" –that's just not a way to treat a girl Ron. Honestly … have you no sense? It's a worldly known thing."

11 a.m. Griffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, Schotland

"Why not, Hermione? If you're so clever, why don't you tell me how I should treat girls?"

Amazing how they can just float around each other … without noticing how the other one feels.

"You don't go to a random girl, and say " 'Hey, you're hot, wanna date?' You'll never be a gentleman like this."

They obviously have feelings for one another. I wish I was so certain of my own.

"Who says I wanna be one?"

Hermione sighed exasperated. From Harry's spot in the chair he could see her and Ron's every move. Turning to him slightly, Hermione raised her voice and said, "Harry, what's you're opinion? Or haven't you been listening?" Ron turned to him in a agitated way, as if saying, 'If you agree with her, you shall be punished.'

Harry sighed and sat up. He looked at them and shrugged. Why did they always have to involve him in these kind of discussions? Couldn't they handle them themselves? He was tired of it. Every time he had some time to think for his own, he was rudely interrupted by the two raised voices of his two best friends. They were at it every single day!

"I don't know." He stood up and headed for the boys dormitories. But clearly he wasn't going to get out of this one, for Ron said: "You don't know? Yeah, that reminds me ... you hardly ever speak of girls anymore. What's happened? Are you supposed to tell us something?"

This was really out of the blue. Harry turned around and looked at Ron in a annoyed way. Hermione just stood there, eyeing Harry, but glancing at Ron too, ever so often.

"What's that got to do with anything, Ron? Really, I don't know why you bring this up so suddenly. So what, I don't pay much attention to girls? At least I'm no horny git who drools around a bunch of them every day." Harry didn't care that he was going to get Ron agitated and he knew that Ron was getting very annoyed; his red face and ears gave it away, really. He also knew that this wasn't like his normal behavior. True, last year he had been very moody and he had yelled at his best friends often, but what could a person expect after you've just lost your only family left. But it still wasn't how he normally treated Ron. But he didn't care. At least once a week Ron would bring up the subject of girls and everything he would scold Harry for the lack of attention he was giving them, saying that Harry was just still grieving about Cho. And he was sick of it.

Ron's face had reached his top of redness, it now slowly turned into purple. "What's that supposed to mean?" And with that he just turned around and stormed of towards the portrait, swinging it open and revealing a shocked Fat Lady on the other side.

Harry sighed and turned to the stairs for the second time, but still ... he was held back by Hermione's voice.

"H-Harry ..." She did look very careful, as if not to anger Harry. "You know, you can always talk to me if you've got something on you're chest, right?"

Harry's expression softened and he smiled at her briefly. "I know Hermione, trust me, I do."


Grand Lake, grass, 3 p.m.

Stalled out in front of Harry were; his wand-polishing kit, the polish, a soft brush, a piece of cotton and a book on how to polish wands. All laid out carefully on a blanket. Harry had gotten a new kit from Hagrid for his birthday and it had been a long time since he had used it. His wand was smudged and fingered. And just when he was about to pick up the polish and raise it to his wand, he was rudely interrupted by none other than ...

"What's that Potter? Caring after your wand? How sweet." Draco Malfoy's voice dripped with sarcasm and his face was scrunched with hidden laughter.

Harry sighed, "What do you care, Malfoy? Bugger off."

"What? Are you to cool to pick up a good fight? Anyway, to answer your question: Most of the time – and you ought to know that by now – curiosity takes the better of us and we asks things that may sound stupid. With that I'm certainly not implying that I asked a stupid question, but – you know – just trying to get my point across. And by the way not everyone wants their wand to be shiny, I mean, I understand why I do it, but why do you – what's with that look?"

Harry had stood up and was now positioned exactly in front of Malfoy. Not really knowing what he was doing, he suddenly lunged forward, grabbed his robes and pulled Malfoy's mouth roughly against his, taking the other one totally by surprise. He was shocked himself too, really. He didn't know what had taken him to do this kind of things, but it really felt like the best thing to do.

And it really did ... feel good. Even if Malfoy had been surprised, there wasn't a trace of uncertainness left in his actions anymore. His mouth was dry against Harry's and he was clinging to Harry's robes as if his life depended on it. When his finger came in touch with the nape of Harry's neck, Harry seemed to come to his senses. He quickly pulled back and glared at the white haired adult – yes, an adult, he was, as far as Harry was concerned, 18 years old, so he could be considered a man – with a look of utter shock. Malfoy, however, kept his grace and smoothed back his blonde hair back, saying, "So much for wand polishing." And then he just smirked.

Harry just stared back in shock, before turning and running to the castle at top speed.


Great Hall, Gryffindor table, 7 p.m.

The days after that were hell for Harry. He wasn't able to look Ron and Hermione in the eye, and, if they asked him what was wrong and why he was spacing out all the time, he would avoid their questions and change the subject quickly.

As for his matters with Malfoy. He didn't really know. He didn't even know if there even was a name for it. He glanced at him once in a while and what he saw wasn't really different form before; Malfoy joked around with fellow Slytherins and laughed and never got detention and joked around with fellow Slytherins and made fun of the Gryffindors and joked around with - okay, stop the staring. Anyway, he seemed not to be affected by their little event. At least, Harry didn't think Malfoy was affected by any of it, of course, he could never be sure. So the only thing left to do was walk up to him and asked him what the heck had been wrong with them and how things would go from now on. Really, it wasn't that hard.

"Potter, come with me, we need to talk." His voice was brisk and his face was concentrated. "And try to act as if I'm bullying you, will you? I don't want people to get the wrong ideas. I've got a reputation to keep up. And, please tell me," he glanced around, "what the fuck are you doing polishing your wand again? That thing should have evaporated by now because of the amount of alcohol your rubbing on it." He had grabbed the back of Harry's robes and was practically dragging Harry through the Great Hall. Dinner time was almost over and every one was shoveling the last bit of dessert in their mouths. Harry hadn't been hungry and had decided to polish his wand once again (last time he wasn't able to finish it, of course).

When they arrived at the front steps of the castle, Malfoy let go of Harry and sat down on the stone steps. Harry was still too dazed and shocked to really do a thing. Finally, he let himself fall down so he was seated one feet next to Malfoy.

"You wanted to talk?" he asked, casually, all the nerves to stand and speak up to Malfoy vanished. "What's there to talk about?"

Malfoy turned around slowly, a look of extreme astonishment on his face. "What do you mean, 'What's there to talk about?' What the fuck is that? We fucking kissed! are you trying to tell me nothing happened?"

Harry looked at him query, "What do you want to happen, then? Yeah, we kissed. But it was a mistake, a huge mistake. We never should've done it."

"We? Just for the reference: You kissed me. Not the other way around or something in between."

Somehow they had started walking and they were a far end from the castle now. Hagrid's cabin could already be seen and behind it the forbidden forest. Harry turned around angrily, "Yeah, well, I did it, but I never should have! And don't try to say you didn't feel anything!"

If someone could see them, they would think that it were two boys picking a fight with each other; one positioned in front of the other, three feet separating them and both looking as foul as they could.

"I never said that, Potter," Malfoy spoke, his voice calmer than before. "I also never said that we shouldn't have done it. I never said that."

This seemed to subdue Harry's anger too. He looked around at everything, but at Malfoy, and started fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe. "What is it," he turned his face towards him, "that you want then, Malfoy? Why did you want to talk?"

Malfoy casted his eyes down, "I ... um ... I wanted ... I ... oh, I don't know, fuck it all, I think I just want you to do it again.."

That was enough of an invitation to Harry.


You can't say that they spent much time together, but the relationship was certainly there - there was the occasional snog in a broomcloset and a secret glance during potions for example. Harry wouldn't even have considered to become gay (even though he did notice that girls didn't really attract him anymore), but suddenly it was there. As was his relationship with Draco Malfoy... supposedly his enemy, that's what everyone still thought, to be honest. Hermione had peeled the words out of him and was delighted and outraged at the same time - "Malfoy? Harry! Out of all people!" - but promised not to tell anybody, not even Ron.

Ever since all that had happened, he had started to pick up wandpolishing as an habit. Whenever he had some free time he would start polishing wands, his, Hermione's, even some of his classmates has asked him to polish theirs. So that's exactly what he was doing now; polishing. And all just because when Harry was polishing, Malfoy seemed to appear out of nowhere and said something, which led to certain other things. Things that shouldn't be mentioned now. I'll save you the details.

"Oi, Potter, since you seem to like it so much," Harry looked up at the voice of his former enemy, "why don't you polish my wand for once?" The glint in Malfoy's eyes was unmistakably cunning, he certainly was up to something. Harry smiled, oblivious and way to happy to see him again to notice a thing, "Sure, why not?"

After Malfoy had led him to the Slytherin common-room, Harry had found his wand in no time ... fingered it for a bit, held it at eye-height and started to look very confused.

"Malfoy? Why would you want me to polish your wand? It's as shiny as ever and it seems like you've just polished it this morning." He turned to see Malfoy, staring at him from behind a curtain of fair hair, he was smirking.

"True, I did."

The crease on Harry's forehead became deeper. "Then what -?"

"Not that wand, you idiot."