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Long Strides to a Short Walk	By : EmeraldGrey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5988 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9a
- 10-9b
- 11-9c
- 12-10
- 13-11
- 3
- 4
- 5
**~~**Chapter 4**~~**

Draco�s slender shoulders shook with grief.

Hot tears poured down pale cheeks, and he couldn't swipe them away fast enough, no matter how many times he smoothed long slender fingers across his troubled eyes.

With the heels of his hands, rubbing deeply, he winced slightly at the pain, but it was nothing compared to his empty tattered heart.

The abandoned chambers echoed a few spoken truths.

Harry Potter, 'his Harry', for he had staked his claim on the small, beautiful, green-eyed boy, mentally marking Harry as his own, years ago, that very moment he'd first laid eyes on him.

Harry Potter did not want him.

"You had to of slipped me something into my drink, for I would NEVER on my own free

will, do the things with YOU that we did last night."

Harry Potter would never want him.

"I am thoroughly disgusted with myself."

One of the most beautiful nights Draco had ever known.

They had shared many secrets.

Their lovemaking had been better than any dream or fantasy Draco could have ever hoped to have had, and for one night, he'd held and captured his hearts deepest darkest desire.

But, Harry had brought it all crashing down around him, around both of them, the veil of the fantasy had been lifted, with just a few cruel words.

"If you EVER, ever, breathe a word of what took place in this room, or downstairs at the bar,"

Harry had hissed, his entire slender body taunt with suppressed anger, his back to the shaking Slytherin on the bed.

He hadn't even turned around to face Draco.

The venom had oozed out, each word dripping with a poison so powerful, it was tangible, piercing the shaken blonde boy to the tender core of his existence.

"YOU will regret it. I will MAKE sure YOU regret it.

But the dark haired Gryffindor�s parting words had cut the deepest, "If you do not believe me, just ask your Father, Voldemort, or any other lackey he has, that has had the misfortune to fuck with me."

Sitting up, Draco rolled over and carefully worked his way to the edge of the bed.

With his head in his hands, he leaned his elbows on his knees, feeling his heart constrict with each shuddered breath.

Oh God, what had he done?

Fresh tears fell as the memories of last night washed over him like a warm wave.

He had foolishly built castles in the sands of love with Harry Potter.

And now, like a Dementor�s cold kiss, as chilling as the firm icy slap of a snowball, Harry�s words of reality stung.

Echoing from deep inside the catacombs of his mind, drawing out from within him ghosts of memories past, words they had exchanged, fights they'd had, all of it, thoughts best left trapped inside his emotional paradox.

What had it all meant? Had it just been a build up, to the biggest let down of his young life?

With a heavy sigh, Draco stood, ignoring the soft murmur of concern from the mirror to his left.

And he knew then, it was over. All the wasted years, wishing, hoping for something, for someone that would never be.

The sudden finality of the reality hit him like a curse.

Draco was through.

Harry had never loved him like he'd loved Harry, nor would he.

Sighing he ran shaking hands through the long moonlight strands of his pale hair.

'Bleck', he felt tacky.

He heard his Fathers haughty, regal voice, inside his mind state, "A Malfoy is never seen as anything less than perfect in public, My little Dragon."

Looking down at his Quidditch toned body, he saw evidence of his and Harry�s lust filled evening.

Disgust filled him at his own folly, he launched himself off the bed, stomping towards the adjoining bathroom to wash away his shame.

After a quick shower, he carefully dried his body, and dressed hurriedly.

He just wanted to get back to school, and put the plan that had come to him in the middle of his shower, to fruition, and soon.

Operation: embarrass then forget Harry Bloody Potter.

Draco looked at the mirror, the mirror whistled.

Draco winked at his sexy reflection, the mirror giggled.

'Damn right! I'm bloody gorgeous, rich and available! Anyone would be proud to be seen with me!

Anyone but Harry Perfect Potter.

The only one he'd ever truly want, need, love.

Draco�s boots crushed over the shattered yellow shards of the now destroyed vase, as he opened the door.

Halting at the tinkling noise, he spied the two blood red battered roses.

Raising one heavy black boot, he brought it down hard with a dull thud, smashing those weak thoughts along with the tender Gryffindor hued blooms and Slytherin colored stalks, twisting the heel, grinding them deep into the polished dark wooden floor.

Walking swiftly albeit a bit carefully out of that room, the room with a view, that had witnessed his loss, his broken heart.

He closed the door, his dreams firmly behind him.

Taking a deep breath, Malfoy mask firmly in place, his features now set into his most intimidating sneer, Draco walked downstairs to settle up his and Potter�s bill.

"A Malfoy always pays his bills, and always in a expedient manner, my Dragon."

He felt flush when a hot wave of one of the many memories of last night, hit him hard like a bludger to his ribcage as he recalled Harry�s words, full of want, need, desire, seeing Harry�s passionate, lustful, emerald eyes glazed with hidden promises. Offering him everything, their depths captivating, drawing him down, past reason, past all rationality.

"Patience my arse my Dragon, please Draco, need you now, want you yesterday, pleaseeeeeeeee!"

He had softly moaned those very words to Draco, chin tilting seductively upwards, the gesture submissive, yet alluring.

A sharp jolt of possessiveness had slammed into him, and he'd growled deeply when Harry reached up slowly drawing him downward to taste his mouth.

Mewling impatiently, with tiny growls of his own, the wanton Gryffindor began thrusting upwards shamelessly inviting Draco to taste his full, lush lips.

Mouths now fully open, their long pink tongues hotly sliding, tangling, tasting, and as the kisses deepened, breaths quickening, two souls blended, forming a quicksilver dance damning them, drawing them both further down, and then finally over the precipice, only to fall, forever falling, into the abyss of the heart.

Draco�s surprised gasp as his boot slipped, causing him to stumble on the last step, drew the elder barkeep�s attention.

Looking up from the letter he was holding Tom watched the tall blonde boy carefully, noticing that the elder Malfoy, like his Father before him, had taught the lad well.

Draco grabbed the railing in a sure grip, preventing himself further embarrassment.

There were no traces of the broken heart Tom had sworn he'd heard earlier.

Draco paid the bill swiftly, remembering to add the proper gratuity fitting a Malfoy.

" A Malfoy Always tips well my young Dragon, it reminds others of their station, below us."

He had just raised a slender blonde brow, careful not to give any emotions away after being informed by the shabby older man, that Harry Potter had just now sent his half of their bill via his owl.

Draco looked down at his watch, ' hmm, if I hurry, I can just make breakfast.'

With a curt nod to Tom, he spun on his heel, and headed towards the door.

Tom watched sadly, as the youngest Malfoy exited his inn.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Back at the Gryffindor Common Room

The long uncomfortable silence was interrupted by a small growl.

Blaise Zabini blushed, as Ron Weasley grinned.

"Hey Mate," He said, trying not to show how eager he was to leave the room before the others in the tower arrived for the Saturday morning 'Gryffindor group trek' to breakfast in the great hall.

It had been Harry�s idea, a way to show unity in numbers, and House loyalty.

However, this morning in particular, he just wished to avoid a certain temperamental someone, oh and Harry too.

Turning up the wattage, he laid a wide, white grin on the Slytherin that would of made Lockhart proud!

"What say we go down and have some grub, yeah?"

The smaller boy lifted a slender blonde brow haughtily, while inside, his stomach did flips with the already dancing butterflies.

Merlin that smile.

"Honestly Ronald," He drawled, sounding every inch the Aristocrat he was.

"One could hardly tell you are from a fine Pureblood family, the way you speak,"

Shaking his silky head with mock sadness, he continued, "Yes Ronald, let us go to the Great hall and partake in the ritual known as breakfast." He sniffed, head tilted, biting his inner cheek to keep from bubbling over in laughter.

Shaking his auburn head, Ron softly snickered.

Standing up, he held out his arm, leaning down in an overtly gentlemanly fashion towards the blushing boy.

Looking up at the tall Gryffindor, he cheekily flashed him a pearly smile of his own, the cerulean blue irises sparkling with mirth.

As he looked down at him, Ron�s breath caught in his throat.

Merlin he's cute when he does that.

He was shocked to feel an interested twitch in his pants as his cock perked at the sight.

Shaking his head slightly, a tiny frown etched his full pink lips. Silently, he berated himself.

'What in the hells wrong with you! Blaise is your friend, and hello, in case you didn't notice, he's a bloody boy for Godric�s sake!'

Blaise's own lips quirked, wondering what it was now, that had set the redhead off, as he stood, and gave a deep mock bow before taking the proffered muscular arm, linking it with his own.

The pair then turned in unison, sweeping out of the portrait door, and down to the great hall, right past a shocked Harry Potter.

Just before going inside they quickly drop their arms to their sides.

Blushing, they giggle, smoothing down the wrinkles in their robes, before running nervous fingers through their hair.

"Um," Ron begins.

"Er, yeah, well, have Granger just bring my wand to Potions then?" Blaise said, his tummy butterflies once again taking flight.

Ron again ran his hands nervously through his short auburn hair, the action causing it to stand up in coppery spikes, making him look even more alluringly sexy, with that 'just shagged in the morning' style.

Blaise had to bite his full bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping his mouth.

"Well" he squeaked, "um, see ya in class then!"

Ron watched bemused as the boy ran to his table, black school robes flying as skidding around the corner, he twisted his slender frame just in time to avoid crashing into some Slytherin first year�s.

Wincing, he shrugged his wide shoulders up to his ears, as he watched helplessly as Blaise skidded toward the children.

When Blaise finally sat safely down, suddenly very interested in filling up his plate, Ron just grinned, shaking his head as he turned, waving at Seamus and Dean, and walked over to his own table.

He'd just helped himself to the pile of fluffy scrambled eggs in front of him, when he felt something poke him in his back.

Looking up, he met her brown eyes.

Tossing her his quirky grin, Ron carefully tested the waters of her quicksilver moods.

Primly sitting down beside him, she quickly handed him both wands under the table, all the while engaging him in a conversation.

A conversation he would most rather put off, indefinitely.

"We really should discuss further the ramifications of yesterdays altercations, Ron."

Nodding to her superior attitude, he carefully pockets them, watching her, as he wants to be ready.

After slowly buttering a slice of warm, wheat toast, she is carefully spreading strawberry jam to the edges, as opening her mouth, she continues her lecture.

'Ah yes, here it comes.'

"Ronald Weasley, this is serious! You and that Slytherin, truly have NO idea just what you have done to poor Harry."

Nibbling thoughtfully on a crispy edge, she chewed, swallowed, as she added,

"Or Malfoy."

" For Godric�s sakes Ron, this is VERY serious!"

Winking at her, he nearly chokes on his forkful of fluffy eggs, when he notices a small smear of the green goo at the corner of her left ear.

'Oh Merlin�s balls!'

'Nooooooooooooo'

Tamping down hard on his wild urge to flee, as the onslaught of early this mornings memory of her in her 'eww, choice of sleeping attire,' oh God, he felt like he was gonna be sick.

Quickly grabbing his golden goblet of pumpkin juice, gulping down a sip or two, he almost spits it out when a familiar hand come down hard across his shoulders.

His freckled face goes pale slightly as turning his head, he finds himself now face to face with a pair of blazing emerald eyes.

"Well Ronald," Harry hissed, sitting down beside him, " Aren�t' you going to ask me how my date with Malfoy went, hmm?" He asked, his fingers air quoted on the word 'date.'

Elbowing the larger boy non too gently in the ribs at the others lack of response, Harry taunted, "Don'tcha wanna know all the nasty little details?" He sneered, waiting and watching both of his friends.

"Well?!" He demanded, green eyes snapping, as he looked from one to the other.

Gulping nosily, Ron just blushed, shaking his coppery head, anything to avoid those angry eyes.

Harry frowned. Then he narrowed his green gaze.

"Ah, er, wellll no, ah, not really." Ron stammered, taking care not to dump his goblet into his plate because his hands were now shaking so badly.

'He's gonna hate me, I'm gonna lose my best friend.'

"Ron, what in the hell is wrong with you?! Usually both you and Hermione are all over me, asking stupid personal questions, not giving it a bloody rest until I break down and spill."

'OH fuck! No way do I want to hear about his evenings escapades! What if, what if Blaise was right? Harry and the Ferret, locked in a passionate embrace, oh Godric�s willy, He was feeling funny down there as suddenly in his mind the descriptive picture became him, and a different Slytherin. Hands touching places, stroking, lips brushing, as moist tongues battle for control.'

Harry�s eyes widened, then narrow slightly, watching his friend blush harder, still avoiding looking at him.

Hermione, who was NOT intimidated by her famous friend sighed as shaking her brown haired head replied,

"Now Harry, what makes you think that? And do STOP badgering poor Ron, I told him NOT to pry, because what ever DID or didn't happen is strictly between you and Malfoy, now, eat your breakfast, and do calm down, you are upsetting the first years."

Frowning, Harry shoots a quick look down the long table. Sure enough, several small faces have registered expressions, ranging from curious, to shocked, to worried.

Turning back to the smug girl, he notices that her small hands slightly shook while she is now buttering another slice of wheat toast, the wide silver butter knife moving back and forth slowly.

Through slitted eyes, he watches as she sets it down on the edge of her plate without any jam. He frowns as she absently piles food onto her plate, and then, picking up her fork, she begins eating.

'Okay, something�s going on here. Herm only eats one slice of toast at a time, and she forgot to put jam on the second slice. Also, she never eats this much food. Except when something is deeply bothering her, hmm.' He ponders.

Harry tries again to catch her eye, but she keeps on eating, looking down at the rapidly disappearing food on her plate, pointedly ignoring him.

With a little snort of frustration at being brushed aside like lint so openly, he reaches over and started loading down his own plate, carelessly slapping scrambled eggs, and heaps of ham and bacon, and wheat toast, and fried tomatoes, and golden potato puffs.

Shaking ketchup on his plate, he felt someone staring. Looking suddenly up he catches Colin Creevy�s interested blue gaze.

Now this was nothing new, as since Harry�s second year, he'd grown accustomed to the younger boy stalking him regularly, and always with his bloody camera at the ready.

No, the strange thing was, as soon as their eyes met, Colin blushed and quickly looked away.

'Ah, the plot thickens.'

Smacking Seamus on the hand as he steals the last pumpkin pastry, Harry frowns, and leans behind Ron, loudly asking Neville to pass him another one.

Neville Longbottom was deep in thought.

After Ron and Zabini had sent him and Colin packing with their threats, they had went straight to Hermione�s room.

There she had told both boys just what might have happened.

He and Colin had turned a deep rose red at the blunt and descriptive way she'd explained everything.

How both Wizards and Witches could conceive, even with the same sex.

Neville shuddered, not even his Gran had had the talk with him yet.

Sometimes, Neville decided, as he carefully bit into a flaky pumpkin pastry, sometimes knowing too much was a bad thing.

He almost jumped out of his skin, when he felt heavy hands fall on his shoulders.

Looking up, he squeaks loudly, dropping his treat.

Harry was getting mad.

First Ron gives him the silent treatment, then Herm bloody insults him in front of the whole fucking House, and then ignores him, Colin won't even look at him, and now? Neville is acting like Harry was the Bloody Baron?!

'Okay, what in Godric�s name is going on!?'

"Neville," Harry asked as sweetly as possible. Well, as sweetly as one could with their teeth tightly clenched.

But the sudden appearance of him had startled the shy boy.

Coughing, Neville grabbed his goblet, draining it, while his long black lashes swept his plump pink cheeks.

At Neville�s bumbling, yet embarrassingly blatant refusal to even look at him, shaking his head, Harry reaches down and snatches two of the remaining light fluffy pastries from a gold platter.

Putting one in each hand, he is smirking, as he then returns toward his seat. But as he is heading back to his place at the table, that was when he heard, it, that, that, 'voice'.

"But OF COURSE I survived, Blaise, my pet."

Draco Malfoy boomed, touching his friends hand gently, dropping his undertones to sultry, at the endearment, while trailing his finger tips lightly up and down the other boys arm.

Blaise felt flush. 'What on earth was wrong with Draco?'

"As I was saying, 'luv' " Draco leered, leaning in closer, their faces so close, Blaise felt the taller boys soft breath, it's scent spiked with pumpkin juice.

At the handsome boy�s nearness, Blaise wet his lips, feeling slightly dizzy, when he felt himself drawn into the mesmerizing seductive web of Slytherin�s reigning 'Sex God'.

As suddenly as he had leaned forward, Draco pulled back, declaring loudly, "I'd hardly count 'that' pathetic attempt as a date!"

Blaise could only watch as Draco threw back his pale blonde head and laughed.

He then 'eeped' as Draco snaked a slender yet surprisingly strong arm around his shoulders, drawing him near with an icy sneer, and cooed, "No, Blaise, my sweet, it was more like a bloody inconvenience, just something I tolerated, NOT enjoyed. Not to mention, he's NOT my type, and?"

Draco quirked a slender pale brow, and staring straight ahead and through Harry, he drawled," He is nothing, he's not like you, luv."

Looking over his frozen Gryffindor target, the unfriendly grey gaze narrowed to mercury slits filling with a burning desire to hurt Harry even more. And as his eyes darkened, he takes aim and fired off,

"NO, in no way were last nights 'excursions', relished. However as I am an honorable Wizard, I simply did what any honorable Wizard would do, I had made a bet, I won, and as unpleasant as it was, I showed up and just, tolerated it. But I did NOT like it." With an elegant snort, he added,

"Hells Blaise, I would of preferred the Weasel�s company to that geeky four-eyed git! Merlin, he can't even hold his drink! The whole night was a bloody joke, but, I forgive you. Now, lets put this whole nasty business behind us. I don't know about you, but just the mere mentioning of it has left me with a 'muddy' taste in my mouth, although,"

He then swept his cold silver gaze crudely up, then down, then away from the stunned boy, as he continued, his words hate filled and hate laced, "Considering the source, it's no bloody 'wonder'."

Trickles of perverse pleasure ran rampant through Draco�s veins at the shock, the open raw hurt his words had laid bare for the whole fucking hall to witness.

He had accomplished what even Voldemort himself could not, and he'd done it very, very well.

He, Draconis Lucius Malfoy, had rendered his enemy, Harry James Potter, utterly and totally gob smacked.

He'd have to admit, the now blank look Harry was sporting spoke volumes.

Draco had done it, alone and without a wand, only with words, he had rendered his one true enemy speechless.

'Treat me like a fucking common Muggle one night stand will you? I think not.'

Smirk deepening, Draco then looks over at Blaise, his shocked friend, who also was looking at the Gryffindor table, only he was staring straight into a set of quizzical hurt, angry 'blue' eyes. 'Shit, Ron.'

Harry Potter was seething!

Harry Potter was livid!

Harry Potter was now 'The-Boy-Who-Wanted-To-Kick-Draco-Malfoy�s-Smart-Arsed-Slytherin-Bum!

Yep!

Next stupid autograph he fucking signed for some stupid autograph hound would bloody well say just that!

And he'd bloody well do it with a flourish, just like Lockhart had taught him in second year!

Bloody, bleeding, buggery! What in Merlin�s name was Malfoy trying to prove?

Harry was so damn fuckin' hurt, so fuckin' pissed off, he could hardly breathe, he could barely think straight!.

Godric�s cock!

Could that fucking, prancing, prat Malfoy have NOT been any fucking more generous with his bloody suggestive words!!??

Merlin!

Malfoy might be comfortable with his leap out of the same sex closet, but fuck all!

The great poufy git had just ran over Harry�s Closet, and with Harry still in it! Now, he stood bare, with no place to hide.

While although Malfoy had been the more knowledgeable of the two last night, Harry knew he'd been a bit naive, but he'd thought what he didn't have in personal experience, he'd more than made up for it with his eagerness to please.

Anyway, he hadn't thought he'd been THAT bad.

He'd also known that Malfoy was gonna be a bit spiteful, perhaps flinging more than the usual amount of nasty, and that, in a strange way, had it been him in the other boys place, he'd probably of been justified at feeling the same.

He would of done just the same. He trembled lightly as a shiver ran up his spine at the weight the cruelty his harsh words to Malfoy held.

Except as he stared deeply into those hate filled eyes, his ego couldn't help but search for a sliver, just a trace of what they had shared.

And, even as he hated himself for caring, he tried mentally stamping out the Phoenix flames of his forbidden desires, but they just rose higher, burning up and turning to ash the many reasons he'd told Malfoy, and himself, just why they could never be.

Harry shuddered as memories of hot kisses, placed tenderly, in never before kissed places, thoughts now flashing, blending into Malfoy, sweaty, shaking, holding him tightly, whispering loving words softly against his hair, touching him gently, sending them both headlong into the secret kaleidoscope void that only lovers can reach.

Blinking away traitorous thoughts, Harry looked at Malfoy, really looked deep into him, searching those cold quicksilver eyes, his emotions twisted, turning, coming to a rolling boil as each smart arse comment was flung his way, their needle sharp barbs finding their mark, again, and again, shattering his memories, destroying hidden dreams.

'What if he killed Voldemort, what if he and Malfoy could patch things up, start again?'

What if?

What if?

What if?

But he became blindsided, invisible knives disguised as words, slashing at him, leaving him wounded, left bleeding, open to a brand of humiliation he'd never before experienced.

Harry'd never had a lover, but, after feeling Malfoy�s wrath, he now understood why.

Merlin but this was embarrassing!

Malfoy was being as petty and as vindictive as a bloody wronged bird!

What a girl !

Feeling helpless to stop him, knowing Malfoy needed this vindication, a part of him, the insane Gryffindor part, just wanted to stalk over to Malfoy�s table, and jerk him right over it, and into his arms, and snog the haughty bastard senseless, drawing out every bit of fight and malice trapped inside of him until, finally, with a small whimper, Malfoy surrenders in his arms, where he belonged.

Yes, in another place, another time, another world, yes, that is what he truly would of done, right in front of bloody everybody, Dumbledore, all the Professors, all of his friends, all the ghosts and every bloody little first year be dammed!

But, he could hear his friends comments, he could feel every eye both alive and dead, young and old, in the hall, now watching his every move, awaiting his next.

And when he could feel his own emotions crescendo to a fevered pitch as volatile as Neville fucking up a potion in Snape�s dungeon, Harry did something he had never done before.

Spinning smartly on his heel, his black school robes billowing out into a Snape Swirl, so impressive, Professor Snape himself, arched one fine black brow over his now poised tea cup, fearing to take a sip, lest he miss any of the action.

Yes, Severus Snape, as well as the whole hall, were holding their collective breaths.

Draco Malfoy had dropped the metaphorical gauntlet on the 'Wizarding Worlds Wonder Boy�s', toes, and in an, ah, very 'personal' way.

The bitter Potions Professor�s lips curled upwards a tiny bit, as he wondered if he could dock Potter past his usual 50 points loss.

Draco had been brilliantly cruel, and Severus was curious to see what would happen once the cheeky Potter brat opened up his little gob.

Ron was furious!

How DARE that slimy git touch HIS er, friend Blaise! And what in the BLOODY hell was up with all of those shmoopy icky-sticky words?!

Godric�s balls!

How he would just love to wipe the satisfied little smirk off of that pointy ferret face!

Fuck! To hear Malfoy tell it, the whole of last night had been a bloody disaster.

Poor Harry, he didn't deserve any of the mean and hurtful crap Malfoy had just spewed.

And Merlin�s willy!

He'd rather French kiss a bloody Dementor�s arse, than go on a date with that great bloody fruitcake!

NO WAY!

Draco Malfoy was mental!

And, although Ron tried, he just couldn't help being a bit upset with Blaise, as he'd just simply sat there, not spurning the other boys obviously tasteless advances.

His confused feelings are alight in his own bright blue eyes when he looks over at the enemy table, trying to catch his Slytherin�s attention, and he feels a sense of peace as he now found himself falling into dark crystal blue depths. But dammit, he was still pissed!

After Malfoy had his say, Ron snorted, deciding right then and there, if Harry didn't do a fucking thing and soon, he was gonna!

Because if he had to watch that slimy bastard paw Blaise like they were boyfriends or some sort of item now, Ron was gonna hurl.

No he was gonna punch and hex the evil little scrawny creep, THEN he was gonna hurl, yeah, all over those fancy schmancy, Holy CRAP!

The redheads jaw drops, as he watched Harry, then his generous mouth curved into a satisfied grin, yeah, good on you Harry, that�s showing him!

Hee* Oh looky there, Ron tisked, and he giggled like a madman as he watched with glee, as all over that smirking Slytherin face, Malfoy was now covered with golden pastry that was dripping slowly down, down his fancy black robes!

He watched as Malfoy casually flicked a piece of the pie shell now hanging off of his little pointy nose, suddenly screech at the top of his lungs, as leaping over the table, he pounced hard on top of poor Harry!

Ron Weasley was off of his bench in ten seconds flat. Malfoy was going down!

Harry wanted to scream with frustration!

Not only had Malfoy embarrassed him with his oh so NOT subtle subtext of their evening, BUT? He had made it well known he hadn't enjoyed it, any of it..

'Ya could of fooled me you little bitch!' He wanted to yell.

"Ah, Ah, Ah, temper Mr. Potter, snickered his inner Snape gleefully.

'Oh fuck off and die!' He bellowed deep inside.

And as the bubbling cauldron of his anger in his mind spilt over, Harry didn't think, he didn't even blink, he just walked robes billowing in his Snape Swirl, right up to that smirking son of a bitch, and slammed him hard with both warm pastries right up-side his face!

Then with his seekers reflex, he snatched Malfoy�s full golden goblet of pumpkin juice, and dumped it over his head.

Giving the startled boy a smirk worthy of Salazar himself he simply said two words,

"Fuck You." And walked off.

Well, he would of just walked off but the last thoughts he had as he watched Malfoy sail over the table was,

"I am SO fucked."

"Harry, dammit, look out!" Ron bellowed.

Ron�s angry yell was the last thing he heard.
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Long Strides to a Short Walk