Summary: Malfoys don't welsh on bets...but then again, this Malfoy didn't think he'd be in love with Harry Potter.

A/N: A Prequel of sorts to "Blood Promise". This is the second story in the series.


"Potter, I'd like to have a word with you," came the insolent voice from behind him. Harry finished cinching up his elbow pads then turned on the bench to look at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry sighed, seemingly bored with Draco's antics.

"You all right, there, Harry?" Ron asked, stepping between the two.

"I'm not going to hex your star player, Weaselby, if that's what you're worried about," Draco sneered. The other Gryffindors began to quietly leave the locker room.

"I'm more worried about what Harry could do to you, Ferret Face," Ron scowled.

"I don't need your concern, half-wit," Draco replied. Harry wanted to laugh.

"It's okay, Ron. I think I want to hear what he has to say. You go on out."

"Don't be late, Harry. It's the last game of our school career," Ron begged, grabbing his broom. Giving Draco an unreadable look, Ron left them alone. Draco and Harry stared at each other for a minute longer before Draco launched himself at Harry, claiming his lips. They came up for air a few moments later.

"God I didn't think he was ever going to leave!" Draco sighed, leaning his forehead against Harry's shoulder.

"Missed me, did you?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Draco smiled, as Harry kissed him again.

Harry and Draco had been a couple since the end of their 5th year, when Draco had been forced by Dumbledore to spend the summer with Harry's "evil muggle" family. Dumbledore had claimed it was part of Draco's learning experience on how Harry spent his time when he wasn't at Hogwarts. And he'd even left instructions to them to treat Draco like they treated other words, Draco became little more than a common servant.

The Dursleys had been out to dinner and a movie, leaving the two boys locked in the house to varnish the dining room table and chairs. Harry had taken off his shirt because it was a hot summer evening and none of the doors had been open. Draco's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when he caught a glimpse of a shirtless Harry Potter. Harry had grown up, without Draco's notice. At 11, Harry was very much like an ugly duckling. At 17, he was - in a word - gorgeous. No wonder all the girls and a few of the boys drooled over him.

Harry had caught him staring and without thinking, kissed him. Draco was floored. It was the last thing he expected Harry to do and if he was honest with himself, he'd been wanting Harry to kiss him for a very long time. That very same night, Harry invited Draco into his bed. They'd been together ever since.

At the time only 3 people knew of their relationship. Hermione - because Harry had told her (Ron came later and was harder to convince), Pansy - because Draco had told her, and Snape - because he'd caught them in the act during one of his detentions.

Harry brought his mind back to the present and the pale blonde in his arms.

"So what did you need to see me about, love?"

"It's the last Quidditch match between you and me, Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"I realize that," Harry smiled.

"What will you do now that it's over?"

"I'm thinking about working with snakes."

"That's brilliant," Draco smiled. "You do have a talent for it. Although I am surprised you don't become an Auror or a pro-Quidditch player."

"'re stalling," Harry knew him so well.

"Ok...well...I want to make a bet with you."

"What kind of bet?"

"If Slytherin beats Gryffindor by more than 175 points, you have to do whatever I ask."

"What if I win?" Draco noticed he didn't mention the team as a whole but left that alone. After playing against Harry since second year, he knew better.

"Same terms."

"If Gryffindor beats Slytherin by more than 175 points, you have to announce to everyone at breakfast the following morning that you love me and want to have my children," Draco gaped at him in astonishment, as his heart beat hard against his chest. He warmed at the idea of having Harry's children.

"Deal, then. Shall we make this a Blood Promise?"

"That's a serious promise, Drae," Harry warned. "Sure you want to do that?"

"As sure as the sun rises and falls each day."

"We'll need witnesses for this, you know."

"Taken care of," Draco nodded. Then his mind wrapped around something.

"You want to marry me?"

"You caught on, finally," Harry grinned. "And I'm not asking twice."

"You didn't ask the first time."

"Marry me, Draco."

"Let me think on that one."

"Don't take too long. I have a Snitch to catch," He kissed Draco hard and then left him.

The match between the two houses was nearing the 7 hour mark. Madame Hooch called an intermission so everyone could rest a bit and get something to eat. Harry and Draco rounded up their witnesses and met them in a secluded part of the Pitch.

"Draco are you sure about this?" Pansy asked him for the 10th time. "You know Harry always catches the damn thing."

"I'm sure Pansy. Haven't you been watching the score? We're up 150 points."

"But he's Harry Potter! Seeker of the Gods!"

"I agree with Parkinson on this one Draco," Snape stated. "You are going to lose."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sev," Draco scowled. Harry, Hermione and Ron soon joined them. Snape produced a quill and 2 parchments with the details of the individual bets mapped out.

"Gentlemen. Are you quite sure you want to do this?" he asked for the final time.

"Only if Draco is," Harry replied.

"I'm sure of it," Draco nodded, snatching the quill. He made a cut in his thumb with his wand and dipped the quill tip into it. Then he signed his name to both parchments. Snape spelled away his blood from the quill and handed it to Harry, who repeated Draco's actions. Once their signatures were set, the 4 witnesses signed their names before the parchments were sent away with a flick of Snape's wand. They each felt the magic of the bet taking hold. Somewhere in the distance, Madame Hooch signaled time. Harry gave one last look at Draco.

"I'm going to hold you to your promise, Malfoy."

"Then I guess I'm just going to have to beat you to the snitch, Potter," Draco grinned before walking away. "And by the way, the answer to your question is yes." He didn't stop to see the look of pure joy that passed over Harry's face.

Luck seemed to be against Draco and his Slytherin brothers from that moment on. Some serious discussion must have occurred in the Gryffindor locker room because they began to play with a passion that rivaled Slytherin's. They ganged up on Slytherin Beaters, Chasers and even their Keeper - racking up the points like candy.

Soon Gryffindor was in the lead, 845 to 770. Draco began to concentrate on looking for the Snitch. He cast a quick glance at Harry, who was also watching for it. Harry tensed for a moment, then went into a steep dive. More nervous than scared, and without thinking, Draco followed him, sure he was hot on the tail of the snitch. He nearly got knocked off his broom by a flying bludger, when he finally noticed Harry was no longer below him. Looking around quickly, he spotted him on the other side of the Pitch, seconds away from closing his hand around the Golden Snitch. Draco's eyes closed on a sigh as Lee's voice echoed over the field.


Harry caught Draco's eye across the way and smiled wickedly, melting Draco's heart. Draco resigned himself to the fate that awaited him the next morning. But he was going to try and persuade his boyfriend ("Fiancè" he reminded himself) to not go through with the bet. Never let it be said that a Malfoy welshes on a deal. But then again...this Malfoy never thought he'd be affianced to The Man Who Beat Voldemort...