Harry Potter 1. A Midnight Tryst

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not ever... If Harry Potter was mine... I would not need to be studying for those damn finals.

**A/N: **Here is the Beta'd version! Much love and thanks to my beta, Edgar-A.-Poe and Exia!

I had a lot of fun writing this and really enjoyed it, I hope you guys like it too. Please review and tell me what you think, whether you liked it or not and stuff, it would so totally make my day :) Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Quick note: This is Post-Voldemort. Harry won etc. The boys are in seventh year.

Cheers! Read on!

_**Irresistibly Delicious**_

Chapter one: Midnight Trysts

"Can't. Bloody. Sleep."

Draco growled through clenched teeth. After hours of tossing and turning in his bed, it was safe to say that he was thoroughly frustrated. Of course, it didn't help that he only amassed a total of 5 hours of sleep in the past week.

Insomnia was a bitch.

Draco cringed at the thought of haggard circles appearing under his seductive eyes. It would not bode well with the ladies, not at all.

After another few minutes of internally debating whether to get up or not, the sleepless young boy made up his mind. There was no point staring up at his ceiling, it had lost its charm two nights ago.

Throwing Pansy's arm off his bare chest, Draco got up and threw on a cloak. As he started to head out towards the common room, a sleepy voice stopped him.

"Where you going, Drake?" Pansy's muffled voice drifted from his bed.

Draco took a deep breath before turning to face Pansy. The lack of sleep was most definitely making him irritable, but Pansy paid no attention. In fact, she found him rather adorable when he was irritated.

"The kitchens, Panse. Now don't let me disturb your _beauty_ sleep," Draco scowled back.

"Mmmk. Can you get me some of those things... those... escargots?" asked Pansy with a horrible accent; her terrible pronunciation caused Draco to flinch.

"Snails? At one in the morning?!"

"Oh... that's what they are... And is there anything wrong with having snails at one in the morning? Or are there some Malfoy family rules that prohibit such an activity?" Pansy finally sat up, her hair messed, as she mock-glared at Malfoy.

She then smiled slyly and added, "Unless... you rather I suck on something else..."

Draco did not miss her intentions, but he felt slightly revolted by Pansy's _seductive_ batting of eyelashes.

"No, thanks. Now if you don't mind…"

With that, Draco left, slamming the door and causing several boys to stir in their sleep.

--

"Are you sure, Dobby? I don't remember this step. In fact, I think you're supposed to add some eggs..." Harry asked uncertainly, hands inching towards the eggs, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Of course you don't! But Dobby understands if Master Harry doesn't trust Dobby, sir," the house-elf peered at Harry with this big, round eyes.

"Fine, fine! I believe you, but if this doesn't work out..." Harry trailed off, and gave Dobby a pointed look instead. He sighed and retracted his hand away from the eggs.

"Dobby is sure of it! Master Harry is a talented wizard! Dobby will go get the icing ready at once!" Without further ado, Dobby jumped up and rushed to and fro in the kitchen, infused with new enthusiasm.

"Wait!" Harry called out to Dobby's retreating back, but the little house-elf was too far gone to hear, leaving Harry to peer anxiously at the batter. A persistent feeling of unease settled itself in Harry's stomach. But... if Dobby says there are no eggs, who is he to argue?

Taking a deep breath and tightly shutting his eyes, "Here goes nothing..." Harry popped the cake batter into the oven and set the timer.

After almost an eternity of intense nail-chewing, lip-biting anxiousness, Harry became concerned with the still-not-rising and very dry cake in the oven.

"Isn't this damn thing supposed to rise?" Harry muttered to himself.

Harry's relief upon hearing the ding of the timer was immense, but short-lived.

The cake did not rise at all, and looked a bit clumpy, which was quite concerning.

"And great, Dobby is nowhere to be seen,"Harry thought, clueless at what to do with the _cake_. Harry groaned, "Argh, where did I go wrong this time?" while poking balefully at his cake.

"You left out the eggs, you twit," an arrogant voice answered Harry from behind.

Not expecting an answer, a very startled Harry whipped around so fast that he almost knocked over his cake, only to see a highly amused Draco Malfoy, in his pyjamas bottom and an unbuttoned cloak, revealing a marble expanse of a toned chest and stomach, and his blonde hair falling softly around his face.

"What are you doing here?" Harry bit out, trying to cover his surprise with annoyance.

It would not do well to show Malfoy surprise. Not to mention that he was right, and Dobby was wrong, and that it was the ferret boy who caught his mistake, it all made Harry slightly annoyed.

Malfoy raised and infuriatingly aristocratic eyebrow at Harry's tone.

"I'm hungry, moron. Why else would I be in the kitchen? To make breakfast for the whole school? Not bloody likely. YOU, on the other hand," a gleeful smile appears on Malfoy's face, "are here to bake, no, to _learn_ how to bake. The bloody Boy-Who-Lived cannot bake a simple cake!" The blond boy's smirk was threatening to break into outright gleeful laughter, while the raven-haired boy reddened in embarrassment and anger.

"Shut up. I was trying new things out, being creative. And I'll have you know that girls admire a man who can bake!" Harry defended himself, trying to fight the blush threatening to bless his face.

Draco snorted, he couldn't help himself.

"Two mistakes: A, you're not a man, and B, you can't bake. So really, I don't see the point of you trying. By the way, since you're in such a nice, helpful, _creative_ mood, get me some escargot and a chocolate cake, and no, not the cake you just butchered."

With a sneer, the Slytherin sat down and watched Harry; leaning back and crossing his arms as he observed the Gryffindor. Draco noticed that the young boy across from him was quite tall; of course not as tall as himself, but tall enough. The stress of Voldemort and schoolwork was still evident on Harry's body, as he was still very thin, but was beginning to gain some weight. Of course, even through the thinness, Draco could see Harry's chest and stomach were taut and toned...his musings were interrupted by Harry.

"Escargot?! Snails at one in the morning? What are you? French?" Harry looked at the other boy incredulously.

"Stop staring at me, the lovesick look is definitely _not_ your forte. And the snails aren't for me, dimwit. Parkinson has questionable urges."

"Whoopa!" Harry mocked a whipping motion. "Whipped, Malfoy, whipped! Never thought I'd live to see Malfoy whipped by a girl... especially not Pansy."

Malfoy growled dangerously in this throat, he was no longer leaning back in his chair casually; rather, he was tense and glaring at the other boy.

"At least I can _get_ a girl," Malfoy countered back.

"I can get a girl, too!" Harry was on the defensive; his chin jutted out defiantly. "For all you know, I could be baking this cake for a girl, and she can be waiting for me in bed right this instant!" Harry wondered where that came from.

Malfoy let out another very un-Malfoyish snort.

"Don't delude yourself, Potter. We both know very well there exists no such girl in your life. And even if there _was_ a girl in your bed, you wouldn't be down here mourning over an un-baked cake." But before Harry could articulate a response, Malfoy continued on, in irritatingly arrogant tones. "As much as I _love _discussing your love life, or lack of, I want some sleep, so hurry up and get me my food."

"I'm not your bloody servant. Get your own stuff." Harry bristled, still very annoyed at Malfoy's last comment, but was at a loss for a comeback... after all, Malfoy was right. Damn the stupid git.

"I'm a Malfoy, a pureblood. For you to serve me, would be an honour that few can attain," Draco stated snootily. Even while sitting, Malfoy managed to peer down his nose at Harry.

"Oh yeah? You think?"

Without thinking, Harry grabbed his cake, the cake he painstakingly slaved over, and smeared it all over Draco's smirking face and platinum blond locks.

Stunned, neither boy moved for a minute.

Quickly recovering, Malfoy spluttered as he wiped his face as best as he could, but the cake wasn't quite done and consequently still quite doughy, only served to just spread more over Draco's face.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL, POTTER?!" a very indignant and cake-covered Draco howled. His hands twitching as he controlled himself not to sock Potter in the face, or hex him into oblivion. The thought of detention kept him from indulging in his desire.

"Don't know what you're complaining about, Ferret Boy. I personally think the cake completes your image quite nicely: an insufferable wimp." Harry, for his part, tried not to start laughing uncontrollably to avoid further antagonising the other boy; he had no desire to be cursed, but that didn't stop him from internally congratulating himself a job well done.

"_Very_ mature, Potter, _very _mature," growled Draco. Harry just responded with a good-natured shrug.

Draco scowled and glared daggers at the bespectacled boy. Normally, this would scare the living daylights out of anyone, but coupled with the cake on Draco's face, the glare became rather comical.

"Here's your chocolate cake, _your royal highness_" Harry mockingly bowed low, and with a flourish, presented Malfoy with his cake.

Still glaring, Malfoy grounded out, "Why, I thank you, Scarhead. Where is my escargot then?" Barely contained anger dripped from each word.

"Meh, go get them yourself. Oh, and a suggestion, go clean yourself up first, Ferret Boy," Harry advised in a sage voice, while he helped himself to a forkful of Draco's scrumptious chocolate cake.

"You know what, a big FUCK YOU to you, Potter." Draco gave Harry the middle finger salute. "I'll tell Pansy you took her snails. You can deal with her. Oh and by the way, you can tell your imaginary girlfriend that–" Draco was cut off by Harry.

"For the love of Merlin, I do NOT have an imaginary girlfriend!"

"AHA! So you admit it, you can't get a girl!" Draco taunted with a gleeful smile, his anger and cake all forgotten.

Harry retorted back, "Unlike you, I don't whore my way through school"

"I don't whore Potter, I charm. Only people jealous of my charm call it whoring," Draco drawled lazily. "It's perfectly all right to be incapable of getting a girl, Potter. Crabbe and Goyle are still struggling in that department." Draco's barb was not missed by Harry Potter.

"I can get a girl if I wanted!" Harry could _not_ believe that he was having this conversation with Malfoy, of all people.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Wanna bet?" Harry challenged, but cringed inwardly, wondering where this would lead to.

Smirking, Draco said, "Eager to prove ourselves, are we? What do you want to bet on? Your firebolt?"

"HELL NO! What do I get if I win?"

After a moment of pondering, a scheming gleam came into Draco's grey eyes.

"Fine, let's say that whoever loses... has to sleep with Crabbe, Goyle or Bulstrode."

A look of utter revulsion was placed firmly on Harry's face. "That is just..." He shuddered.

"I thought so. We on?" Draco held out his hand, sneer firmly in place, fully expecting Harry not to accept.

Seeing the sneer, Harry steeled himself and shook on the bet. For the first time after first year, Harry accepted Malfoy's hand. As their hands connected, Harry noted with a surprise that Malfoy's hand was not as soft as he imagined but rather rough and calloused, like his own hand. Malfoy ended the handshake as he quickly pulled away. It then hit Harry what he agreed to. He realized that he would most likely regret this rash bet, but he'll let his later self to worry about it.

Malfoy was shocked, but was quickly covered by a smirk. This would be interesting.

"What are the rules, Malfoy?"

"No rules, you have to find ANY means of getting a girl to sleep with you within a month and I can employ any means to stop you. By the way, whores don't count."

Smirking one last time, Malfoy left the kitchen, chocolate cake and escargot forgotten.

--

"Drake, is that you?" Pansy asked from Draco's bed.

"No, it's Dumbledore, you cow," Draco replied back sarcastically, heading towards the showers.

"Gosh, what got your knickers in a knot?" she asked as she got up and started walking towards the boy, clad in only a sheer nightgown. As she got closer she noticed there was something sticky and gooey in Draco's hair.

"Is that... dough in your hair?" She raised a delicately arched eyebrow as the boy started disrobing in front of her. Even after years of seeing Malfoy naked, Pansy still couldn't help but admire his slender, but toned body.

"Actually, it's Potter's pathetic excuse of a cake," he said as he disappeared into a shower stall.

"What's it doing on you?" Pansy leaned on the door frame, greatly intrigued.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh; women never knew when to shut up.

There was a moment of silence as Draco just enjoyed the stream of hot water hitting his skin. All tension flowed out of his muscles as the water flowed down his body.

"Because, Pansy," he began slowly, as if talking to a toddler, "Potter and I have nightly trysts in the kitchen where we take turn stuffing each others' faces with under-baked cakes."

Pansy gave a mock-sigh of wistfulness and clasped her hands to her heart, "If only you were that creative with me."

Draco rolled his eyes, and proceeded to scrub furiously at his hair to wash out the cake. He studiously ignored Pansy's inane chatter as he washed the rest of himself.

"Turn around, I'm coming out."

"Why such a prude? There's nothing I haven't seen..." Pansy grinned slyly, but turned around nonetheless. "Hmm... did you say that Potter was baking?" Pansy asked thoughtfully.

"No, he was watching this pan of mush, that he calls a cake, in the oven"

"Awww, Potter can bake!"

"ARGH! Have you not been listening to me, Panse? I have explicitly implied that Potter CANNOT bake –" Draco stopped short as he took notice of Pansy's starry expression.

"Do you actually find that endearing?" Draco asked in bewilderment.

"Of course! Think about it, if Potter was your boyfriend," upon seeing Malfoy's face, Pansy quickly added in, "hypothetically speaking of course. Now imagine you two had a fight and to make it up to you, he bakes a box of your favourite brownies. It'll make his apologies all that more sincere, especially since the brownies are baked with his love..." She trailed off dreamily, but was rudely interrupted by a fake retching sound.

"That was nauseatingly sweet. LOOK! I even got cavities listening to that." Malfoy's face popped in front of her with his mouth wide open.

Pansy just sniffed daintily and turned to leave, "You do not have a single romantic bone in your body. You're insufferable."

Malfoy was about to respond when she suddenly remembered something.

She turned back to Draco, who only had a towel wrapped around his waist, and narrowed her dark eyes dangerously, effectively cutting off any reply from the boy.

"Where is my escargot?"

"It's escargot. You don't pronounce the T"

"Whatever. Where is it?"

"Potter took it. Nothing I could do, he was threatening me with his sub-standard cake"

"Potter has weird urges in the morning too, eh? And he bakes... hmm what else can he do?" Pansy pondered to herself; once again, the topic of Potter pushed the escargots from her mind.

"He can also make brownies too!" Draco mocked her in a high pitch voice, all this talk about Scarhead was not making him happy. Only time people could talk to him about Potter was to insult the stupid Boy-Who-Refused-to-Die.

"Why you don't you go and shag him already, Panse?" Draco bit out as he stormed past Pansy back to his bed.

"Aw, are you jealous, ickle Drakie-poo?" Pansy followed him with her arms crossed and a mischievous grin on her face.

She leaned casually against the bedpost as she watched Draco look for a towel to dry his hair.

"No," Malfoy scowled as he found a towel and proceeded to dry his hair, "go get me some coffee. I need to stay awake and take vengeance on Potter for ruining my good looks. Don't deny it Pansy, you think I'm good looking," Draco added in when he saw Pansy about to protest.

"No way. You're gonna kill yourself if you don't get some sleep. Besides, why didn't you get your coffee when you were in the kitchen?" Pansy argued.

A moment of silence and then, "Bah, you know, if Voldemort used weapons of mass destruction or something equally devastating... like a sleepless potion, he would've won the war."

"Don't be daft, Panse, that's just... preposterous..." Draco trailed off, but a gleam was present in his stormy grey eyes. "Tomorrow's prophet will be most enlightening" Draco muttered to himself. With that, Draco jumped into action and hurriedly pushed a very confused Pansy out the door.

"See you at breakfast!" he said as he slammed the door in her face.

"But, what about your coffee?" she called back from the other side of the door.

"Forget it! I want to live another day!" Draco yelled back, not caring who he woke up.

He had a plan. Potter was going to rue the day he stuffed ... dough in Malfoy's hair. Oh would he ever rue that day.

--

**A/N: **What do think? Now before you go elsewhere, click that little button at the bottom and review!! Thanks for taking your time to read this. It's much appreciated!


	2. Weapons of Doom

Disclaimer: None of these are mine, All belong to JK Rowling. However, cracks of doom or whatever belongs to JRR Tolkien.

A/N: I'm done! I'm done! I'm done my finals! And to celebrate, here's chapter two.

Yes, and many thanks to those who reviewed, they really cheered me and kept me motivated to study. ) much thanks!

Of course, another thanks to my betas, Edgar-A.-Poe and Exia!

And I know there may be some confusion with the whole cake and wizarding world and Pansy's relationship. But fear not! They'll be answered in the next chapter )

March on and read!

_**Irresistibly Delicious**_

Chapter Two: Weapons of Doom

Last time:

"Forget it! I want to live another day!" Draco yelled back through the door, not caring who he woke up.

He had a plan. Potter was going to rue the day he stuffed ... dough in Malfoy's hair. Oh would he ever rue that day.

--

Dobby returned shortly with a pan of ghastly green ... mush, there was simply no other way of describing it. He took a look around and inquired the fuming bespectacled boy, "Where is cake, Master Harry? Did you eat it?"

"No, a great big ferret ate it," Harry retorted back, but refused to say more when Dobby pressed him about the great big ferret. Instead, he left, slamming the door behind him. It did not occur to him that Dobby did not deserve to be on the receiving end of his anger just because he agreed to a stupid bet with a great big ferret.

Unconsciously, Harry started heading back towards the tower while pondering what, exactly, he got himself into. Looking back, Harry noticed that since the defeat of the Dark Lord, he was not short of female attention. Perhaps ...

"_But that's just cruel!" _a voice popped into his head, sounding suspiciously like Hermione.

"_Not as cruel as sleeping with Crabbe, or Goyle ... or Bulstrode"_ he mentally replied back.

"_Well, you did get yourself into it in the first place,"_ reasoned the Hermione-like voice.

"_I was provoked!" _Harry's mental voice exclaimed back.

"_And so now, some poor girl will suffer for your pigheadedness."_

"_Well... maybe it won't be a one night stand... maybe I'll get myself a real girlfriend first and then bed her," _Harry scrambled a reply. He realized he was grabbing at straws, and that he was also being highly ridiculous for arguing with himself.

The other voice in his head gave a very un-Hermione snort. _"Like bloody hell you are." _Now the voice definitely did not sound like Hermione.

Harry frowned. Why was it that even his own mind doubted him.

"_I promise! I have morals after all!" _Harry retorted back.

" –_snort- Morals, indeed. And you agree to bed a girl for a bet. Great morals there Harry Potter!" _

Harry scowled, where on earth did that voice come from anyways? He was so caught up in his inner debate that he walked right into the Fat Lady.

"Hey! Watch where you're doing" The Fat Lady waved a chubby fist at him.

"Er... right. Sorry, breadsticks." Harry muttered distractedly. The portrait opened and Harry walked in, an idea forming in his head. By the time he got back up to his dormitory and into his bed, Harry felt pretty confident with his plan. But then again, he was very tired and kissing a frog also seemed like a good plan.

"Aha! Take that Malfoy! I'm going to win the bet!" Harry exclaimed tiredly to his ceiling. Draco's cake covered face was the last image before sleep blissfully took over.

--

The next morning, Harry was rudely awakened by a pillow thrown at his face. Harry grumbled and rolled over on top of the pillow.

"Wake up mate! We'll be late!" Ron's cheerful voice rang loud in Harry's ears. Ever the fast thinker, the raven-haired by pulled his covers over his head, successfully muffling Ron's voice.

_Ahhh, blessed silence!_

A sudden rush of coldness followed as Ron pulled the covers off of Harry's sleeping form. Curling into a foetal position, Harry mutters something that sounded a lot like "Cupid bit".

"What was that? You're gonna get up? GOOD!" Ron walked over and attempted to drag Harry out of bed. It was a lot harder than he thought. Despite Harry's thinness, he still weighed a ton, especially when he was laying limp like that.

Finally sick of Ron trying to pull off his pyjamas, Harry got up and swatted at Ron.

"Stop pulling my pyjamas! I know you want to see me naked, but really. Besides, I was having a perfectly good dream." Ron grinned as a reply.

"Well mate, if we're late for potions, you'll be having a perfectly good nightmare."

Harry made a face but quickly shrugged on his robes as he half-heartedly glared at Ron, who was _awfully_ cheerful.

"Since when were you such a morning person?" Harry grumbled. He was _awfully _grumble-y today. But he recalled the number of time he had to drag Ron out of his bed in the morning because he wasn't a morning person. How the times have changed.

Ron just shrugged and walked of the dorm, Harry after him.

Together, both of them trudged, or in Ron's case, bounded, down the stairs to the common room in a comfortable and companionable silence. As usual, a head of bushy brown hair greeted them joyously.

"Good morning! Ready for a new day?"

Ron replied with a jovial "GOOD MORNING HERMIONE!" , while Harry muttered a quick "good morning." He was still finding it immensely unnerving to see Ron so cheery in the morning.

However, seeing Hermione properly for the first time that morning recalled his bet from the night before.

"Oh hey guys... think you guys have a moment to talk?" Harry interrupted Ron's chatter. He was saying something about the giant squid or something. Hermione looked slightly unfocused, as if she was daydreaming, which is entirely possible considering Ron's choice of topic.

"Oh of course! How about at lunch? We're running late for breakfast anyhow." Hermione smiled brightly at him. It also strongly recalled his inner debate from last night and he internally flinched, already anticipating Hermione's reaction to his stupidity. Before he could wallow in his anxiety of telling his friends about the bet, Hermione and Ron were already out of the portrait hole, leaving Harry to hastily scramble to catch up with them.

Despite Harry's late morning wakeup, the three of them were able to make it just in time for the owl post. After almost seven years of waking up to a flock of owls dropping mail at breakfast, Harry was still awed by the magnificent sight of the birds soaring over students amongst the backdrop of the enchanted ceiling. It definitely added to the magical effect.

Harry sat himself next to Ron and was about to heartily dig into his breakfast when an owl decided to drop a copy of the Daily Prophet on his head.

"Ow! Stupid bird..can't it tell I'm NOT Hermione?" Harry glared at the brown nondescript owl that was already flying off, while rubbing his head.

"Probably not, mistook your messy hair as Hermione's frizzy hair. Can't blame the bird, you know." Ron replied good naturedly.

Hermione giggled as she took the paper from Harry and busied herself with keeping up to date with the world. Harry sighed and turned back to his breakfast. As he nibbled on his bagel, his eyes wandered and connected with a cool pair of silver eyes. Malfoy's eyes.

Malfoy's gaze was gleeful and he motioned to the paper.

A bit disconcerted and very worried, Harry turned back and was surprised to see Hermione choking on her pumpkin juice. Ron, too, was looking at her oddly.

"Uh... you ok Hermione? You're not gonna die are you?" Ron asked concernedly, a frown creasing his brow.

Hermione caught her breath and saw the concerned look on both the boys. Still slightly spluttering, she shoved the paper in their general direction and managed to gasp out, "Read. Hilarious. Ridiculous!"

Quickly, both Ron and Harry read the article.

_**Cracks or Cakes of Doom?**_

_As the wizarding world is well aware of the fact that the Boy-Wonder _("Is that what they call you now?" "Shut up and keep reading")_ defeated the Evil Lord. However, the mystery of how the Evil Lord met his demise remains just that, a mystery. How, people ask, how can a scrawny 16 year old boy who grew up in a muggle household defeat a full-fledged Dark Evil wizard that Dumbledore himself cannot destroy? _

_Initial speculations maintain that the Evil Dark Lord, fell through The Crack of Doom, conjured up our saviour, Harry Potter the Great! However, that does not seem to be the case. Fortunately, an insider, a close confidante who wishes to remain anonymous, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Harry Potter currently attends classes, has provided great insights while not so subtly hinting at Weapons of Doom. _

"_We all know that the Evil Dark Lord ABHORRED all things muggle," a sage comment provided by Mr. Percy Weasley, head of the Post Evil Dark Lord History Division. _

_From there we can only continue to speculate, but this time, there is substantial proof for the employment of Weapons of Doom. _

_Harry Potter, an untapped genius, exploited the Evil Dark Lord's weakness, muggle things. It is from a close confidante of the great hero that confirmed his use of Weapons of Doom, or more specifically, Cakes of Doom!_

_Who would have thought that the Great Harry Potter, not only has he saved the wizarding world countless times, is also a deadly baker, a great pastry to be reckoned with! Dobby, a house elf employed in the kitchens of Hogwarts has confirmed that he has been teaching our beloved hero how to bake cakes, muggle fashion. _

"_Yes, yes! Dobby has been teaching Master Harry how to bake cakes! He's been baking since last year!" the ugly looking house-elf tells us with a surprised expression. _

_When asked what Harry's secret ingredient is, we were floored!_

"_Yes, Dobby did find master Harry a bit odd for always wanting to add in eggs..." _

_Well, here you have it! Eggs, the magical secret ingredient in a not-so- magical cake. In addition, it was reported that the cake Harry baked before the Final Battle was missing ... _

Harry stopped reading, partly because the article was ridiculously ridiculous and partly because Ron had turned blue from suppressing his laughter.

"It's okay mate. The Daily prophet is being an idiot as usual," Ron spluttered out as he patted his back comradely.

Harry sighed, "Laugh if you have to, Ron," Harry said morosely. Hermione was already laughing outright. And without further encouragement, a guffawing laughter bubbled out of Ron. _"At least he tried to be supportive,"_ Harry thought wryly.

"HAHAHAHAHA! You can't bake!" Dean gasped out from across the table, while waving the article in front of Harry's face.

Harry bristled. "Way to be supportive guys." Harry hissed out through clenched teeth while savagely ripping the newspaper apart. Oh yes, Harry was going to wring some heads, starting with a certain blonde one.

Harry looked across at the Slytherin table and was not surprised to see the blond boy smirking at him.

He saw him mouth something like 'revenge is sweet', but he wasn't quite sure, but regardless, Harry's fingers twitched at his side as he imagined the satisfaction of throttling Malfoy's throat. Since that was not a feasible plan, he resorted to glaring at his housemates instead ... rather ineffectually.

"Guys, this isn't funny. I'm a sensitive guy," Harry ventured, but to no avail, the whole school was still in uproarious laugher. Ginny, however, was able to extricate herself from laughter long enough to pat Harry on the arm comfortingly.

"It's okay Harry, I still admire you! I'll just be avoiding your baking from now on," Ginny grinned, as she couldn't help cracking the last joke.

Annoyed, Harry brushed off Ginny's hand and replied hotly, "I'll have you know I'm actually an accomplished baker! I HELPED prepare the muffins today..."

The laughter died down as the students heard Harry's declaration and glanced suspiciously at the muffins in their hands before all the students and professors dropped the muffins onto their plates. Seeing this reaction, Harry scowled darkly and stormed from the Great Hall, but not before shooting a dangerous glare at the Slytherin table.

--

"Draco ... would this be by any chance ..." Pansy trailed off but waved her hand at the article in front of her, indicating her question was referring to the aforementioned article.

Draco shrugged innocently as he buttered his scone. Now that everyone received their Daily Prophet, it was just a matter of time. At first it was a tiny sound originating from his table, but then more of these tinkling sounds joined in and eventually it erupted into full – blown laughter. Malfoy smirked to himself as he took a _very_ satisfying bite into his scone. His day was looking very good right now.

However, that could not be said about his breakfast companion, Pansy, as she spluttered and seemed to be choking on her laughter.

"Oh Malfoy, it really was you wasn't it? You're the ..." Pansy squinted at the article, "_close confidante of the Boy-Who-Lived_, aren't you?" Pansy wiped the tears from the edges of her eyes, unintentionally smearing her eye makeup. The boy noticed, but didn't bother telling her, Draco found her rather adorable with smudged eye makeup, but that's neither here nor there.

Without waiting for his reply, Pansy continued, "Weapons of Doom? You're truly incorrigible..."

"What can I say? I'm a genius," Malfoy countered back smoothly as he polished off his scone. Staying up at night definitely worked up an appetite, as Malfoy eyed the last chocolate chip muffin hungrily.

"Aw shucks Malfoy, humility really isn't your colour," Pansy grinned, resisting the urge to ruffle his unbelievable soft hair. Instead she reached for a muffin.

SLAP!

"OW! Why'd you slap my hand?" Pansy cried, cradling the hand that Draco slapped. As a reply, Draco glared back.

"You were going to take _MY_ chocolate chip muffin."

Pansy let out a frustrated groan, "That was still no reason to slap me! Besides, I don't see _your _name engraved on that muffin."

What resulted was a quick but silent struggle as the two friends fought over the last chocolate chip muffin. Of course, delivering some well-placed pokes, Draco emerged as the victor.

"No fair!" Pansy pouted and picked up a blueberry muffin instead. But of course, no one paid the least attention to the two, as the Great Hall was still in stitches over the article.

However, Pansy and Malfoy promptly dropped their muffins when they heard Harry's proclamation through the dying laughter.

"I knew there was something _potty_ about that muffin," Draco muttered before helping himself to a toast instead.

"Ooh look! Potter's storming out of the Great Hall! You think the article upset him?" Malfoy's gleeful grey eyes followed the wizarding world's hero.

Pansy snorted, "No, but I think the article was highly embarrassing for him. And since he's a hero and all, storming out of the Great Hall seems properly dramatic for him," she commented amusedly _"but I still find his baking ... inclinations absolutely adorable!" _but she wisely kept the last part to herself, she knew Draco's penchant for sulking.

"Hey Malfoy, did you read the prophet yet? Bloody hilarious!" Blaise Zabini sat himself on the other side of the Draco. He was a handsome young boy, with short ruffled black hair and sharp refined features. Without waiting for a response, he shoved the paper in Draco's direction and heartily dug into his breakfast.

"Of course, Zabini, I wouldn't miss today's prophet for the world," Malfoy drawled, lazily scanning the article in absolute triumph. That would teach Potter!

"Oh, by the way, Potter made those muffins," Draco warned the other boy, who immediately dropped it and grabbed a scone instead. After watching Blaise eat with the elegance of a pig, Draco elegantly unfolded himself from the table and stretched lazily, looking at his two friends who were taking their sweet time with their food.

"Well, I'm off to Potions. Hurry up you two!"

"Coming!" Pansy and Blaise chorused together.

"I need to drop off at the common room first. I left my textbook there. Blaise can accompany me," Pansy continued as Blaise stuffed everything into his mouth as he got up from his seat. Draco just watched with amused detachment. Apparently, Blaise's pureblood upbringing did not include dining etiquette.

"I know what you're thinking Draco. I do have manners. I just don't think this crowd is worthy to see them," Blaise said with a mouth full of food as he fell into step with Draco as they exited the Great Hall.

Pansy giggled, while Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes, and that was just a perfect demonstration of said manners," Pansy joked back.

Laughing, the three of them made their way to the dungeons for Potions with the Gryffindors.

--

Seeing that no one followed him out of the Great Hall, Harry decided to go straight to Potions; at least people can't outright make fun of him there. How very wrong he was.

It wasn't that Harry minded terribly about the article, but he really was very sensitive about his baking, especially since he was too embarrassed to tell his friends and consequently, Malfoy and Dobby were the only ones who knew, unfortunately. But still, he didn't expect to be laughed at so publicly, everyone makes mistakes and he _knew_ eggs are an essential ingredient to cakes, but in the wizarding world, they didn't need it, apparently. Harry let out a sigh as he ran his hands through his messy black hair. His thoughts returned to Malfoy.

"Stupid git," he muttered under his breath, while cursed him colourfully in his mind for pulling such a stunt.

"Please don't tell me you're referring to me, Potter the Great Baker, cause if it was me, I'd _die _of giddiness by even being in your thoughts," a lazy voice drawled from behind him.

Without turning around, Harry knew who that voice belonged to. His hands started clenching involuntarily at his side.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he growled under his breath, but in the empty dungeons, it echoed loudly.

"Gladly, but Snape wouldn't appreciate his best student skiving, now would he?" Malfoy sneered as he walked closer to Harry.

Harry turned around to face the other boy, "What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked warily.

"Nothing, I'm just going to class, which happens to be your class, and I happened to pass you by. It would be _awfully_ rude if I just walked by without a greeting," the blonde boy looked intently at Harry, a smirk was tugging at the corner of his lips as usual.

"Oh and to congratulate on your _ingenuity _in beating the Dark Lord. I take back what I said last night, you're baking is truly a force to be reckoned with."

Harry just glared back stonily.

Seeing that Harry wasn't responding, Malfoy made a great show of looking away and gave an exaggerated sigh, "Apparently you don't want to talk to me; I guess I'll just get going then."

Without further ado, Malfoy pushed by Harry and sauntered into the Potions classroom, leaving Harry with an inexplicable feeling of helplessness, anger and frustration. It wasn't that Malfoy was being particularly mean, at least not more than usual, it's just the fact that he was Malfoy and always managed to rile Harry up like no other. Giving a sigh, Harry entered the Potions classroom as well, and read his potions text as he waited for his housemates. He studiously ignored the smirks and glances from a certain Slytherin boy, who was hoping to provoke him. It was a few minutes before Pansy and Blaise joined Harry and Malfoy in the classroom and another few more minutes before the rest of the class showed up.

"Harry, mate! How ya doing?" Ron asked jovially as he plopped himself down next to Harry and Hermione slid into the seat on Harry's other side.

"Fine." Was the curt reply.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, the classroom door banged open and Snape entered.

--

Potions flew by quickly. However, it was not without its pains. Needless to say, Snape did not pass up the opportunity to humiliate and make a laughing stock out of the Boy-Who-Lived. In fact, today Snape was _almost _jolly at the prospect of embarrassing the young student.

Charms and Transfiguration also flew by quickly, and thankfully, Professor Flitwick, and Professor McGonagall didn't make any remarks about the articles, but Harry did notice their lips quirking upwards in a big grin as they saw Harry.

Whatever lunchtime may bring, Harry was immensely glad for it when it rolled by.

"Harry, did you want to tell us something?" Hermione asked him, her big brown eyes looking into his.

"Er ... yea..." Harry muttered; the morning events had all but pushed the bet with Malfoy out of his mind.

Hermione and Ron both looked expectantly at him.

"Can we go out to talk?"

Nodding, the three of them hastily grabbed some sandwiches and headed out towards the lake. All three were silent during the walk.

"Harry..." Hermione started before her eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.

"Oh my god, Harry, you were going come out weren't you?" Hermione asked Harry anxiously, guilt evident in her eyes.

"Uh ... wha – " Harry stared at Hermione, at a complete loss of words, Ron was looking much the same, not sure how to react, but Hermione would have none of it and ploughed right on.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I should have known! If only I took the time to listen to you!" Hermione cried contritely.

"I'm not gay!" Harry finally managed to regain his speech function.

Hermione gave him an odd look, "I know you're not Harry."

Harry and Ron gave her a really puzzled look before realization dawned on her.

"Oh, I meant you coming out as a baker," she clarified.

"And I'm really sorry about what happened in the Great Hall today. I should have been more supportive instead of laughing along with everyone else. But you should know that I'm 1 000,000 behind your baking endeavours!" Hermione cried and Ron nodded enthusiastically along.

"That's right, mate! We're completely behind you!"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his best friends' sincerity. He was touched, but he wasn't about to let them off the hook without playing with them a bit.

"Really guys? That's really great of you! Since you're so supportive, I was hoping you guys could try my cupcakes. I've just started getting into them," Harry said enthusiastically with a gleam in his eyes. He took out his wand and made a great show of summoning two pink cupcakes towards them.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a Look, before turning to Harry, who was peering at them expectantly with his shining green eyes.

Ron gulped before answering Harry hesitatingly, "Yea, of course mate!" and they both took the cupcake, but didn't move to put it in their mouths.

Harry burst out laughing, "I was just joking guys, and those aren't my cupcakes. But rest assured, if you really got to try my making, you guys would be _begging _me for one of my baking creations," Harry raised his hand to stall any replies, "But that's not what I was going to tell you guys." However, with a tinge of bitterness, he noticed Ron and Hermione dig whole-heartedly into the cupcakes.

"Oh, it's not?" Hermione's face fell a little at this, but she regained her composure quickly. She wasn't used to being wrong.

Harry shook his head. Suddenly feeling nervous, Harry felt his stomach explode in a flurry of butterflies and his mouth went very dry. He had no idea how to break it to his friends.

"Well..." Hermione prompted.

"Hermione..." Harry took a deep breath.

"WouldyoutellMaerwlgergfoyyoghusledpwitme?" Harry let out all in one breath while staring his sneakers, shame prevented him from looking at his friends. After a moment of silence, Harry ventured to glance up at his friends. Hermione and Ron were both staring at him oddly.

"Uh... you want to repeat that again?" Ron asked gently, "slower this time preferably."

"Hermione, can you tell Malfoy thactydfsokukgsuslepbtwnithmxe?" Harry started out clear enough, but still rushed out the last part. He mentally berated himself. Of all ways to break it to his friends, this was definitely NOT the way he imagined it, at least he wasn't supposed to repeat it multiple times.

"You want me to tell Malfoy what?" Hermione frowned worriedly at him.

Harry muttered something Hermione didn't catch, but she definitely caught the last three words.

"... Sleep with me."

--

A/N: aye or nay?

Review please )

btw, the more reviews I get, the faster I update )


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Harry Potter, Humor, Romance