into their worried faces and felt bad for practically ignoring them all day. They were his best friends, perhaps they could help him with is current problem. At any rate it would make him feel better to have someone to discuss his problem with. So Harry pulled them into a random hall and told them exactly what Pansy had told him earlier. When he was finished he asked worriedly, "Well? What do you think? Do you think I have a chance?"

Harry didn't find out what they thought, however. At the same moment his friends opened their mouths to respond, Harry felt an insistent tugging at his navel, and his friends faded as Harry was pulled away.

Feeling nauseous, Harry closed his eyes until his world stopped spinning, and he felt his feet hit solid ground. Opening his eyes cautiously, Harry gave a small gasp of surprise when he realized where he was.

He was in the Room of Requirement, but it wasn't the same room that he had brought Draco to. This Room was ultimately more comfortable, with a soft carpet under his feet, not one but two fires blazing on either side of the Room, and cushy furniture everywhere. Even the bed looked better, with what looked like down pillows and a down comforter on top of it, and—experimentally Harry sat on the bed—what had to be the softest mattress in the world. Harry was just getting off of the bed when the door to the Room opened and Draco Malfoy stepped inside.

Harry stared at Draco apprehensively. What did the other boy want? As if reading his mind, Draco smirked and said, "I wanted to make you miss dinner like you did to me; though somehow I doubt I had the fortune to catch you on a day when you missed breakfast and lunch as well." Harry felt his hopes fall around his feet in a shattered mess. All Draco had wanted was revenge for Harry's ill-timed kidnap of Draco.

"Sorry, you should have told me what you were planning. Maybe then I could have been more accommodating," Harry snapped, and headed towards the door. He was almost there when Draco stepped in front of him.

"Oh, no, Harry," he said softly. "You wont be getting away that easily." Draco took hold of Harry's arms and reversed their positions so that Harry was the one with his back to the door, with Daco's hands planted on the wall on either side of him to keep him from escaping. But Harry had other plans. Quick as a flash he had turned around and wrenched open the door—only to hear Draco's laughter as the door refused to budge. "You didn't think I'd leave the door unlocked, did you Potter?" he asked through his laughter, and Harry sent Draco a glare, before a smile lit up his face.

"But you forget, Draco, that I know how the Room works," he snapped, and then thought, I really need the door to unlock now. Smirking triumphantly over his shoulder, Harry tried to open the door once again, and his face fell when it didn't. Turning around and glaring at Draco, Harry hissed, "What did you do?"

Draco grinned. "You really don't believe I didn't know you'd try that once you found the door was locked, do you?" he asked incredulously, then resumed his laughter. "I'm a Slytherin, Potter, which means that I Plan much, much better than you ever could. Now, I have something to say, and you're not leaving until I'm finished. If you still want to go when I'm done, well, you can, but not until then. Now, are you going to be a good boy and listen, or am I going to have to put a silencing charm on you?"

Harry opened his mouth to tell Draco what he could do with that idea, but Draco was much quicker. Before Harry could so much as speak Draco had whipped out his wand and cast a silencing charm on Harry, watching with amusement as Harry continued to try and talk.

"I like this," he said, and Harry wanted to kill him. "I just might have to leave you like this forever." Giving Draco his fiercest glare, Harry made as if to hit him, and Draco grabbed his arms and forced them to his sides. Harry tried to kick him instead, and Draco leaned against Harry, using the weight of his body to still the other boy's struggles. "None of that," he told Harry softly. "Just listen to what I have to say, and then you'll be free to go. I promise."

Harry glared at Draco a moment longer before he gave in and nodded. He would never tell Draco, but the main reason he agreed was that he was liking the way Draco was leaning into him way to much, and if the other boy didn't get off Harry was afraid he might do something stupid, like try to kiss him.

So Harry felt disappointment and relief in equal parts as Draco stepped back, eyeing Harry warily as though he thought the darker boy might try to hit him again. He didn't. Instead, he walked to one of the chairs and sat on it, waiting not so patiently for Draco to say whatever he had to so that he could get out of there. Harry didn't have any clue what Draco wanted to tell him, but he did know that if he never saw the Room of Requirement again, it would be far too soon.

Draco swallowed heavily and sat across from Harry. Looking him straight in the eye he said, "When you first dragged me to this Room, I wanted to hurt you. Hell, I wanted to beat the living daylights out of you and leave you in the hall for any random person to find. Then, when you kissed me, I wanted to do more than hurt you. I wanted to kill you." Unable to handle that frank stare for any longer, Harry looked away, hurt that the person he'd come to love still hated him so.

But Draco wouldn't let him look away. Giving a soft sigh he took Harry's chin in his hand and forced the boy to look at him. "Look at me, please," he said, and Harry forced himself to gaze back into those silver eyes. Draco continued, "It only got worse, you know. Every time I tried to tell myself that I hated you, that I didn't want you, you would do something to make my words a lie. You kept offering yourself to me, and after a while I couldn't say no anymore."

Draco paused and looked away, and Harry took that time to collect himself. He really didn't like where this conversation was going. He didn't like knowing that Draco now hated him even more for pretty much forcing himself on the blonde, and making him do something he really had not wanted to do. Draco turned to look at him again, and Harry told himself that the torture would only last a little while loner. Soon, Draco would be done with his say and Harry could leave. Turns out the only good thing that this was accomplishing was destroying any hopes that Harry might have had that Draco could feel the same. Harry didn't doubt that going back to being his arch nemesis would be very hard after this.

Draco took a deep breath and continued, "And then it was over, and I was allowed to leave. You weren't going to force me into anything. I could just go, and never think about this again…only I couldn't. I couldn't just let it go and I have to ask you something. Was it really so easy for you? Did you feel nothing at all? Because if you went and made me fall for you without feeling anything yourself…" Draco trailed off, then shook his head. "Forget it. I don't know what I was thinking," he muttered. Released Harry from the spell and looked away, saying, "I would prefer it if you forgot this ever happened, Potter," his voice cold.

Now it was Harry's turn to shake his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that Malfoy," he answered, and Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Why not?" he asked, and Harry smirked.

Getting up from his chair he crossed the small space to Draco, and straddled him. Bringing his face close to Draco's, he told the Slytherin, "Because there's no way in hell I'm going to forget that you fell for me, too."

Draco's eyes widened at Harry's words, and he grinned. "Really?" he asked, and Harry laughed.

"Yeah," he replied. "Much as I hate to say it," he added, and Draco laughed, then pouted.

"What is it now?" Harry asked, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly Potter, here we are confessing our undying love for one another, and you have to go and ruin it."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but found himself rather occupied as Draco buried his hands in his hair and brought Harry's mouth to his. And Harry decided on the spot that he rather liked whatever god was in charge of Brilliant Plans, after all.

Finite, baby.

Yes my dearies, that is it. The end. It's a done deal. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think. And one more time, go read hobo's fic. I'll even give the direct link for all you lazy ppl. Here it is: http:?storyid=1833015 also check out her other fics if you can. They are hilarious. With that said I'm off…maybe to write more Harry/Draco goodness… sigh we can only hope.

Review! Review! Review!