Chapter 11

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Harry was strongly reminded of the staring contests that he and Dudley would sometimes engage in when they were children and irrationally, he found himself just as unwilling to be the one to look away first. 

Malfoy sat, arms tucked tightly across his chest, legs crossed and one foot tapping against the leg of his chair. He glared heatedly back at Harry, somehow cluing into the point of the Muggle game, and refused to break eye contact.

There had been no impromptu snogging this time. Mason had said that they could do whatever they wanted, and Draco had made it clear that he did not want a repeat of their last lesson together.

Clearing his throat loudly, Harry watched Draco give a little jerk of surprise, and opened his mouth to speak.

"So, er... Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw next week. Who do you think will win?"

Draco glared at him suspiciously for a few moments, before asking, "What is this, Potter?"

"It's called small talk, Malfoy," Harry responded. "I figured that since we'll be spending quite a bit of time together-"

"No, we won't," Draco fired back. "We will be attending class, shagging when required, and leaving. After the year is over, I don't plan on spending another minute in your presence, if at all possible."

"What about what Mason said? About partners becoming attached to one another?"

Draco scoffed. "And how do you think that'll work? What with my working for the wizard that wants to kill you, and all."

"Do you mean that?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course I do," Draco told him firmly. "And I don't care that you know, either. As far as I'm concerned, you can go running to McGonagall and tattle on me if you like. I've toyed with the idea of leaving school early, anyway. In fact, why don't you go right now? If they kick me out, it'll save me from having to snog you anymore."

"I can't believe you're still planning on being a Death Eater. Not after all we've-"

"What? So we're boyfriends, now?" Draco interrupted. His voice was high, and his cheeks were beginning to tinge pink. "I'm supposed to give up my future because I've snogged the Boy Who Lived a few times?"

Harry shook his head and looked away. "Whatever, Malfoy. Can we just go back to not talking, please?"

"Fine by me, Potter." 

Draco crossed his arms over his chest again and huffed angrily. Harry caught him giving him furtive glances from the corner of his eyes, and wondered if Malfoy was perhaps gauging his reaction to this little revelation. Harry sighed and sank deeper into his chair, ignoring Malfoy entirely. He wasn't surprised by the news that Draco still planned to become a Death Eater, but it was discouraging nonetheless. He would have to, as Dumbledore put it, turn him.

The only problem that remained was how, though Harry thought he had an idea. And so, he decided, tomorrow would mark the beginning of his seduction of Draco Malfoy.

***

It was impossible to sleep that night, with his brain running through a list of ideas for how to bring Malfoy over to the right side that was more conductive to wanking than sleep. The next night Ron's snores and Harry's impatience reached a crescendo, and Harry, hollow-eyed and grumpy, snatched up his Invisibility Cloak with more force than was necessary and went for a walk.

Without meaning to, Harry had blearily made his way to the seventh floor corridor. He ran his fingers along the stone wall, visibly swaying with exhaustion, and his fingertips encountered a familiar doorknob. Looking up, he saw the door to the Room of Requirement, already manifested. It was enough to startle him awake.

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