HP and Hermione's Insatiable Appetite for Quidditch Players

The next few days dragged on in a very strange manner. Harry became more and more keen on the idea that he himself had pitched to Hermione, and the two of them began to plan for the event. They soon realized how hard it was to keep from Ron, however. Whenever the three would pass Malfoy in the hall, he would sneer but never say anything. But when Ron wasn't looking, he would blow kisses and wink.

Pretty soon, Harry started to enjoy the extra attention payed to him by Malfoy. He often found himself staring at Malfoy's glittering hair in Potions, much to the amusement of Snape, who would give Harry weird looks when he stared at Malfoy. They would brush by each other in the halls, never making eye contact, but smiling all the same. Crabbe and Goyle even seemed to lay off the bullying, instead giving Harry and Hermione a curt nod in the halls.

Ron, who was not stupid, began to wonder what was going on. "What the hell do you think's wrong with Malfoy these days?" he asked one day in Transfiguration. "He doesn't abuse us as much anymore. In fact, he doesn't abuse us at all." Harry and Hermione cast apprehensive glances at each other.

"Ummm... I think that Professor McGonagall straightened him out, or something." Hermione lied, casting a glance at the Professor herself, who was instructing Neville on how to turn a toad into a magical mushroom.

Ron sat silently, thinking about this for a while. "Oh. Okay!" he said, proceeding to roll up some of his own magical mushroom in a zigzag paper, licking the edges. "So what are we doing on Friday night?" Ron asked, lighting the blunt using his wand.

Harry and Hermione cast another glance at one another. "Um. Professor Snape gave the both of us detention the other night, so we won't be around," Harry said quickly.

"Yes, that's right," said Hermione. "We were, uh, being too loud in Potions, and we have detention on Friday night."

Ron, drawing in a deep breath of mushroom smoke, said, "I don't remember you getting detention. Where was I?"

Harry, thinking quickly made up a story. "You were... in the lavatories. Drinking some Fire whiskey."

Ron didn't look surprised. "Yes, I probably was," he mused, his eyes glazing over. "Do either of you have any milk?"

Hermione verified with Malfoy that Friday night was the night. Malfoy said that all was cool, they should only tell him the place and the time. "So, where are we going to... meet?" asked Hermione, looking expectantly at Harry.

"Hum, how about the Room of Requirements?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, ever since we told all those people about it during last year, now Ginny and her friends all go and sniff floo powder in there."

Harry was suddenly struck with an idea. "Hey, how about an empty classroom? Goodness knows there's plenty of them around here."

Hermione regarded him and said, "Okay, but we are using every locking charm imaginable to man to close that door."

Friday came, fast and loose like a ten-sickle hooker. Harry went to his classes, carefully avoiding Malfoy's gaze all day. He was sort of jealous that Hermione and Malfoy were in love. In fact, if Harry had it his way, Hermione wouldn't even be coming with them. But he remembered that he had never slept with her, and seeing as how he was the last house player left to conquer he decided to let her sleep with him, as a favor. Hermione, however, claimed that the disease was subsiding. " I don't think I love him anymore," she said to him on their way to the classroom on Friday night. "But he is one nice piece of ass. And besides, he's an okay guy now, and he might still be in love with me!"

The both of them had a hard time throwing Ron off. Earlier that day, Ron had found a poem that Harry had written about Malfoy. It went something like this.

You are so beautiful

To me, can't you see?

I didn't think I could possibly

Feel

This way.

But only because you are

So incredible

Do I feel as if I would

Fall.

And die.

For you.

When Ron approached Harry about the poem, Harry lied and said that he had written it about a pretty girl he had seen in the hall, to which Ron questioned him endlessly until Hermione claimed that they had to go for their detention.

They now stood together outside the empty classroom they had agreed on, and were about to enter. Malfoy was already inside, sitting on the ground, his robes on the floor and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His blonde hair fell into his face, ungelled. He looked positively hot. It was almost totally dark in the classroom, and Malfoy said, "Well, if it isn't my two best friends...with benefits? Potter and Granger; do come in." Harry's head spun at the sound of Malfoy calling him a friend (nonetheless one with benefits).

"Granger, I must tell you. I don't really love you anymore. I love Harry now." Harry's hair stood up on end. He had never heard Malfoy call him- Harry. Just Potter. Maybe he should start calling Malfoy- Draco. Harry's eyes widened at the prospect of -Draco and him becoming lovers.

"But that still doesn't mean that you can't join us!" He leapt to his feet quite gracefully, taking both of their hands in his own. Draco smirked and looked deeply into his eyes, foretelling what he wanted to do to Harry.

He also looked at Hermione, who looked happy as well. She was smiling, and her eyes were darting back and forth between Harry and Draco. "Actually, boys, I would love to stay, but I just remembered that I wanted to finish some extra credit for... well, I just want to do some extra credit. So, I'm going to go..."

Draco nodded and said "Uh, thanks... Hermione, that's awfully nice of you." Draco's eyes met Harry's once more, and he suddenly proclaimed, "Muggle contraceptives! We don't want diseases, don't you know. I'll go get some, you stay here Pot- Uh, Harry." And Harry knew his eyes weren't deceiving him when Draco gave him a strangely vulnerable look and strode out of the room.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Hermione, I'm kind of scared to be alone with him. Seeing as how I used to hate him, you know."

Hermione looked at him with knowing eyes. "I know, Harry. I think this whole situation is kind of weird. But it fits, too. You and Malfoy have been enemies for as long as I've known you, but there's also an intense heat around the outside of you two, especially when you show love for each other."

Harry regarded Hermione with an apprehensive gaze. "Do you er- really think that he- uh... loves me?"

Hermione looked at him with a smile. "If he does, he's had a very strange way of showing it for the past six years. And Harry, I know you're worried and you probably think it's wrong to love another man in- well, in that way, but it just doesn't matter. Because it fits. You know it does. And even if you don't love him yet, you certainly do fancy him, even Ron has been able to see that."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Ron? But Hermione, Ron's been-"

"Harry. Ron's not dumb. He's seen you looking at Malfoy for the past week or so. Plus, you did title that poem you wrote Ode to Malfoy, which was kind of a giveaway. He doesn't care, Harry. He just wants you to be happy.

"And speaking of what Ron wants, I've been thinking about it for quite some time, and... I think I fancy him, as well. Plus he does play quidditch, kind of. So I think I will invite him to another classroom tonight..." she said, looking around the room they stood in, which was slowly growing darker.

Harry was happy for Ron and Hermione, and he knew that everything would work itself out in the end. "Well, I best be going to get Ron before Malfoy comes back..."She walked toward the door, but before she left, she turned on her heel and looked back at him. "Oh, and Harry. He's good. I mean, really good." She raised her eyebrows and closed the door behind her, leaving Harry smiling in the darkness.

Two minutes later, the door opened and closed. Harry turned toward the figure that stood still in front of the door. All was darkness, but Harry knew what to do. He moved toward the figure and stood, wordless, for a few seconds.

Harry apprehensively slipped his arm around Draco's waist, and Draco responded by standing rigid. He pressed his lips to Draco's thin, closed, chapped lips. Harry put his free hand on Draco's face and felt Draco's long, hook nose, Draco's sandpaper skin, and ran his hands through Draco's long, greasy hair...