When the bruise began to develop under Malfoy's eye, fading dark blue against his pale skin, he lied to everyone and said that he tripped, and Harry was oddly grateful for this.

He knew it sounded an unlikely story - Malfoy walked like a model and would sooner starve than trip - and it was probably just to protect his own dignity as ever, but either way Harry appreciated the lie.

He'd been feeling calmer since the latest confrontation, and hadn't seen Malfoy half as much as he normally did over the past few days, which was a relief. Maybe he'd finally listened and agreed to stop tormenting him. Or maybe he was just cooking up something worse.

In reality, Draco was distant because of an emotion that was previously entirely foreign to him - an inkling of remorse. And it wasn't remorse in the sense that he wished he hadn't done it because he'd been punched, but actual genuine guilt for his actions and the things he'd said. And he hated it.

Pansy and Blaise, however, were endlessly amused when he confided the story to them one day in the Common Room, incessantly desperate for details.

"He tried to kiss me again, the pervert," lied Draco in an airy tone, "And when I pushed him away he shoved me back, and I guess that's how I tripped. I don't really remember it."

His left hand slipped subconsciously up to press against the mark left on his cheekbone, the only sign of his dishonesty. The mark would fit Potter's knuckles precisely.

"This is completely fascinating," Pansy giggled, leaning in as he spoke. "I mean, I just can't believe it worked so beautifully."

"Can't believe what worked?" Draco asked absent-mindedly. His fingers carried on tracing over his bruise.

"Oh, yeah! He never got the hint, Pansy, remember?" Blaise laughed pointedly, and with that he had Draco's attention.

"What hint?" he demanded. "I always get hints."

Pansy and Blaise shook their heads with identically infuriating smiles.

"Sorry, Malfoy, darling," Blaise said mock-sympathetically. "If you didn't listen the first fifteen times, we aren't telling you now."

There was probably no quicker way to wind Draco up than this, other than literally to be Harry Potter.

"Nah, you've got to tell me," he glared at his friends, getting to his feet and spinning his wand through his fingers. "Besides, think I don't know Legilimency? Hope you're an Occlumens, Blaise. We'll soon find out one way or another."

But before Draco could enter the other boy's mind he was already blocked out, and he growled in frustration.

His friends laughed again, riling him up further.

"For goodness' sake, Draco, what did you expect? We're all queer Purebloods," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Surely you can't think it's just you who's ever tried to hide your thoughts from your parents?"

"I realise that now," Draco glowered down at her. "And it's extremely annoying. I liked being the most traumatised member of the group but now I'm questioning it, because Blaise was fast just now."

"Try it again and I'll be fast to Hex you into next week," Blaise warned him, and Draco knew he meant it.

"This is so fucking ridiculous." He began to rake his hands through his hair in frustration, not stopping till it was completely wild. "You can't keep secrets from me."

"Oh, but we can," Pansy smiled. "You'll find out soon enough, though. And it'll be glorious."

Draco clenched his jaw so the vein stuck out by his throbbing temple. "I'm going to go and take this out on Potter," he announced.

"You do that, babe."

***

Harry, by the time Malfoy found him, was even less in the mood than usual to act as a venting board for the other boy's problems, having just had an argument with Neville of all people.

"I just expected better of you, Harry," Neville had told him that morning in Charms when the topic of Malfoy came up.

"Expected better of me how?" Harry had demanded, though he already knew where this was going.

Neville blushed, but raised his chin bravely to meet Harry's irritable green eyes. "Well, better than to fancy Malfoy. I know he's attractive, but I thought you were smart enough to see past that."

"I can't exactly help it, Neville," Harry snapped. "I'm not having an amazing time of it, either - if you hadn't noticed, he bullies me senseless every day and this is the best ammunition of his life."

Neville worried away at his lip. "Fine, forget I said anything," he said after an awkward while, and Harry shot him an unkind glare.

"Don't worry, I will."

He knew Neville didn't mean any harm, but nevertheless Harry was getting really sick of the judgement from the other Gryffindors which he'd been subjected to since the rumour about him and Malfoy had spread. Abuse and mocking from Slytherins was fine, he'd expected that. But Harry had even experienced cold shoulders from Hufflepuffs over this incident as well as from people he considered his friends, and that really stung.

And it didn't help that Malfoy was so incessantly malicious about the whole thing.

Speak of the Devil, he thought as the blonde boy swung round the corner into view, smirking as always.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, steeling himself for an insult.

"I just wondered why you looked so upset, that was all," Malfoy replied innocently. "Were you thinking about how you aren't on the Quidditch team any more, which is hilarious, or was it about how you're going to die alone because no one will ever fancy you back, which is funnier?"

"Believe it or not, neither of those things. It wasn't even about you," Harry lied coldly. "Not everything is."

"Shut up, Potter," the other boy sneered, but for once Harry was unfazed.

"What are you going to do, Malfoy?" he asked, confrontation heavy in his tone. "Kiss me again?"

Harry watched with self-righteous amusement as the boy began to turn red with indignation - he knew he couldn't deny the implications.

"Are you going to kiss me, Malfoy?" he pressed again. It was glorious to be in control, to watch Malfoy fidget uncomfortably for a change. "You going to put your tongue in my mouth again?"

"Potter, you know exactly why I did that-"

"I don't care," Harry beamed. "I still loved every second of it. How does that make you feel? I thought about it later, too-"

"Shut up, shut up!" Malfoy seemed almost panicked. He glanced around; people were milling to and from classes and could easily hear the conversation. The pair of them were certainly drawing at least a couple of glances already, which was mortifying.

"Had enough?" Harry simpered sarcastically. "This a bit much for you?"

"You're going to regret this, Potter," Malfoy glared. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs and glanced furtively around again. Great, more people were watching now.

"How are you going to make sure of that?" Harry asked, sliding his tongue slowly across his teeth and making sure Malfoy saw. He didn't know where this sudden confidence had come from, but it was gradually becoming ecstatic.

"You going to reject me again, like you do every time I so much as breathe near you?" Harry shrugged. "I'm desensitised."

"I can still hurt you," Malfoy vowed, but his words didn't hit as hard as usual, and Harry allowed himself a small laugh.

"I really don't think you can," he replied smugly. "I've decided to enjoy you in all your evil glory. Remember how you got that pretty bruise, baby?"

________________________________

a/n: harry standing up for himself!!! it's what we love to see.

my updates have been late recently and i am sorry but i'm still doing this i promise so there will be more updates soon on all my works!! it's fun too hehe

~ paradisedraco