Kiss to kill

Problem one

Harry James  Potter had many problems in his life, but the worst one was five foot nine tall, had bleached blond hair, and contained the charisma level of a constipated rat. 

You wouldn't think a boy willingly carrying the hairdo of an overpriced Ken doll could be the reason you desperately need therapy, but Draco Malfoy was terribly clever and as result of said fact, continued to be an absolute ponce as well as an absolute problem. 

"Watch it Potter!"

The words are spat his way right before a bony shoulder knocks into him. Harry's back clatters against the lockers. A metallic echo resounds through the hallway along with the laughter of Pansy Parkinson. Harry only registers her crow like hair gleaming in the sun before both she and Malfoy disappear behind the corner. Harry grumbles in himself as he glares daggers at their retreating backs.

This first hour of the day Harry apparently isn't even worth the effort of tormenting properly. The lure of having him scrambling on the floor doesn't measure up against the reprimands Malfoy will surely receive if he steps into miss Deleroy's classroom a minute later than he's supposed to. Harry knows that, if there is anything that Malfoy embodies with mind and soul, it definitely is a kiss-ass. 

Every time Malfoy opens his bratty mouth to answer miss Deleroy's questions or bats his white eyelashes at her, she's already gushing about what an exemplary student he is. Then he turns around at Harry to give him a grin that could eat him alive. Of course it doesn't really help that every table and every chair pasted with chewing gum this God damn school owns was once bought by dirty Malfoy cash. 

The ticking of Pansy's heels quickly fades away. Harry rubs over his sour shoulder with a wince. 

"Geez you alright Harry?"

Harry turns to see the concerned creases in Neville's face. He has been Harry's friend ever since he fell over the doorstep of kindergarten. While the other kid's had laughed, Harry had helped him back up. No one needed to tell him what it was like to have people laughing at you when you were already down.

Neville is what people consider a softie. It probably doesn't do him any good that at fifteen his face still has about the roughness of a soft cooked egg. 

Like a lost puppy Neville had continued to trail behind Harry as if he were his second shadow and from then on, it hadn't really ever stopped. 

"I'm splendid. Nothing like seeing that git's face to start the day right," Harry bit out. 

"Just ignore him."

"I would if he didn't need the entire width of the hallway to fit him and his ego through."

Neville gave him a lopsided smile; "as if it could fit in this hallway."

The grin harry shot him back was contagious.

"Please, it's bigger than my cousin Dudley's ass."

They both burst out in laughter, continuing their way towards miss Deleroy's class.

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Hi everyone never thought I would be back on this account but I'm trying to practice my writing/English a little bit so I feel like just creating something and just enjoying the proces.

Lots of people asked me several years ago to write an AU about Harry and Draco. I know that was like five or six years ago but euhm... beter late than never?

Anyways, welcome back! :)