"Come on, Harry!"

I don't know why Hermione is dragging me along like this. I'd rather be in bed, wallowing in my own misery. It's strange that Draco and I have been together for such a short amount of time, yet he can affect me in this way. I have never felt so strongly for anyone.

"Where are we going?" I demand. I give Hermione as pathetic face as I can manage, hoping she'll get the hint and leave me alone.

"The library," she says. "I need your help with something."

Now, that's something new. Hermione is far brighter than me. What could she possibly need my help with in the library? By the time we enter the room my suspicions are mounting.

I see them before they notices us. Draco and Pansy Parkinson are sitting at a table in the back of the library. Well, actually, Pansy is sitting. Draco is trying to get up, and make a run for it, but Pansy keeps grabbing his robes and pulling him back. He turns to her and waves his arms around in a few angry gestures. She laughs, and his shoulders heave in frustration and repressed anger.

I stop walking about half-way across the library. Hermione rolls her eyes and takes my hand. "Come on, Harry," she says firmly.

She tugs hard on my arm, making me lose my balance, and before I can stop myself I am stumbling after her. She deposits me unceremoniously in the chair opposite Draco, who sneers and tries to get up again. Pansy grabs his robes, and he slumps into the chair with an indignant grunt.

Pansy and Hermione give each other a look that tells me they had this all planned out. Since when do Slytherins and Gryffindors plot together? I wonder. Then I realize, about the same time Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy can fall in love.

Love. Why does that word keep coming up?

Draco shifts his attention from Pansy to me, and I shift uncomfortably under his cold gaze.

"What are you doing here?" he drawls, as if there hadn't been anything between us at all.

This frustrates me, and before I can stop myself, I say, "You're a foul git, you know that?"

Pansy raises an eyebrow interestedly. "What did you do to him, Draco?"

"Nothing! He's the one who told everyone about us!" I notice that Draco doesn't sound as angry as I do, but I decide he's just acting the part of an emotionless Slytherin.

"You hit me!" I point out. "And besides, it just slipped. I was happy, for the first time in a long time!"

Draco's eyes widen, as if he wasn't expecting such a confession.

"I was too," he admits. "But I didn't go blurting it out the first chance I got. You're so transparent it's pathetic, Potter."

Pansy choses this moment to jab Draco in the side with her elbow. "I don't believe you hit him!"

Draco scowls at her. I realize this is pointless, and stalk away.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione calls after me, but I ignore her.

After a moment, I feel a hand on my arm. I stop and grab my wand. I turn to face Pansy.

"That's entirely unlike Draco to hit someone," she says "I apologize for him, as when he's in his right mind, he'd hex you instead."

"That's not comforting at all, Parkinson," I say.

She sighs dramatically. "What I'm trying to point out is, you're the only one who can get to Draco like that. You make him lose his poise, the facade he's spent so much time creating for all of us. I've known him our whole lives, and I've never seen him allow himself to be so affected by anyone but you, whether you're fighting or shagging."

I'm not sure how to respond to that. I look at her skeptically.

"He hit me."

"He shouldn't have, and he regrets it."

"I'd rather hear him say that himself."

Pansy laughs. "Then you'll be waiting a long time. Draco doesn't apologize for anything."

I throw a glance in Draco's direction. Draco is staring back at me, and Hermione is trying to talk to him, but she can't seem to hold his attention. Finally, Draco snaps at Hermione. He glares at her and says something that Pansy an I can't hear from this distance. Hermione's eyes widen, and she seems to have lost the ability to speak for the moment.

Draco saunters across the library. He grabs my hand and pulls him close. "You look sexy when you're angry," he says in a low, seductive voice.

I attempt to stutter a reply, but Draco presses a quick kiss to my lips, cutting off the words. He tugs on my hand, and we rush out of the library, away from the prying eyes of Hermione, Pansy, and the other students.


We stumble into Draco's dormitory, unable to keep our hands and lips off of each other. Goyle looks up from his parchment, shocked. It's odd to see Goyle doing homework, but I don't take the time to dwell on it. Draco is filling my senses.

"Out!" Draco demands.

Goyle quickly grabs the stuff he's working on and exits the room. He looks like he wants to say something, but knows better than to oppose Draco.

We quickly discard our clothes, kissing and groping the whole time. Draco pushes me back on the bed. He nips at the tip of my erection, then moves up my body, leaving zealous kisses along my skin.

I roll us over so I'm on top. This time I want the control, and Draco doesn't seem to be protesting.

"Fuck me, Harry."

I shiver. When he makes requests in that hoarse, lusty voice, I can't deny him anything.

He hands me a bottle of lube, and I fumble with it for a moment. Finally, I manage to spread the slick substance on my fingers and erect cock. He spreads his legs, and I touch his opening, almost reverently.

"You're a tease, get on with it, Pot--Harry," he accuses, but there is affection in his voice.

For once, I'm in a position to smirk.

The sex is fast and rough, and amazing. He is tight and wet around me, and the sounds Draco makes are enough to drive me over the edge.

Afterwards, we lay contentedly in his bed. Draco looks quite proud of himself.

Suddenly he says, "If the make-up sex is going to be this good, maybe we should fight more often?"

I hit him playfully on the arm. "My nerves can't take that, git!"

I stroke Draco's chest lovingly, fingers teasing his nipples lightly.

"So about what you said yesterday…" I begin

"What did I say?" Draco asks. He looks so content.

"You said you love me," I say, suddenly nervous.

There is a pause, during which Draco's brow furrows in concentration. "Oh, right," he says finally. "Look, we can slow things up a bit, if you want."

"No, I um… I think that… I love you too," I stumble over the words. I feel my cheeks grow warm, and I know that I'm blushing again.

A small smile plays on Draco's lips. "Are you sure about that? I thought I was a foul git, Potter."

"Oh, so now you're back to calling me Potter?"

"Sorry, Harry. Look, you mean a lot to me. But I need your… well, what happened the other day won't happen again, okay? So, I need to know it's forgotten."

I suppose that's his way of apologizing.

"It's forgotten," I say.

I shouldn't, but I want to make this work. I've never felt so complete as I do when I'm with him, and I don't want to lose Draco.