One Evening in June

"Here for a fly, Potter?"

Harry cursed as he turned around to find none other than Draco Malfoy standing a few feet back, casually leaning against the Quidditch shed. He was smirking, the way he always seemed to do. The dark night brought highlights to that naturally silver-blonde hair. Harry shook his head.

"None of your damn business, Malfoy," he said brusquely, swivelling away from his nemesis and stomping out to the middle of the pitch. Before he could mount his broom, however, he saw the Slytherin walking calmly across the pitch to where he was standing.

"What do you want?" Harry yelled, now just angry. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the approaching Slytherin.

"I guess you have to practice in the middle of the night to be good enough for the team?" Malfoy drawled.

"Yeah, that's it," Harry replied. "And you, staring at the pitch longingly, wishing you were good enough to win sometime."

"Shut it, Potter," hissed Malfoy.

"Whatever, I'm just here to fly, I don't need your bullshit," Harry told the other boy, pocketing his wand and turning away, preparing to take off on his Firebolt. Feeling a great tug on his broom, it fell out of his hands and onto the ground with a dull thump on the grass. Harry turned around.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked Harry loudly, the anger and hate blazing in his emerald-green eyes.

Those beautiful green eyes, thought Draco. Pity they're wasted on someone like him. He's so sexy when he's angry, though.

"The Firebolt, your pride and joy. It's too bad such a good broom is wasted on someone like you. Maybe that's the only reason you're any good..."

"Or maybe, I just happen to be good. Ever thought of that?" Harry asked. "I know 'talent' is a foreign concept to you, but some people do have it. Get used to it."

Harry paused in thought. He wasn't sure why he hadn't hexed the other boy yet, but felt he wanted to say his piece.

"Oh, no, hang on, I get it." Harry laughed. "You don't know 'talent'; you know 'My daddy buys me whatever I want. He throws his filthy money at people to make things better.'"

This last part was said in a mocking, high-pitched voice that really got to Malfoy.

"Fuck you, Potter. You don't know what you're talking about!"

"And when have you EVER known what you were talking about?" Harry stepped forward until he was an inch from Malfoy's face. "Get out of here, I'm more honourable than you and won't hex you when your back is turned."

The fire in those green eyes made Draco want to do anything but leave. The stupid git standing in front of him could go die for all he cared - but those looks would be so wasted to just have him die...

Surely that was a reason to keep him alive?

"Angry, are you? Just because you don't know the Dark Lord's plan? Is that what's keeping you up at night? Thought you'd come down and fly away your fate?"

Harry grabbed him by the arm in one rough movement. His skin was smooth and Harry fought the urge to run his hand along his arm. Watching those ice-grey eyes dancing in the dark was too much, and he used his hold on Malfoy to shove him away.

"I said get out of here!" Harry snarled, prepared to turn away again.

But Malfoys don't like being ordered around.

"I'll do what I want!" Draco yelled childishly, folding his arms.

"You'll leave!" Harry yelled back, pushing the Slytherin backwards.

Draco stepped forward again, grabbing Harry for balance and instead ended up crashing into him. The result was them on the ground, trying to catch their breath. Draco was half on top of Harry, and when he began to push himself off, he opened his eyes to see a pair of green ones staring back. Devoid of the usual anger and replaced with something else.

Without thinking, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips to the Gryffindor's. He slid his tongue along Harry's lips before the other boy opened his mouth in eagerness. Realizing exactly what he was doing, Draco pulled away quickly in disgust and scrambled to his feet.

Harry got up slower, staring warily at his enemy.

"I hate you!" Malfoy said vehemently. The proclamation was sincere, but there was an edgy desperation hidden deep in his voice.

"I hate you too!" Harry said back, with equal vehemence and sincerity. He grabbed Draco and kissed him again anyway.

"Well, so long as that's settled, then," Draco said smugly, before returning to his newfound passion. It continued for most of the evening until both parties felt it in their best interests to travel back to their four-posters inside the castle.

* * *

It was never discovered just why things transpired the way the way they did. It's true, however, that such activities went on for many months. Whatever became of the pair, who'll ever know, but it was never forgotten that one evening in June, when all the oddities of the world collided, and enemies became, well, stayed enemies - but pushed titles aside for happiness.