Harry Potter The Bet

Title: The Bet  
  
Authors: Parodys and Pyrose  
  
Summary: The Boy-Who-Lived's love life is the current topic of speculation at Hogwarts and before long everyone has an opinion on Harry's love life, or lack thereof.   
  
Warning: Slash of the m/m variety. If you can't handle it, or don't like it, don't read the fic. Flames will not be tolerated.   
  
Rating: R for language and some sexual innuendo.   
  
Category: Fluff, humor, and a wee bit of romance.   
  
A/N: This came as the result of late night conversations about a deep seated obsession with a certain pairing that we aren't going to name quite yet and how Seamus always seems to come off in every slash fic that we've ever read. Plus we were also stuck in the middle of nowhere with no fanfic for the better part of two months. As for the story, Voldie is dead and the gang is just in their seventh year. We hope you like it and please review!! -in- indicates a break in the scenes.   
  
   
  
It had started with a simple comment. That's all. Really. The seventh year had begun like all the others, the sorting of the first years, the jokes about the teachers old and new and of course, the occasional crude comment delivered by the one and only Seamus.   
  
"Well who do you think Harry's given a roll with?" he commented matter-of-factly, ignoring the presence of Ron, Hermione and a rapidly blushing Harry who choked on his pumpkin juice.  
  
Dean chuckled, waving a fork at the boy. "Please, Harry's purer than blushing bride on her knocking up night."  
  
Harry's muttered, "Oh god." could be heard faintly at the end of the table as the other members of Gryffindor latched on to the topic, voicing their opinions rather loudly on what had been apparently on everyone's mind for the past two years.   
  
"And how do you know, Dean?" One of the forth years asked curiously, throwing a glance at Harry. "Got something to confess?"  
  
"Please! I've lived with the lad for almost seven years now. If he had been shagging some chick, we would have heard about it."  
  
"Have you never heard of a silencing charm?" Ginny asked, smirking slightly. "For all you know he could have had a slew of people of up there and you wouldn't have a clue. Besides who says the bed is the only place to do it?"  
  
"Ginny!" Ron gasped scandalized, the thought of sex and his little sister obviously too horrible to contemplate in the same sentence.   
  
Hoots of laughter rang around the room as Dean blushed profusely, ignoring the teasing from his friends as his girlfriend laughed and kissed him lightly. Ron, on the other hand, glared darkly at Dean mumbling dire warnings under his breath, all of them sounding fairly painful and slightly gory.   
  
"Hey Ron! Hermione!" Seamus grinned. "What about you regulars at the Astronomy tower? Seen Harry up there lately?"  
  
Hermione merely raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, when Ron's up there he doesn't have time to notice anything else."  
  
Seamus nodded cheekily to the headgirl while digging Ron in the ribs. "And all this time we thought she was making you study. You lucky bastard."  
  
"That still doesn't answer the question." Lavender piped up. "Is the Boy-who-lived up for grabs or has someone already tasted the merchandise?"  
  
With the occasional yells from the other tables, the debate grew more animated and with more vivid descriptions as the supper wore on.   
  
"Please we all knew he was with Cho for almost three months last year." one Ravenclaw commented. "We all saw them."  
  
"That didn't mean they slept together." another retorted. "Look at the facts. She dumped him which means either they didn't do it and she was ticked off, or they did do it and he sucked at it.  
  
"Sucking isn't always a bad thing. Especially with a mouth like his." a girl said, much to the amusement of others around her, throwing her hair over her shoulder.   
  
"What makes up think he's on your camp anyway?" A definitely male voice piped up from across the room, making Harry sink down even further into his plate.  
  
Seamus laughed and winked in Harry's direction. "Trust me, if something that tasty was on my side of the fence, I would have known about it."  
  
Whistles and cat calls echoed throughout the room as Harry turned an almost pleading look at the staff table who seemed to be oblivious to the chaos that was occurring right under their noses, although Harry could almost swear he saw an evil glint in Snape's eyes as he carefully dissected the chicken on his plate and Dumbledore seemed highly amused at the sight of his mashed potatoes.   
  
Ron, who had been trying to uphold Harry's honor finally gave it up and banged on the table, shouting at the top of his voice indignantly. "Harry's a bloody virgin." He paused a second and then looked down at Harry who was wishing not for the first time that night that he had his Invisibility cloak on. "Aren't you Harry?"  
  
Several girls exploded into giggles at this point as all eyes turned to him expecting confirmation of some sort. Harry could see out of the corner of his eyes, the girls nudging each other and looking him up and down frankly as he worked his mouth open and shut a few times.  
  
Harry, as much as he was thankful for his friend's....help, couldn't stop wishing that his virginity wasn't the equal of front page news with the polls open for opinions. The last thing he needed was Mrs. Weasley sending a kind letter explaining the facts of life to him. He could hear it now the blow by blow details explained in her calm and sweet manner at the Gryffindor breakfast table, diagrams included.  
  
"I...uh...." and proceeded to do the only thing he was remotely capable of at that point. He ran.   
  
-in-  
  
The rest of that day had been spent either ducking from suddenly aggressive girls intent on going out with him, or listening to Seamus and Dean laughing hysterically every time either one of them happened to look at Harry. Luckily it had been a Sunday and he had been able to disappear into Hagrid's company for most of the day, albeit spending most of it up to his hips in mud trying to capture creatures for Hagrid's third year class.   
  
Monday dawned with Harry waking up to a blow-up doll that had been charmed to dance around his bed and sing "It's Raining Men", Harry had a sneaking suspicion came from Fred and George's shop since he vaguely recalled hearing the twins talk about it the last time he was over at the Burrow. He could have been wrong, but since it had followed him down the stairs and into the common room before Hermione had thankfully found a counter charm, he was pretty sure he was right. He was also pretty sure that the twins were going to suffer painful deaths. Or at least maiming of some sort. Especially after the fact that Colin Creevy got several pictures of the whole fiasco and promised Harry that he would definitely put them in the House photo album.   
  
If Harry had thought his life couldn't get any worse, he was proven wrong as the morning owl post came in. A tawny barn owl delivered Hermione her Daily Prophet, the bird narrowly missing a large pot of porridge as it flew off after getting paid, almost as if in a hurry to leave. Hermione made odd squeaking noises as she saw the front page, her face getting redder and redder as she read through the article.   
  
"What is it?" Ron asked curiously, craning his neck to try and see what she was looking at.   
  
"That utter cow...."she trailed off disbelievingly.   
  
"Please don't tell me Rita Skeeter wrote another article about me. There isn't any point." Harry frowned as Hermione scooted away each time he tried to lean and read the paper. "Voldemort's gone, what could she possibly write abou...."  
  
Hermione finally slid the paper over to Harry, sighing resignedly and reaching to get some toast.  
  
Boy who lives a virgin!!  
  
By Rita Skeeter  
  
Sources claim that what some might say is the most eligible bachelor in the wizarding world is saving himself for the right witch. Since the demise of Voldemort, Harry Potter has been the accolade of the wizarding community, he has resumed his last year at Hogwarts, continuing his studies for the upcoming Newts in June.   
  
Previous interviews with this hero, reveal that this obviously shy teenager is being modest when it comes to his ability with his fellow female classmates. It is well known that his best friends are Hermione Granger, and the Gryffindor keeper Ronald Weasley. Rumors circulated in his fifth year that he went out with a fellow seeker from Ravenclaw, but it did not last. Since then, little has been heard about the boy-who-lived's love life if there had been one at all. Although Harry was unable to be contacted to give a comment, a close friend stated, "Harry is still young. If he is involved with someone, no doubt we will find out in due time. If he isn't, then he will be eventually." What this reporter is wondering, is who will catch this boy's eye?   
  
Ron guffawed, spraying bits of eggs everywhere as he read the piece as Harry glanced nervously around the room, trying to see who had received their morning edition of the newspaper. Judging from the squeals of laughter from the various tables, at least one person at each house had gotten one. "At least a close friend thinks you have a chance of getting laid." Ron snorted. "Interesting how easy it was for you not be contacted for comment when she never owled you."   
  
"I thought you had a deal with her??" Harry hissed at Hermione who was buttering her toast in an effort try and maintain some normalcy.   
  
"I told her she couldn't write stories for a year, or I would reveal that she was an Animagus. It's been two years, I didn't think she would pull any more stunts."  
  
"Well it's not like she's written that Harry's off his rocker again has she? It's not too bad."  
  
"Not too bad??" Harry snapped. "Not too bad? How is her telling the world that I'm a virgin not bad?"  
  
"What's wrong with being a virgin?" Ron asked indignantly, his face coloring slightly.   
  
"Nothing, as long as it's not announced to the world via daily headlines. Of course if you would like a front page announcement concerning yourself, I would be happy to oblige."  
  
"Nobody would care, mate!" Ron said happily slapping Harry on the back. "I'm just a side-kick remember?"   
  
Harry just hung his head, Snape was going to have a field day with this in class.   
  
-in-  
  
The rest of the morning had gone uneventfully until Harry was on his way to the library to meet up with Hermione and Ron, when he ran across Professor McGonagal standing outside her office staring into space.   
  
"Hello Professor." Harry smiled as he walked by, heaving his book-bag to another shoulder.   
  
"You poor dear."  
  
Harry looked down at the books he was carrying and the amount of homework they represented. "Yeah."  
  
"Come in, my dear." Prof. McGonagal tutted gently, drawing Harry closer and gently but firmly guiding him into the room, shoving Harry into the leather seat in front of her desk. "I know it's the time of your life when your hormones are raging about."   
  
"Uh..." Harry threw a desperate glance at the door, wincing as it shut a bit too firmly for his liking. His stomach did another jump as McGonagal put a silencing spell on the room. "Um.."  
  
Her eyes grew suspiciously bright as she sat down at her desk, pausing for a moment in an effort to regain control of her emotions. "You poor, poor boy. I should have known. All this time and I never once thought to..." she choked up for a moment, before straightening her shoulders. "But I will take care of your education."  
  
"Ed...education..." Harry trailed off almost desperately, hoping that it wasn't what he thought it was.  
  
"Sex." McGonagal stated firmly, shoving her glasses up her nose. "Is a wonderful and beautiful thing between two people."  
  
It was, Harry pondered, one of the most bizarre conversations he had ever been in, and that was including a brief foray with Lockheart after he had his memory obliviated. McGonagal's conversation...or rather lecture had evolved from a series of quotes from various Shakespearean plays, most of which involved unrequited love, or worse yet, love with a tragic ending, to her acting out some of the more intense scenes from Romeo and Juliet. After Romeo's rather tragic death, she sat gasping on her desk fanning her face as she looked for some kind of reaction, or at the very least applause.   
  
When Harry did little more than blush, she shook her head sadly and sighed. Harry got the distinct feeling that she was itching to pull him into her lap and croon lullabies, or at the very least educate him since he was woefully lacking in any sort of romantic skills..   
  
"Harry, dear?" McGonagal said softly, her eyes bright. "Harry I know that your parents died before there was ever a chance to talk about things, but I want you to know, to feel free to talk to me about anything. Anything."  
  
"I know that you went through some changes with puberty and with those changes come feelings. Strong urges that will make you want certain things that you may not know how to express fully. I understand."  
  
All I want, Harry thought, is a little room, with a window and a nice little chair. With flowers on it and a pretty singing bird that chirps to me. He tossed a desperate look out the window, contemplating for a brief moment if the fall from this height would, in fact, kill him or just break a few dozen bones and whether or not it would actually stop McGonagal from talking.   
  
Harry was startled out of his reverie by McGonagal's hand on his brow, brushing back the dark locks. She smiled sweetly at him. "I expect you've had your first wet dream?"  
  
-in-  
  
Due to the... episode in McGonagal's office, Harry had been forced to run directly to Potions, sliding into his seat just before Snape entered the class. Snape looked as dour as ever, walking between the desks as each potion brew in their respective cauldrons. The class had been attempting to make an extremely difficult healing potion, but as of yet still hadn't mastered it. It was the only reason Harry could think of, as he poured his potion into a flask to be graded, that Snape hadn't mentioned anything about the article in the newspaper.  
  
"Potter!" Snape barked as the students began their daily scramble for the door after class. "Stay. Sit"  
  
"Or not." Harry muttered under his breath, before rolling his eyes at his friends. "It's nice to know I'm moving up in his world isn't it? I bet by the end of the year I'll be up to cat or bird on his food chain."  
  
The last person had barely shut the door when Snape slapped up a complex diagram of arrows, boxes and squiggles on the board and launched into an elaborate, and a very technical flow of words that Harry couldn't quite put together. Cocking his head to one side and then the other, Harry watched the lines move determinedly across the board, apparently understanding Snape's lecture better than he did.   
  
Several minutes later, Snape finally put down his wand and looked fairly pleased with himself, ending with, "...and so the organism fulfills it's anthropological and natural duty to evolution, while preventing unnecessary proliferation of the aforementioned creature. Paramountly, annexis pregantus Potter!" He eyed Harry intently and then shrugged. "With or without spasms of varying proportion. Without, according to most females."   
  
Harry stared at him blankly. "Wha...?"  
  
"I feel it's my duty to prevent any more Potter brats from ruining my future as a teacher and most likely my sanity. God knows the Weasleys will breed through to Doomsday. Or my death. The last thing I need is for you to proliferate any further." A look of horror crossed Snape's face as he obviously contemplated a life with several Potter children clutching at his robes. With dirty diapers. And drooling. Shuddering, he stuck a pale finger at Harry's chest. "Annexis pregantus!!!"  
  
With that, Snape handed him a long roll of condoms and walked out, leaving Harry to stare at the diagram hoping against hope that Snape of all people hadn't just given him a lecture in safe sex procedures. Glancing down at the long strip, he sincerely doubted it. "Great." He muttered. "All that's left is Dumbledore and the rest of the world."  
  
-in-  
  
Potions had been the last class of the day, and Harry had spent the rest of the evening in the Gryffindor common room trying to finish reading his homework for Transfiguration when a flurry of feathers and wings erupted from the window behind him, as Errol rather unceremoniously slammed into the table beside him. The past few years hadn't done the owl any good, but since it had refused to retire gracefully, Mrs. Weasley had been forced to let the owl do short trips, usually to the school and back.   
  
It hooted gratefully as he untied the letter, crumpling into a disheveled heap after eating a few owl treats.   
  
   
  
Dearest Harry,  
  
I just wanted to see how you were after the article in the Daily Prophet yesterday. Rita Skeeter asked me for a statement, and I thought that I should give one instead of her going to someone who didn't even know you. I also told her that if anyone wanted to owl you about the article, they could do so through me, since I don't want you to be inundated with owls at this point in your studies.   
  
As I expected, letters have been flying in and I want you to know that I'm taking care of it. Suitable letters will be kept and filed, and the unsuitable ones will be thrown out. Don't worry, I'm taking care of everything.   
  
Give my love to Ron and Hermione.  
  
Love  
  
Mrs. Weasley  
  
P.S. I'm sending up Arthur to come and talk to you. Don't be embarrassed, dear. He's spoken to all of the boys, and it wouldn't hurt for him to remind Ron on some things as well..  
  
"I blame you for this Ron." Harry waved the parchment at his best friend accusingly.   
  
"Hey is that Mum's handwriting?" Ron asked oblivious to Harry's narrowed green eyes, getting a glimpse of the letter. "What's she writing to you for?"  
  
"Your mother," Harry paused for a moment to glare at Ron. "Was my close friend of the Daily Prophet. She said not to worry because she's handling the offers. What offers??" he asked slightly hysterical.  
  
Hermione sat beside him, taking the letter from his shaking hands and reading it swiftly before nodding to herself. "Well you can't tell me you weren't expecting it."  
  
"Expecting what? Why would anyone care who I am with?" Harry looked at Hermione piteously, ignoring the occasional snorts of laughter coming from behind Ron's book which he had ducked behind.   
  
"Oh Harry." Hermione patted his hand gently. "She's handling you marriage offers. It's quite common you know. Most families, especially those with a long family history, are married off or engaged by their seventh year in school. "  
  
"M-marriage?" Harry whispered.  
  
Hermione looked mildly surprised. "Well yes, it's customary for most wizards. I'm surprised you hadn't heard any offers before now."  
  
"Well why hasn't Ron gotten paired off with anyone yet?" Harry asked indignantly. "His family is... as wizardy as mine was. More really."  
  
Obviously settling down for a long explanation, Hermione conjured up tea and biscuits on the table. Harry could almost see her mentally searching for a book and wasn't surprised when the next words out of her mouth were, "In 'Hogwarts, a History' there are several cases where the school has hosted married couples in their final year, sometimes even officiating the ceremonies themselves. Ron's family may be pure bloods but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley also married for love. No doubt they're letting Ron choose whom he wants to marry."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron blushing a deep red as he tried to hide behind his book. "And why can't I?"  
  
Hermione sighed expansively. "No one is saying you can't Harry. But the fact is that most people won't know or care about how you feel about things and will consider you a prime candidate for marriage. That and the knowledge that you're a virgin will make you all the more attractive. Plus you're not that bad looking." Hermione ignored Ron's squeak of protest with a wave of her hand. "Not that I would ever care or notice."  
  
"I don't want this!" Harry moaned, sinking down into the chair to look at the letter which seemed to have gotten a lot more threatening since he had first read it. "I'm not ready to get married!"   
  
"So don't." Ginny said, coming up behind the trio stealing a biscuit from the pile on the table, taking care to take one that Errol hadn't pecked at. "Mum said you'd probably be a little stressed right now. You okay?"  
  
"Not really." Harry muttered. "I hate feeling like a piece of meat."  
  
"It'll blow over in a few weeks." Ginny stated matter-of-factly, perching on the armrest of Harry's chair. "If it makes you feel better I talked Mum out of putting in a bid for me in the long list of proposals. I convinced her that my crush on you died out quite a while ago."  
  
"Than...." comprehension dawned on Harry's face. "Oh god."  
  
Ginny patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll take it as an 'oh god I'm glad that I won't have to see a friend whom I view as a sister in any kind of sexual light'." She winked at Hermione. "I better go, Dean needs some calming down."  
  
"Bye...." Harry and Ron said faintly.   
  
"Well you better write Mrs. Weasley and let her know how you feel, especially before she starts sending the letters from the qualifiers." Hermione said dryly.  
  
Harry sat up suddenly and grabbed a piece of paper from his bag, rapidly scribbling on the surface. "And before Mr. Weasley gets here." Harry said absently.  
  
Ron turned a pale white. "Dad was coming?"  
  
"For a sex talk."  
  
Roaring with laughter, Ron was doubled up on the floor clutching his stomach as tears poured from his eyes.   
  
"Don't worry, she told him to include you as well." Harry assured him, smiling to himself as Ron's laughter instantly died. Ron's face was a mask of panic as he leaned over Harry writing. Hermione just chuckled and left the two of them muttering over the parchment, desperately trying to get it done in time for the morning post.   
  
   
  
-in-  
  
Harry was noticing that people were starting to act...odd around him. It was nothing like the time everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin and killing people, but more like people were appraising him, reminding him uncomfortably like a slab up meat up for grabs. A large, hunk of meat dangling in a pit full of wolves. He had given up talking to anyone but Hermione and Ron since a conversation with any else inevitably ended with the student dissolving into giggles and rushing off. Plus, everyone seemed obsessed with money as of late. Every time Harry entered a room, he could hear snatches of conversation regarding galleons, sickles and knuts.  
  
Even the teachers could be found looking at him occasionally, their eyes narrowed in silent contemplation. But, if Harry had time to worry it wouldn't have been about the odd behavior of everyone around him. Both Sirius and Remus had taken it upon themselves to educate Harry about aspects of love. Each one had spent considerable time showing Harry the proper way to court someone that he was interested in, although in both cases since it had been so long since either of them had gotten together with anyone, they were reduced to tidbits of advice that were several decades out of date.   
  
The reason Harry knew this was because love letters of all kinds were popping up where ever he went, and flowers seemed to appear whenever he sat down for a meal in the Great Hall. He seemed to be suffering from a permanent blush since some of the letters had gone from the ever subtle "Roses are red" theme to rather interesting photos that grinned up at him anytime he glanced at them. Harry couldn't even look at the Hufflepuff Beater in the eye any more, let alone half of the Slytherin team. The flowers were getting to be so bad that it was starting to look like one end of the house table bloomed any time he ate.   
  
Driven by desperation, and hoping to find a comforting ear Harry walked down to the kitchens to find Dobby to see if he could find a solution to the overflow of letters and flowers. The usual bustle of house elves greeted him and it was several minutes before he could locate Dobby. Dobby was wearing a pair of socks that Harry had gotten him several years ago and he bowed and nodded enthusiastically as Harry greeted him.   
  
"Dobby is pleased to see Harry Potter! Is there something Dobby can do?"  
  
Harry munched on a pie that one of the elves had brought him. "I'd be so grateful if you could get rid of all the junk that pops up everywhere I go. It's driving me nuts."  
  
"Everyone loves Harry Potter! Doesn't Harry Potter like the flowers? The flowers make things festive and romantic, they do."  
  
"Romantic..." Harry peered at Dobby thoughtfully. "or not, I need to be able to eat without worrying if I'm poisoning myself with foliage. Can you do it?"  
  
Dobby bowed low. "Dobby would be extremely happy to help, sir!"   
  
Harry heaved a sigh of relief and turned to leave when he felt Dobby hesitantly tug at his pants. "Harry Potter sir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Flowers are delivered to Harry by many people, but would Harry care to deliver flowers to any one special?" Dobby screwed up his face that twitched several times before Harry realized he was trying to wink.   
  
"Um...no. But thanks." Harry headed towards the door, when a thought stopped him. "Dobby, why would I want to send anyone flowers?"  
  
Dobby did his best to try and look innocent. "Everyone is caring who Harry Potter loves, sir. Flowers would show Harry Potter's affections most well."   
  
Paling slightly, Harry whispered. "Everyone?"  
  
"Everyone sir!" Dobby pulled out a roll of parchment from his tunic. He handed it to Harry with a wide grin. "Dobby found it, it is showing everyone who loves Harry Potter." His eyes filled up with tears. "You are a great wizard indeed."  
  
Harry took the parchment, ignoring the twist of dread coiling around his stomach. He unrolled it slowly, taking in the neatly printed words beneath the rolling scrawl of a logo that he was very familiar with. Breathing deeply, he clutched the scroll in his hand. "Dobby can I keep this?"  
  
Dobby nodded, almost jumping up and down in joy. "Of course sir!"  
  
Harry was almost at the door when one last thought made him sick at the prospect. "Are you the only one that has this right?"  
  
"Of course sir!" Dobby agreed, pleased at Harry's visible relief. "Each student has their own copy. Dobby's was his own."  
  
However, all Dobby could see of his favorite wizard was his back as he ran out of the kitchen roaring one word. "RON!!!!"  
  
-in-  
  
Everyone in the Gryffindor common room flinched as Harry blew in, his face a dark red and waving a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.   
  
Ignoring the startled gasps of the younger years, Harry sprinted upstairs and plowed past Dean and Seamus to where Ron was studying on his bed. "YOU!"   
  
Scrambling to his feet, Ron backed away from the irate boy hurriedly. "I didn't have anything to do with it. I swear."   
  
"You knew about it. You could have warned me. They are your flipping brothers." Harry shook the parchment in Ron's face. "A betting pool on who's going to be my first started by none other than the infamous Fred and George Weasley of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes."  
  
"How many have bet on this??" Harry asked shrilly.  
  
Ron mumbled something under his breath.   
  
"What??"  
  
"Everyone. Everyone placed a bet, there must be hundreds of galleons in it by now." Ron said only slightly louder, moving a pace back before he said quickly. "Even Herms made a guess."  
  
Feeling deeply betrayed, Harry collapsed onto the bed. "Hermione? Who did she think I'd end up with?"  
  
"Seamus."   
  
Harry glared at Hermione who had just entered the room. "You should have told me."  
  
She merely shrugged. "It was only a galleon. It wouldn't have stopped the betting and it would have made you even more twitchy than you are. Relax you can't stop it, so why not stop worrying about it?"   
  
The boy-who-lived seemed to have lost all emotion and sat staring at the parchment on which the every person he had met, or was going to meet was listed along with the odds of the couple. "Who did you bet on Ron?"   
  
"Parvati."   
  
"Okay." Harry said blandly and stood up, walking out of the room, past the common room and into the darkened school hallways, his eyes the only thing betraying any kind of emotion- pure and utter panic.   
  
   
  
-in-  
  
Several hours later  
  
"Super." Harry was stalking down the hallway, waving around a roll of parchment in his hands and talking to himself. "Perfect. First everyone wants to know if I'm a virgin. Then after they've all made up their minds about whether or not I've slept with someone, they decided that I'm a virgin and need educating. Voldemort. Deatheaters. Everyone's always trying to kill me and to make it worse once I've got that off my plate, they decide to add another few decades to the therapy I've got coming with this crap!! " He shuddered in the horrific recollection of the letter from Mrs. Weasley that he had gotten in the mail just a week ago. At least he had been able to convince her that she didn't need to send Mr. Weasley to the school to explain everything.   
  
He glared at a scurrying beetle that wiggled it's antennae at him. "Its not funny! And when I finally think it's all over, I found out they're making bets. Bets! It wasn't enough to tell me everything I never wanted to know about the deed, they decide to dig deeper and poke, and prod until they find out who I'm going to sleep with. Look at this!" He waved the paper at the beetle, which nodded it's head sympathetically. "I know....everyone is one here. Everyone! There are even odds on me and Snape. Or me and Dumbledore. McGonagal. It's insane. Everyone is insane and I'm the last one standing."  
  
"I sincerely doubt that Potter." Malfoy smirked from his place by the window where he had been gazing out of when Harry had stormed down the passageway.   
  
"Look!" Harry shook the bedraggled paper in his face. "Even my friends are betting against me. Know what Hermione said when I showed her this? She said that she had put down a galleon on Seamus." Harry ignored Draco's derisive chuckle. "Ron wasn't any better. He put down his allowance on me and Parvati. Parvati. She still hates me from what I did to her in the forth year Yule ball."  
  
Draco looked highly amused. "Poor Potter. Don't you like everyone waiting with bated breath to see who's pants you're going to jump into?"   
  
"Everyone has bet money on this, they told me the pot was up to several hundred galleons. I feel like a piece of meat!"  
  
"Please, at least you're not listed on that damn list as having the worst odds of hooking up with you. I am a Malfoy. I am the crème de la crème. The best of the best."  
  
Harry paused, momentarily distracted. "Really? Even worse than Crabbe and Goyle?"  
  
Draco's lips visibly thinned. "Yes."  
  
"Well I have had it." Harry flung the paper down onto the ground. "I'll fix everything, and since everyone needs to know everything, they can just be there. Because it's not going to last any longer, all of those prying eyes that follow me around, well I've had it. I have had it. No more. They have tangled with the wrong person. Just wait." He eyed Draco with a wild gleam dancing in his eyes. "Just wait, they will all get it. Everything." He laughed shrilly. "and I'll show them. I'll show them all!!!!"  
  
Laughing wildly, Harry ran off down the corridor with Draco watching him bemusedly. Despite the fact that Harry had obviously and finally cracked, whatever was coming was going to be interesting.   
  
-in-  
  
The next day proceeded slowly for the seventh years as each class came and went, waiting for some kind of visible breakdown from the Gryffindor known as Harry Potter, or as he was becoming known in the more interesting circles of society, The-boy-who-desperately-needed-to-be-shagged. Rumor had it that Harry had finally snapped with all of the attention and something big was going to happen. Or he was going to end up in St. Mungo's ward as a roommate for Lockheart (who had just published his 13 th book, The Best of the Mungo Years- a Memoir of Lockheart).  
  
Potions was the last class of the day and Snape was teaching with all his usual fervor for blood and tears from the Gryffindors. Draco stole a look occasionally over his shoulder at Ron and Harry, the latter seemingly unperturbed by the world at large.   
  
The class had almost come to a close when Snape leaned over Ron and Harry's bubbling potion, which since both boys were slightly distracted, was not the dull gray that the other's were. "Potter! Since you seem to be incapable of concocting the simplest of potions, you will have detention tonight with the first years. Perhaps they can teach you something. See me after class."  
  
Harry's anger bubbled, as his ears burned. From somewhere behind him, Seamus was snickering to Dean who was sharing a cauldron with him. "How much do you want to bet Snape wants him to clean his 'pot' for him."  
  
"Pot!!!" Harry jumped to his feet, kicking away his stool and turning to face the whispering offender. "Pot?!?!"  
  
Snape threw down his papers angrily and banged furiously on his desk. "POTTER!!"  
  
Harry, however, was far beyond hearing at this point. "Snape wants me to clean his 'pot'?! How's this for your bloody POT?!?!"  
  
Storming down to the front of the classroom, he shoved Crabbe to one side who clattered to the floor in a mess of legs and arms.   
  
"POTTER!!!" Snape screamed at the top of his lungs, clutching his wand so hard his knuckles turned white.  
  
Harry grabbed Draco by the front of his robe, and before anyone in the class could say a single word, drew him close and lunged for his face. To the shock of the entire class, Harry had latched on to Draco's rather surprised mouth and kissed him with a fervor that was beginning to make most, if not all of the students feel somewhat...flushed.   
  
"Holy..." Hermione blushed as she turned her head to get a better view of what looked like a very...good kiss.  
  
"...Fuck." finished Ron as he licked his lips unconsciously, a gesture repeated by almost everyone else in the room.   
  
"Hell," Seamus breathed checking out Harry's backside, which from his angle was, "Juicy! If I had known that would have set him off, I would have tried it months ago."  
  
Draco and Harry broke apart, both of their lips red and swollen as the class sat in utter silence. Harry looked at the Slytherin who returned his stare expressionless. Before anyone could say anything, Draco turned to look at the class, looked at Harry and then at the class again. Less than a heartbeat later, Draco drew Harry's head towards his, running his fingers through the dark locks as he kissed him.   
  
Even Snape at this point, was opening and closing his mouth in a mixture of disbelief and shock. His wand had dropped to his desk, if any of the students had managed to pull their eyes away from the couple, would have been concerned about an impending heart attack. Fortunately, though, no one was paying attention and when Draco released Harry for a breath the class sat as if they had been petrified.   
  
Draco turned to the class, smirking, putting one hand around Harry's waist. "You didn't really think he was a virgin now did you?"  
  
Dead and utter silence reigned, with the exception of a sole whisper that grew louder and louder from the back of the room. "Yes. Yes! Yes!!!! YES!!!!" Neville punched the air with his fist as he jumped from his chair, shocking everyone around him. "I won! I WON!! I WON THE BLOODY BET!!!!"  
  
-fin- 


End file.

Harry Potter, Humor