Harry was in love with Jenna Jackson. 

That was something he could never deny, not when her long black hair was cascading down her shoulders, not when her sparkling blue eyes viewed the world before her. Not when her short tan legs were politely pressed together, because she was a lady. Not when she wore loose white blouses and short shorts.  Not when her fingers tightened on her pencil because she was focused so hard, not when her smile was so perfect and exact, not when her makeup skills flawlessly created her face. Not when her laugh sounded light and soft, as it was always quiet, not when she refused to curse because it was unladylike. 

Harry was in love with Jenna Jackson. 

And Jenna Jackson fucking knew it. 

She spent freshman year pretending Harry didn’t exist, even though the boy smiled at her when she looked his way, even though he grabbed her pencils when they fell and brought papers to her so she didn’t have to stand. 

Even though Harry Potter was the sweetest person ever, and so clearly in love with her, she ignored him. 

Sophomore year, she smiled back for the first time. And Harry almost fell over. 

He loved her small, perfect smile. 

She said thank you when he brought her things, and asked him to get her stuff. 

Of course, poor lovestruck Harry complied. He brought her coffees everyday, and jewelry when he could afford it. 

She gave him quick “thanks” and brief smiles. 

Ron told him she wasn’t worth it, that Jenna was using him. 

Harry was blinded by flashy jewelry and black hair and illuminating blue eyes. 

Junior year, Harry asked Jenna on a date. She made a strange expression and gave an excuse, along the lines of “something else to do” and “sorry”. 

Harry smiled brightly and said “maybe next time” because he knew better than to push people. 

But she kept rejecting him, and Harry kept falling harder and harder, and what was he supposed to do?

Jenna was pristine perfection. 

And Harry didn’t know what to do; how could he make this perfect girl love him back?

Jenna Jackson was destroying Harry Potter. 

Senior year, The Boy came to their school. 

His name was Draco Malfoy. He had moved here for his last year of high school. 

Rumors swirled the boy. Some said he had gotten kicked out of his last school because he got in a fight. Some said he blew up a car. Others whispered that he had blackmailed the principal and gotten caught. 

The Boy intrigued Harry. 

He was the exact opposite of Jenna. He had naturally curly blonde hair that he sometimes bothered to straighten. He had warm grey eyes that flashed with anger when someone irritated him. He had long legs that were constantly resting on his desk, crossed at the ankle. His fingers idly drummed the surface of his desk as he watched the clock, waiting for class to be over. His smile was rare and bright and slightly crooked. He had a light dusting of freckles across his face. His laugh was rarer than his smile, but on the rare occasions it was heard, it was loud and full of life and bright and happy. He cursed loudly whenever he wanted to, and no one dared to stop him. 

He was the opposite of Jenna, and Harry hated him. 

He hated that the boy was so loud, he hated that the boy was always talking to Harry, he hated how rude he was, he hated everything about the boy. 

But this boy was so different from everyone at their school. He was the only one who talked back to teacher, the only one who didn’t do the homework, the only one who flirted with everyone, girls and guys. 

And the only one who talked back to Jenna Jackson. 

Harry had brought Jenna coffee again. She flashed him a brief smile and went back to talking to her friends. 

Harry's shoulders sank, and he started to walk away. 

“Don’t be a bitch, Jackson,” Draco's voice commented from his seat two spots over. 

Her black hair flew as she whipped her head around. 

“The hell did you just say to me, Malfoy?”

Draco's head slowly turned to face her, and Harry almost gasped at the amount of coldness in the normally warm grey eyes. 

“I said,” Draco mocked, his expression annoyed. “don’t be a bitch, Jackson. Can you not hear, or can you just specifically not hear me?”

“That’s not a thing!” Jenna cried. 

“It’s called selective hearing,” Harry muttered. 

“You’re not helping, Jeremy!” Jenna cried. 

Draco and Harry both stared at her, incredulous expressions on their faces. Draco started cracking up. 

“His name is Harry, you god-forsaken whore!” he laughed. 

“How do you even know that?” Jenna mocked, a blush staining her cheeks. “Does Dray have a little crush?”

Draco smirked. “You do realize, you have the school’s hottest guy chasing after you, and you toss him aside like yesterday’s trash? He’s hot, cute, sweet, and funny. But you wouldn’t know that, Jenna, would you? Seeing as you don’t even know his name. So yeah, you could call it a little crush. But I’d say it’s a little more.”

Harry froze. Draco liked him?

Jenna snorted. “Wow, Dray, making moves on a taken man.”

Harry froze. 

“Taken?” him and Draco simultaneously asked. 

“Of course,” Jenna said. “You’re my boyfriend, Harry.”

“But you didn’t even ask me...” Harry mumbled. 

“Boyfriend?” Draco choked out. “Boyfriend? You didn’t know his name until two minutes ago! You treat him like shit! Do you even know that his favorite color is blue? Do you know he loves lions? Do you know his favorite shirt was the blue one you spilled coffee on three days ago?”

Jenna glared at him, but Harry's mind was spinning. 

“Yeah, well he’s freaking in love with me, and I can do whatever I want!” she shouted. 

Draco stood, marching up to her desk, fists balled. 

“You wouldn’t hit a girl,” Jenna said smirking. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You must’ve heard the stories, Jackson. I don't hit girls, but I’m not afraid to hit a two-faced cunt.”

She made a strangled noise at the name. 

“Harry, do something!” she cried. “What kind of boyfriend are you?”

Harry slowly lifted his head. 

“I’m not your boyfriend,” he whispered. 

“What did you say?” she screeched. 

“I’m not your boyfriend,” Harry repeated loudly. “You treat me like shit, you’re fake as hell, you used me, you only considered me a boyfriend when it got you further in an argument, you’re so boring, and you’re a bitch.”

Jenna’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish, and Draco was cracking up. 

“Harry!” she shrieked. “Take it back!”

“I don’t think you’re my type,” Harry muttered. 

“But you love me!” she protested. 

“I think you might be the wrong gender to be my type,” Harry replied, his eyes drifting towards Draco, the boy who had stood up for him when no one else would. 

She screeched. “But you’re in love with me!”

“When are you gonna get it through your head that I don’t like you? I was obsessed with the idea of you, not you as a person! I don’t like you!” Harry cried. 

She stood, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 

Draco made a sound like a dying mouse, and Harry made a surprised squeak. 

Her lips were dry, and there was no feeling in the kiss but desperation. 

Harry pulled away from the kiss, and right in front of her, wiped his mouth with his hand. 

“Never do that again,” he said. 

“You loved that kiss,” she hissed. 

Harry inhaled, annoyed. She wasn’t understanding. 

“Draco,” he acknowledged the blonde. “Can I kiss you?”

Draco choked. “Wh- I mean.. um, yeah?”

Harry walked toward him, wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s shoulders, and kissed him. 

Draco's lips were warm and soft, and after a moment’s hesitation, kissing back.

Harry pulled away softly, dropping his arms and turning to a shocked Jenna, leaving Draco standing there, frozen. 

“No Jenna,” he said. “I loved that kiss.”

Jenna screeched, and Draco almost fell over laughing.