Cheers, Potter.

Definitely.

Draco's POV

"I really wish you hadn't done that," I said, breathless, once we'd parted. I hadn't meant it to terrify him, the poor sod, but it seemed to have that effect any way. His face went pale and he suddenly couldn't make eye contact which made me feel tremendously guilty but ever so slightly amused.

"Oh, sorry..." was Harry's timid reply; partnered with almost an unnoticeable recoil it was nearly heart-breaking.

"Not because I didn't want you to do I,!" I attempted to reassure him hurriedly, and probably with a little too much gusto to be beneficial to my reputation, "it's just that now people will talk."

"Sweetie, we've been talking for years," Hermione grinned as her slightly green - and uncomfortable-looking-boyfriend offered her a handful of galleons.

So that was how it was. I was standing in the Great Hall surrounded by people I'd been trying to go unnoticed by, having just been confronted by the Wizarding Messiah, my face a bruised wreck, lip split and my blood on Harry sodding Potter's lips... hoping that we were not making a scene. As a professional Drama Queen, I'd have to say that in my expert opinion, we were indeed making a scene. The only way I could think of to make it better was to get out and in a moment of idiocy, not wanting Potter to get all weird about upsetting me, I dragged him out too.

"Well," he started once we were safely away, at least two corridors over, "now people will definitely talk."

"Shut up, it's your fault," I said pulling my sleeves over my hands and tucking them under my arms.

"Your lip is bleeding still," he said bringing out his wand and pointing it at my face and I instinctively ducked.

"Watch where you're pointing that, you'll take someone's eye out!" I protested but he just laid his hand on my neck, holding me still.

"Shut up and stay still, Malfoy." He said before quickly casting the Episkey charm to heal it over again.

It was strangely intimate; I felt vulnerable and exposed in a way that I hadn't in a long time. How was he allowed to have this effect on me? All he had to do was be nice and I got weak in the knees, and when he wasn't nice... well, that was another feeling entirely, but given that I was raised conservative, I would never let those thoughts materialise, even if only in my head.

I gulped audibly, making me loathe myself for a second before I tried to cover it with a weak cough.

"You're welcome," the green-eyed boy filled the silence.

"I'm not thanking you for fixing my lip when you were the one that split it," I liked saying that - knowing that he'd been the one to split my lip, not in violence but in lusty desperation, "You still have blood on your lip."

I cleared it away with my thumb before he could do it himself; I wanted him to feel as vulnerable as I did. It backfired. He licked the tip of my thumb and laughed at my obvious disgust as I drew away from him, frowning.

"Why must you ruin things, Potter?" I spat venomously, more than a little vexed, not least because we were no longer in close proximity.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted you to squirm," he gave me a wickedly handsome grin and pulled me closer by my lapels, snatching the air from my lungs.

Merlin, he smelled good, of pine needles and cold, like he'd just come in from being outside for a long time. His body was warm though; heat radiated from him like a bonfire and seeped through me, all at once calming my nerves and sending them into frenzy. He hadn't let go of my robes and I was suddenly very aware of my hands around his waist... it was rapidly getting more difficult to breathe.