Malfoy' s grin was malicious as he slammed the door shut on Potter' s face. "Nie Draco," someone beside him laughed. "I' m well aware, you bumbling buffoon. Now if you' ll excuse me, I have some busio attend t lunch hour." he said, turning back towards the door.
Dull, brooding eyes stared back at him. "Go on, you idiots!" Draed, throwing his hands out, shooing them. "Rough him up real good for us, Malfoy!" a girl called, laughing, and he rolled his eyes. "I' ll try my best." he said dryly. They all walked off and Draco grabbed the door haurning it quickly.
"Oh, you' ve returned. Isn' t that lovely." Harry sneered, voice laden with sarcasm. "Well you know the saying, if you hate something so bitterly to the point of love, set it free, and if it es back, its true bitter lovehate." Draco replied testily. Green eyes a shade darker than usual roamed his body. "Is there a reason you' re eyeing me like I' m buttered bread and you' re some poor orphan?" Draco frowned.
"I' m only w who thought it was a good idea to let you wear a pink shirt with black skinny jeans." Harry scoffed. "Yes, aren' t you quite the fashion expert. With those ugly glasses of yours I should' ve known to e to you for fashion advice."
Draco leaned forward, near Harry' s face. "I believe they s-suit me quite well, I-I' ll have you know." Potter stuttered, averting his eyes. "Ah. There' s my Harry. You act so ceous. But it' s only an act, isn' t that right, sugardumpling." he smirked.
"I-I' m not your anything!" "Oh, is that your way of saying I' m not the one who left that hickey?" Draco full a pale finger along Harry' s neck. The purplish-bruise look-alike was right under his defined jaw. "Shut up, Malfoy."
"Shut me up, then, Potter. We have a full fifty-six minutes left." Draco said suggestively. "It would be my pleasure," Harry hissed, pressing his mouth against Draco' s.
Draco propped him up against the desk and tinued on with the make-out sessio