Draco was rather pleased with himself. Year after year, he and Potter had had their arguments, rough-housing, his father would call it. Draco preferred to think of it as him kicking Potter's scrawny arse. Year after year, it had started to become tedious, and even Potter was losing interest. He only ever got a rise out of the other boy these days by insulting Granger, and even then only when the Weasel wasn't around to jump in first.
His mind drifted back to the previous week as he sauntered his way to Charms, Potter had been lurking, rather suspiciously, Draco thought, for a Gryffindor in the dungeons (perhaps it had something to do with the Potions class that had just happened, but he discounted that as far too obvious). So he had stopped and asked what the speccy git had been up to, loitering in Slytherin territory. Potter hadn't even bother to reply, just rolled his eyes and walked off to lunch.
Of course, this state of affairs couldn't be allowed to continue. Draco would be the one doing the ignoring, not the other way round, that's if there was any ignoring to be done at any rate. His lip twitched in a scowl as he thought of the Gryffindor's superiority complex.
But that doesn't tell us why Draco was so pleased with himself. Having given up on the traditional methods of annoying the four-eyed orphan, he confronted the boy on his way to the library. He'd lain in wait for hours, thinking it very rude that Potter hadn't shown up immediately, but then, he should have known better than to rely on a Gryffindor to arrive on time (perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Draco hadn't informed him of this meeting, but he dismissed that thought).
Seeing his prey arrive, he'd walked out at precisely the right moment to knock the shorter boy down, books tumbling around him. He had stood above him, smirk in place, and waited for Potter to react. He was not disappointed.
"Malfoy, you git, don't you have anything better to do?" He'd scowled up at the blond boy, adjusting his awful glasses.
Draco just smirked down at him.
"Just shove off and leave me alone!" He'd said, standing up. Draco's lack of reaction seemed to annoy him more than insults had done. "I mean, isn't it enough that I have to study harder than everyone else because I have to defeat Voldemort? Isn't it enough that…" Draco tuned him out, enjoying watching him getting him worked up over nothing. Potter had taken to waving an arm around to try and get his point across.
This had been the moment that Draco had implemented his perfect plan. He hooked an arm around his rival's neck, and snogged him. The boy wasn't completely pants at it, but then again, he'd probably never snogged anyone before in his life, so Draco thought he was doing well despite the disability that was his complete and utter lack of talent with the girls.
Moving away, he smirked at the other boy again, throwing a parting comment over his shoulder.
"Shut up, Potter."
And that had been it! That memory of Potter standing there, mouth hanging open, glasses askew, and blood rushing to his cheeks, that had been the payoff that made it worth it. That'd teach him to ignore Draco Malfoy.
He reached Charms, and was dismayed to see Potter sitting with his friends, staring at the board where Flitwick was writing up the lesson plan, ignoring him completely. Utter prat. He'd have to try harder next time.