Disclaimer: This chapter features quotes directly from JK Rowling's book - 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'. I do not claim to have created these lines. All rights and copyrights are JK Rowlings.

"How's your hand?" Draco's voice was filled with sympathy as he walked over from where he had been sitting on the sofa. He reached Harry just at the entrance to the Guest Room.

"You ssmell like blood," Manimi observed.

"That's most likely because I'm bleeding," Harry replied shortly.

"Alright, no need to get yourself in a twist," Manimi replied evenly. "I was just ssaying."

It was late; Harry had just finished his final detention with The Umbitch (as Fred and George had taken to calling her), and his hand was stinging all over. Honestly, though, Harry was too tired and emotionally exhausted by everything that was going on to really care about the pain anymore. Regardless, Draco gently examined the torn skin before walking back to where his schoolbag was leaning against the writing desk, opening it, and returning with a small, dragonfly-blue phial.

"Here, come sit down, and I'll see what I can do," Draco beckoned him over to the sofa and produced some cotton pads from his sleeve as Harry sat down. He poured the liquid from the phial over one of the pads and then gently pressed the soaked cotton to Harry's skin. The relief was so great that Harry actually moaned.

"What was that, Potter?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Draco, I love you," Harry laughed, with his eyes closed in bliss.

They sat in silence for a minute, not needing to speak to be comfortable in each other's company, until Draco broke the silence.

"That woman is totally crooked," He said angrily, examining the vicious cut on Harry's hand.

"If it means you'll look after me like this, I won't complain." laughed Harry, but Draco didn't smile.

"I mean, it's definitely illegal to do this, but she's got the whole ministry on her side. Who can we go to?"

"Jesus, hessss really obsessed with this," Manimi hissed in exasperation.

"I know. But it's kind of sweet when he get's all angry so I don't mind," Harry hissed in return. He turned to see Draco staring at his lips, though he quickly looked away when Harry noticed.

"Draco, control yourself," He laughed.

"Shut up," Draco admonished, blushing. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying how cute it is when you get all angry on my behalf,"

Draco blushed even deeper and concentrated on Harry's hand much harder than he needed to.

After there had been a brief pause, Harry took a deep breath and decided to broach the subject that had been nagging at his mind for a while now. "You've been getting pretty chummy with Umbridge recently, I've noticed," he observed.

Draco looked at him with a guarded expression. "Everyone in my house is chumming up to her. It would look seriously odd if I didn't join in."

Harry looked down at the sofa, not replying. Draco sighed.

"Harry, you know I hate her really. But sometimes, you just have to act. Sometimes there isn't a choice."

Harry looked at Draco, right into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, and took his hand, not caring if the cut began to sting again.

"One day," He stated firmly, "I promise you, one day I will make sure you never have to pretend anymore- we will never have to pretend. And I'll take you out to dinner in public and we'll go on dates and hold hands like normal people. I promise you, Draco."

Draco just smiled at him sadly and gave him a quick kiss before going back to concentrating on Harry's hand. It wasn't that he didn't believe Harry, nothing like that- he knew that Harry meant what he said. It was just that Draco had lived through enough pain to know that people can't always keep their promise, no matter how much they want to.

0o0oHarry0o0o

"I have news," Harry stated, as he and Draco worked together over a steaming cauldron.

"What's up?"

"Two things. One - I've had a... thing"

Draco turned and looked at him, one eyebrow perfectly raised. "How incredibly literate you are, Potter."

"Shut up, I'm trying to find the right word," Harry spat irritably. "I... I felt something yesterday..."

Draco grinned. "Was it like a sneeze, but better?"

Harry hit him with his potions textbook. Snape then walked over and hit Harry with his.

"Ow!" Harry yelped, watching mutinously as Snape billowed back to his desk, then turned swiftly back to Draco. "Bloody hell, I'm trying to tell you something important here!" He lowered his voice to the point that Draco had to hold his breath to hear it. "I felt a flash of Voldemort last night."

Draco looked about as shocked as Harry had felt when the flood of Voldemort's emotions had run through his own body.

"That shut you up, didn't it?" Harry huffed.

"Shut up and tell me what happened."

"I got feelings. Anger, mostly."

Draco swallowed. "Sorry for being an idiot. I didn't realise it was so serious."

Harry nodded. "I would have told you about it tonight, but that's the other thing I needed to say. I can't get to the guest room." Harry, lowered his voice, if possible, even further now. "You know, obviously, that DADA is totally shite now that Umbridge is in charge."

"Obviously,"

"Well, Hermione's convinced me to start teaching a defence class secretly-"

"What?!" Draco yelled, which earned then some strange looks. He hastily covered up, "-Are you doing talking to me, Potter?! God knows you're going to balls up this potion if you don't concentrate!"

The rest of the Slytherins, seeming satisfied with this, turned away again. Blaise let out a snort before going back to his potion.

"Good one, Malfoy," Harry said sarcastically, "Good save."

"Sorry," Draco whispered, "but- well... Don't you think that's a bit of a stupid idea? Imagine if you get caught! Please don't do this, Harry!"

"We won't get caught because you will let me know whenever Umbridge is coming. You're in with her gang, right? You tell me if she's coming and we'll scatter."

"How," Draco asked, irritably, "Am I going to do that?"

Harry shrugged. "we'll think of something. The first meeting's tonight, I'm sure it will be fine if you can't tell us yet, because Umbridge hasn't heard anything about it yet. But we'll have to think of something soon."

Draco looked heavenwards. "Merlin, I should have listened to my mum!"

Harry looked at him in surprise. "What did your mum say?"

"I don't know, I didn't listen! But I bet it would be something along the lines of, 'Now, Draco, try not to do anything that would make powerful people hate you!'"

Harry laughed. "You'll be fine. You're just a drama queen."

Draco looked at him. "No drama," he corrected, "I'm just a queen."

0o0oHarry0o0o

"We won, Harry, we won!" Angelina said excitedly, sounding overjoyed despite glaring angrily at Crabbe. The long-awaited Quidditch match had just ended with Harry catching the snitch and being hit with a bludger... at the same time. But they'd won, that was what mattered. Harry was just about to go to reply when he heard a noise behind him, and turned around.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" Draco sneered. Shock flooded Harry's mind as he realised Draco looked positively ugly with anger. "I've never seen a worse keeper... but then he was born in a bin... did you like the lyrics, Potter?"

Harry couldn't believe Draco was actually saying this. He knew that his boyfriend was competitive but this was too far, even if they had lost a big game. Trying not to get angry, Harry turned around to the rest of his teammates, who were all cheering and celebrating - except for Ron, who was walking defeatedly back to the changing rooms by himself.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses," Draco continued, loudly enough for Ron to hear, "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to talk about his mother, see -"

"Talk about sour grapes," Angelina said in disgust.

"-We couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know -"

Fred and George had, by this point, realised what Draco was saying. Stiffening, they turned to look at him, both turning red in anger.

"Leave it," Angelina said quickly, gently taking Fred's arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped up little-"

"- But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" Draco was still saying, and Harry turned to stare at him in shock. Was he seriously going to bring him into this? As he caught Draco's eyes, he realised that they had gone completely blank, emotionless, and cold. Fear made Harry's heart beat out of time.

"Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay-"

Harry had to grab George to restrain him, while Angelina, Alicia and Katie all struggled to stop Fred from leaping on Draco, who was laughing. Not his normal laugh - the one which made Harry's heart melt - but a terrible ghost of a laugh which sounded sad, not happy. Beside him, Goyle egged him on, chuckling stupidly, and whispering something in Draco's ear.

"Or perhaps," Draco said, more quietly now, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it -"

Harry didn't realise that he had let go of George. He wasn't even aware of his legs running beneath him. All he knew was that he wanted to hurt Malfoy in any way he possibly could, to make him feel the same as he had made Harry feel when he'd spoken those words.

No time to draw a wand, he just pulled back the fist clutching the snitch and sunk it into Malfoy's stomach, right over his stupid scar-

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!"

He could hear girls screaming, and Malfoy yelling in pain, and George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around him, and he did not care. Not until somebody in the vicinity screeched 'impedimenta!' and he was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.