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Boys Will Be Boys

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I’ve been watching them for a few weeks now, a twisting sensation in my stomach whenever I see them huddled together in the library. Eighth year has been all about forgiveness, and I can completely get on board with that, but that doesn’t mean Hermione has to get all chummy with Draco bloody Malfoy.

It makes me feel sick whenever I see them walking side by side in the hallway, or when Hermione comes back to the common room late in the afternoon, cheeks flushed and lips swollen like she has been snogging the pointy git. Or worse…

It should be me on my knees, swallowing Malfoy’s likely stupidly big prick down my throat. Why should she get to taste him when I'm the one who’s been fantasizing over him for the entire year?

Merlin, what is wrong with me? Jealous of my best friend over her relationship with that slimy, arrogant, ridiculously gorgeous Slytherin. I should just be happy for her and, more importantly, shouldn’t be pining over my former nemesis.

He’s sitting with her now, on a grassy patch by the Great Lake, white-blond hair blowing in the breeze and striking grey eyes shining with amusement. I grind my teeth and try to ignore the beast roaring in my chest but it does little good. Before I'm even aware of it, my feet carry me across the field and I’m breathing heavily, staring down at the two of them.

“Harry,” Hermione asks, eyes filled with concern, “Is everything alright?”

"No," I growl in return. "Don't think I haven't noticed what you two have been up to. Ron may be oblivious but I'm much more perspective and I see what's going on."

Malfoy is staring at me, eyes wide and mouth open while Hermione just rolls her eyes.

"Honestly, Harry—" Hermione begins.

"How could do that to Ron, Mione?" I cut her off, "And besides you and Malfoy are completely wrong for each other!"

"Harry—" Hermione tries again.

"You're supposed to be with Ron. You two are meant for each other." My heart starts to pound and I can feel myself losing control. "Malfoy isn't supposed to be with you, he should be with me!"

Shit.

Malfoy looks shocked, his eyes nervously darting between myself and Hermione.

"Oh Harry," she sighs, looking amused if not just a little frustrated. "Draco and I are just friends. There is nothing going on between us. In fact most of the time we chat about you."

"Granger," Malfoy warns, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"No," Hermione says sternly, "I've had enough of you two dancing around one another."

"What is she talking about," I ask Malfoy, my mouth suddenly dry.

"I... Well..." Malfoy murmurs softly, eyes trained on the ground, "Do you really think I should be with you, Potter?"

"Well, er, that is..." I trail off nervously, a strange bubble of hope growing in my chest.

"I'll leave you two alone to talk it out," Hermione grins, standing up and grabbing her bag.

Malfoy gives me a small, shy smile as I take a seat in her place, my palms sweaty as I wipe them against my trousers.

"So..." I swallow loudly.

"Indeed..." Malfoy replies.

"Boys," Hermione mutters to herself as she shakes her head and makes her way back to the castle.