Chapter, the first

Pink was really not Snape's color.

Harry wondered at his inane thoughts as he watched the enraged Potions Master's face flush to match his newly tinted hair. Somehow, Harry was not entirely sure that the famous Potter luck was going to come through for him this time.

"WHAT part of don't put the shredded boomslang skin in with the grubblish beans didn't you understand?"

Harry swallowed uncomfortably, noticing for the first time how warm the dark potions classroom could get. "Sorry, Sir."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor! And I want a three foot parchment on the properties of boomslang skin and grubblish beans and the reasons why this—"he pointed to the smoldering remains of his Tranqumore potion—"happened."

Harry heard snickers from the Slytherins and an almost silent groan from Hermione as Professor Snape continued to yell. He flushed even brighter red and, when the Potion's master finished yelling, began to clean up the melted remains of his cauldron. What Harry couldn't understand was that he could have sworn that he had grabbed the anise buds rather than the electric blue grubblish beans. He cast a surreptitious look around the room and caught the silver eye of a smirking, incredibly smug, Malfoy.

Ah. Well, at least I know I am not a complete idiot.

The summer between sixth and seventh year had done Malfoy some good; he was no longer the short, pointed face little boy he had been. Malfoy had grown to a respectable height of 5'11" and, though still built like a seeker, had put on enough muscle for the female population of Hogwarts to call him 'dreamy.' His face had matured and filled out to be an aristocratic and very handsome vision. Harry, who had long since accepted his own loose sexuality, could acknowledge that his third most hated enemy was a very beautiful person. That didn't mean he like the snarky little ferret.

Harry flipped Malfoy a rather obscene hand gesture, which the Slytherin graciously returned, and finished disposing of his cauldron. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look as she finished her own, dark green, perfectly brewed Tranqumore Potion. Harry wondered why on earth he had chosen to go into Advanced Potions even if he did need it for Auror training. Why did he want to be an Auror again? Oh, yes. He remembered. There was a psychopath out to destroy him and every one of the people he cared about. So silly of him to have forgotten.

Harry chuckled humorlessly to himself before forcing his mind off of the unpleasant realities of life. He pasted on a calm, happy-Harry mask and began his extra essay in the last few minutes of class. Hermione gave him a shocked look at his initiative, but seemed not to want to question such a miracle.

The essay was going to be very difficult. Grubblish beans were native to a tiny all-magical island country off of the coast of Greece that was rather anti-social and xenophobic, which essentially meant that very little information existed in English on the magical beans. Nonetheless, the essay was a distraction, and if there was ever something Harry Potter needed, it was a distraction from his life and the headache tingling in the back of his mind.

Draco Malfoy was bored. Very, very bored. And slightly horny, until he glanced to his right and caught sight of the simpering flower batting her eyelashes in his direction.

Pansy again. My god, when is that idiot going to get the message that I don't want to contract a venereal disease?

Harry Potter was not reacting in a satisfactory manner. To think, he had gone through all that trouble to switch his potions ingredients, and the boy hadn't even gotten angry at him! This was not acceptable. Draco Malfoy was not losing his touch. He was just… a little off today. Nothing to worry about, just a normal off day.

But why is he ignoring me today? He never lets something that obvious go… he looks cute when he's thinking. WHAT?

Draco Malfoy suddenly had the feeling that even though it was only Monday, this was not going to be his week.

He had no idea just how right he was.

At dinner that night, Harry's headache decided to descend on him with a vengeance. Ron and Hermione snipped loudly over him, but Harry couldn't understand a word they were saying. His goblet of pumpkin juice seemed to be thrown in high relief, and the chicken on his plate seemed to give off a nauseatingly strong scent.

"That is not true, Ronald Weasley!"

"Yes, it is! You write to Krum every day!"

"I do not! I didn't write him yesterday!"

"Okay, so every other day."

"I don't see why you should even care! It's not like he ever did anything to you!"

"Its annoying, it is. And disloyal."

"Disloyal? What—how on earth did you come up with that?"

"He goes to Durmstrang!"

"So? Dumbledore told us that we need to stay together in all this and—"

"Oh, so this is about the good of the wizarding world, is it?"

"Actually, Ron, it—"

"If you two don't shut up about this I am going to scream!"

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, startled. "Alright, mate?" Ron looked worried. "Is it your scar"

"No, it's not my bloody scar! You two, can you just get on with it already?"

"What?" Hermione looked confused. "Get on with what?"

"Just go shag already!" With that, the savior of the wizarding world stomped from the Great Hall, leaving two very shocked Gryffindors staring at his retreating form and any where other than at each other.

Severus Snape had never liked the soap operas that characterized teenage emotions. The silliness that came with the sexual frenzy of the upper years had always annoyed him, but he hadn't realized how aggravating teenage love was until Draco Malfoy hit his sixth year. Now, he constantly had to deal with the heartbroken remains of the wretches that were foolish enough to think that the Slytherin Prince would actually fall in love with them. The blond Adonis had been destined for a different fate than such human ties, but that didn't stop the boy from practicing his reproductive skills.

"But, Professor, he loves me! I know he does, he's just afraid!" Cora Monroe of Ravenclaw was crying rather messily. Snape curled his lip in distaste.

"Miss Monroe, it is rather unlikely that you have any significant insight into the convoluted mind of Mr. Malfoy. Kindly cease your pointless tears and get yourself back to your common room before I deduct house points."

"Please Professor! Please tell me the password!" she gestured wildly to the stone wall entrance to the Slytherin common room. "I know he loves me deep down, I just need to show him that it's okay!"

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw for this disgusting display of disregard for the wishes of Mr. Malfoy. If he wanted you in the common room, he would have invited you in. Now, get out of my dungeons before you force me to reduce your house's points into the negatives."

Snape watched with satisfaction as the blonde girl paled at his harsh tone and fled from the dungeons. His pleased feelings disappeared abruptly as he recalled what the girl had been doing there in the first place.

"Essence of belladonna." Snape entered through the previously solid stone wall and stalked into the lush green common room and up to the elegantly sprawled form of the resident heartbreaker. "Mr. Malfoy, if I have to send another sobbing girl—or boy, as the case has sometimes been—away from the dungeons, there will be consequences. It is not my job to handle such issues, and you are never to bring them to the common room again."

Malfoy smirked slightly. "Sorry, Professor."

"No, you aren't." Malfoy allowed his smirk to widen. "Take them somewhere else to shag them, just keep them away from here!" Snape stalked out of the common room, his robe billowing dramatically around him as he went.

Malfoy kept his smirk on for a few minutes later before gracefully rising from the couch and striding upstairs to his private room. Only when he got there did he allow his face to relax. He had no regrets for dumping Cora, none at all. That wasn't the point. He had known that he could never have a real relationship with her, even if he wanted to, and had gone into the liaison with a keen eye on the pretty girl's well formed body. His time with the girl had not changed his mind about her permanence, but she was an enjoyable diversion. Or was, until she decided that their relationship needed to be taken to the next level, that is, that they should go public.

Malfoy snorted. The idea that he, Draconis Lucius Maximilien Malfoy, would have public displays of affection with a Ravenclaw who lacked the necessary bloodlines was ridiculous. None of his friends would believe that he wasn't doing it for some hidden reason, and the rest of Hogwarts would worry whether or not the poor Ravenclaw's life was safe—perhaps they should warn her not to visit any unpopulated areas with men in black masks…

No, Malfoy decided. The diversion that had been Cora Monroe was over. He needed a new fuck buddy, if his horniness in Potions class today was any indication. All he had to do was look for someone he hadn't already been with that passed muster.