Harry waltzed outside five minutes later with a much crappier broom than Draco had in his hand. YES!

And a much sleepier, more tired look about him. YES!

And a hopeless sappy smile for Draco. YES!

Harry Potter was: GOING DOWN….

Muhahahahahahahaha. Oh. OH! That was a particularly good one! YES!

Draco mounted his broom with boosted confidence - from crappy Potter brooms to perfect evil laughs, everything was coming up DRACO!

Draco held the snitch in his hand and then looked at Harry with deadly determined eyes. "Are you ready?"

Harry shrugged warmly. "Sure. Why not?"

Draco smirked excitedly and let go of the golden ball and-

He flew into the sky like the bolt of lightening he was! He whipped through the air like the snitch itself! And searched for the fast moving golden ball like a frigging honest to god bird of prey! And – oh, fuck…he wondered…just how far away was Harry?! And – shit…he couldn't deny the temptation to take a sneak peek, just a quick one, so he knew where he stood and-


Harry was zooming around in lazy circles behind Draco, staring right at Draco and wearing the stupidest grin on his face. "What are you doing?! You're not even trying!"

"Can't!" he yelled out through the wind.


Harry stopped and Draco zoomed over to Harry's side on his broom, suspended mid-air. Harry shook his head, catching his breath. "I can't do this."

"What?! Why?! What's the problem?"


Draco's eyes enlarged. "Me?! What?!"

Harry titled his head to the side. "I can't follow the snitch," he panted, "not while you're flying in the air in front of me! I'm sorry. But all I can see is that blonde hair – it's just flailing in the wind….and…glowing in the sun…and, well, I suddenly don't give a crap about the stupid bloody snitch anymore!" Harry bit his lip sheepishly and smiled softly at Draco, his cheeks burning pink.

At that point Draco Malfoy may well have glowed like the fucking sun itself.

Harry Potter actually liked his hair THAT MUCH?! Holy…

So much so that he couldn't even CHASE THE SNITCH?! Good lord…

"Really?" Draco blinked.

"Yes." Harry then shook his head, his face rich with embarrassment. "It's no good. When I can see you flying, well…I'm as good as err…putty in your hands."

What?! Putty?

Holy shit…


Heh heh…

An evil thought entered Draco Malfoy's calculating brain.

"Well, fucking hell Harry. That is: Just Great! Fuck….This Quidditch game is as good as over! Completely ruined! Bloody hell…" said Draco heatedly, pleased with his 'impeccable' little acting performance.

Had Hogwart's offered Speech and Drama, Draco Malfoy should perhaps have considered taking that class.

"I'm really sorry…" said Harry with unbridled sincerity.



"Yes well…" frowned the angry Academy Award winning wizard, crossing his arms for added effect.

And then…Draco continued, ever so nonchalantly, "Anyway. You just go ahead and do what you like Harry. I might just….fly around for a bit then," he purposefully swept some blonde hair off his forehead and then ran a hand through his slightly tangled locks, "and try to catch that snitch, you know, on my own. Make sure we get it back in its leather case and all. Wow. It is windy today…my hair's all messy…" He flicked his head once more once on his broom and turned Harry's way.

Harry's jaw was dropped. His eyes were glazed over…

His gaze was fixed on Draco's blonde hair…


Harry Potter was GOING DOWN. Care of one gorgeous blonde, Mr Draco Mafloy…


Half an hour later, two very satisfied and naked young men lay in bed together.

One Draco Malfoy congratulated himself on not only being the putty-maker, with the amazing hair, but the abuser of the privilege.


Honestly. Potter was such a sap. So easy to manipulate and twist around in the palm of his hand. Whereas Draco Malfoy was the man with all the power. All at his disposal…and so accessible – what with it being on his head and all! Ready to use whenever he wanted to…


Blonde hair that was of THE GODS. And he had it. Loads of it. Right. There. Heh heh…

He smirked an evil little smirk and delighted in, as it turns out, just how fucking brilliant and cold and calculating and evil he actually was! Generations of Malfoy's would be proud.

And then…he squished his little button nose against Harry's, rubbing it from side to side because Harry's nose was so squishy and button-like too…and then he planted a soft kiss on the very tip of Harry's nose…followed by just another one…and then one to the side…right there…yeah, on that very soft spot of skin…and a few feathery kisses right there too…oh…OH…now, that was a divine place to run his lips across…not to mention there…Oh…

Harry chuckled and squeezed him more tightly into his arms.

"So you like my hair?" Draco said, all but rubbing his blonde head into Harry's face and against Harry's lips.


"Like it?" Anyone else would have wondered how Harry had managed to actually speak with a headful of Draco hair practically shoved right into his mouth. "Draco. I fucking love it. God. It's the softest…silkiest thing I've ever touched. You have no idea how long I've wanted to just…feel it."


Draco's heart expanded and constricted all at once.

"Well…" he asked, toying with the sheet, "What else do you like about me?"

Harry sighed, "Your skin is incredible…it's all milky…and soft…and just so touchable…"

Draco's lungs stopped working for a moment.

But then he had on overwhelming desire to hear: More. More!

"Go on," he said tentatively.

Harry grinned. "And your eyes…they are the most amazing colour I've ever seen…kind of like a mixture of a grey wintry sky or a low rain cloud but with a hint of that light, light blue colour the sky sometimes takes on, when its really early in the morning- like a bit after dawn…"


"Oh…" Draco said in a small very un-Malfoyish voice.

Suddenly Draco felt as good as putty lying against the dark-haired wizard.


An hour later, Draco woke and unwillingly detached himself from Harry's side to go and indulge in a luxurious spa bath.

Some minutes later, he lay in the warm water, surrounded by towers of bubbles, and smiled softly to himself – still unbelievably elated by his brilliant manoeuvring of the situation with Harry.

And then…the evil calculating genius that is Draco Malfoy realised: they never really played Quidditch.


A/N: As the Draco-adapted Muggle saying goes, "It ain't over until the hot blonde wizard wins". Heh heh…More to come!