JUST A REMINDER YOU ARE READING THE OLD VERSION, THIS IS NOT THE MOST UP TO DATE VERSION. THE MOST UP TO DATE VERSION IS EITHER THE RED COVER (MATURE) OR THE BLUE COVER (CLEAN VERSION).

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The wind ripped through Harry's hair as the looked for the golden snitch. The field was covered in green and red, members of the school switching to which ever side they wish would win (Mostly to Gryffindor). Players were storming through the air as a rapid tornado, throwing around a quaffle as if it was no body's business.

Harry sat up 2000ft into the air, head turning and eyes searching for any unusual movement. The Gryffindors were in their usual V shaped formation, Slytherins swerving around them, attempting to break it.

He heard a zoom behind him, causing him to turn to see a blonde haired, silver-eyed git.

"So concentrated Potter! Would be a shame if someone were to distract you." He smirked. Harry just rolled his eyes in response.

"Another score for Slytherin!" Lee Jordan shouted as Ron missed yet another quaffle.

"Come on Ron." Harry muttered under his breath. But the cheers weren't normal coming from the green side of the stadium. He could hear "Weasley is our king! He always lets the quaffle in!"

All around the spirited Slytherins as Ron missed another goal. It was affecting his playing- and Harry realized that.

"Wha-" Harry started until he saw a snippet of a glittering gold in the south side of the stand. Before he could contemplate with Malfoy, he dove in aspiration to catch the snitch. Draco followed quickly behind, as though he was the caboose of a train, never leaving his tail.

The wind was muffling all the cheers from the crowd as Harry got closer and Draco caught up to be side by side. Draco and Harry began to push one another in hope to stall their chance at catching the snitch. It wasn't until they hit the floor when Harry had a golden ball surrounded in his fist.

"Harry Potter caught the snitch!" The Gryffindors won but none of the team was happy. The Slytherins were extra nasty to them, and they weren't happy about it. The song was inconciderate and vain. Harry wasn't too upset about it until he heard Malfoy biting off more than he could chew.

"Like the song Potter? Wrote it myself." Harry approached the boastful snake giving a true intimidating stare.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" 

"I really wanted to add in some more verses, but I couldn't find a thing to match the words 'stink'" he laughed smirking back at his friends.

"I said shut up," Harry growled, stepping closer to him.

"What's it like living with the Weasleys? I imagine a bunch of vermon. But then again, wasn't your mother the same way? I can imagine what kind of pig stye they used to li-"

Harry couldn't help himself he was throwing as many fists at Draco as he could. Acting on his Draco personality or his Malfoy personality; what he said was completely put of hand.

Kneeing and punching and kicking the blonde as much as he could, he didn't hear the whistle and didn't feel madam Hooch pull him away from the evil brat.

All he could focus on was the face in front of him and the blood covering his knuckles. Draco's blood.

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Draco hesitantly hid behind the ropes, peaking between them to find Harry facing the calm, small waves folding over each other on the bay, his arms crossed and tight. He was still in his quidditch uniform, as he'd just come from Umbridge's office. And Draco knew this conversation was going to be absolutely awful, but avoiding it would only make it worse.

Draco walked slowly to him, each step making the knot in his stomach bigger and bigger. He swallowed, and once at Harry's side, he reached out to touch his shoulder, console him in some way, shape, or form, but Harry snarled, refusing to look at him, "Draco Malfoy, I swear to god if you dare touch me, I'll..."

"You'll?"

Harry bit his lip. "I don't know what I'll do... killing you sounds about lovely right now. Hexing you. Punching you. Dumping you on your arse."

Draco swallowed, looking over his constrained face. "You can punch me again, if you want. I'll understand." Just don't leave me... "I bet it'll feel good."

Harry winced. "Is that in any way healthy? Is that what you're supposed to do to your boyfriend when he makes you angry?"

"It's what you're supposed to do to me. Out there, I'm not your boyfriend. I'm Malfoy. You're Potter. It's what Malfoy and Potter do."

"So it's right that I wanted you to hurt?" He looked at the sunset to find no comfort in it. "Because I'm Potter, that's what makes it right?"

Draco frowned. "I don't think it was right. I think it was justified." He bit his lip. "I went too far—"

"You think," Harry growled. "You had to go for my parents? That's what you had to go for? My friends?"

"I..."

"I broke up with you last year for a reason. I don't tolerate things like that, not my friends, not my mum." Harry's arms tightened over his chest tighter. "I thought that was clear. I was wrong. Do you think just because we've gotten more comfortable with each other... is that it? Is that why you did it?"

"Harry, I wasn't thinking," Draco started, his voice small.

"That bit is obvious." An uncomfortable silence passed in between them. "Did you really write that song yourself?"

"No. Flint did." Draco took a step towards him. "He just wanted me to claim it because it got a rise out of you."

"Hm. And did he also make you say the bit about my mum?"

Draco took a step back and didn't answer his question. "It was the biggest game of the year —"

"So you did it. Can't you at least admit to that like a human being?"

Taking a shaking breath, Draco spoke. "I thought of bringing up your mum."

Harry took a deep breath. "Why," he bit, his eyes dropping to the grass below him.

Hesitant, he answered, "Because I know it would hurt you."

"Spot on, weren't you?"

Another silence.

"Harry... I understand if you want to break up with me."

He cracked his neck, then continued refusing looking at Draco. "You did something wrong. I did something worse. Who should be breaking up with who?"

"I don't want to break up with you." Draco's throat closed. "I'm not going to. We're even."

"And you think that's okay? You think that that's healthy? Being even?"

"Merlin," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know Harry. I'm not angry with you for what you did."

"What we have isn't healthy. I wanted you to hurt. I wanted your blood on my hands. I didn't see you as Draco, I saw you as Malfoy."

"Well if you hadn't noticed, Harry, neither of us are healthy people. We don't know what's okay and what's not. I'm your first boyfriend, and you're mine. We're figuring things out."

"I don't want to hit my boyfriend!" He shouted it. "I don't want to be like the Dursleys, I don't want to be like Umbridge. I imagine you don't want to be like your father."

"Neither of us have any clue of what a normal relationship looks like. What wonderful role models we have!"

"I don't care about them," Harry argued. "I care about you. I care about how I treat you. I should have held myself to higher standards. I just got angry..."

"The whole lot of gryffindors were going after me, not just you."

"Yeah, well you're not dating them, are you?"

"No but—"

"There are no buts, Draco. What we both did was inexcusable."

"Not out there. It was normal for everyone out there."

Harry took a few more deep breaths, a silence passed between them. "I'm sorry I'm Harry Potter."

"I'm not," Draco said, firm. "I happened to really like Harry Potter."

"I don't. I hate Harry Potter. I hate everything about Harry Potter." Harry kicked the grass under his feet.

"Don't say that."

"I do. I really hate him.

"Harry," Draco breathed.

"Could you imagine how wonderful of a relationship we could have if we weren't who we were? We could cheer each other on during matches instead of try to hurt each other. We could eat breakfast in the Great Hall, hold hands in the corridor." Harry bit his lip. "You deserve so much better than Harry Potter." Harry finally looked at him, solemn all over his face. Draco had a black eye by his own doing. "Damn it! Why didn't you get this healed?"

"It would have taken too long," Draco said. "I had to see you."

Harry reached out to touch his busted lip. He dragged his thumb over it, and Draco tried to keep from wincing. "God, I could just hear Hermione and Ron now, if they knew. 'It's a toxic relationship, Harry.' 'Malfoy and you aren't right for each other, Harry.' 'You're not supposed to fall in love with him, Harry.' 'He's negatively affecting you, Harry.'"

"Isn't that why you didn't want to tell them in the first place?"

"Yeah, but that was before I kicked your arse... I could only guess how horrified they would be. Because they're normal. They're not messed up like we are." Harry reached into his robes and cast a few healing charms in silence. When he finished, he put his wand away and looked Draco in the eyes for an achingly long amount of time, with no movement. Just searching. "God, we're so messed up."

"Stop saying that."

"It's true!"

"I know it is, but that's one of those things that we both know but don't really say it out loud. Like how sometimes you have bad breath and how absolutely gorgeous I am. It's just unspoken truth."

Harry gave a small laugh, but then his face fell. "Hell, usually when couples fight, it's about the one being lazy and the other being a control freak, and then they end up apologizing with flowers and chocolates. We fight over you making fun of my dead mother and being a racist, and I physically abusing you."

"Harry, it's not like you hit me for kicks. I'm telling you, I deserved it. And you were being Potter then. If you wouldn't have done it, I would have been disappointed."

"That sounds sadistic!"

"It's us, Harry."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I'm okay with you," Draco grabbed the tip of his chin and leaned down to kiss him, but Harry shied away.

"Draco, stop."

"Harry, what are you so bloody upset about," Draco asked, abruptly louder. "Damn it, you punched me, which I was totally fine with. We've had this relationship for a while now. We're doing what we're expected to do. We made a deal. This is consensual. Whatever we have to do to keep people off our backs."

"I took it too far!"

"Harry," He grabbed both sides of his face. "If you're really that worked up about it, I forgive you. I do! I don't care. I shouldn't have done that to you or your friends or your mother. It was disrespectful and I broke one of your only rules. I knew what I was getting into. But damn it, calm down. You're sorry?"

"I'm so sorry," Harry looked him in the eyes, desperate.

"I accept your apology. I'm sorry, Harry. Do you accept mine?"

Harry bit his lip, blinked a few times, and then nodded. "Yes."

"Do you forgive yourself?"

"No."

"Damn it, Harry."

"No, I don't. I'm not going to. Not now, at least."

Draco, rather than getting angry at him, deflated. "I hope you find peace with yourself with this. I don't think you should lose sleep over it. But my opinion shouldn't matter. I'm messed up. Apparently."

"No, not you. Us. Me."

Draco wanted to roll his eyes but refrained from it. "Whatever, Harry. Can we kiss and make up now or?"

"I..." Harry wanted to argue more. He had things he wanted to say, points he wanted to assert, but damn it, Draco was really close, close enough now for their noses to brush against each other. The skin of his lips touched the very peak of Harry's, but that's finally when he decided to speak up. "Banned."

"Hm," Draco furrowed his eyebrows.

"Banned," Harry said again, and Draco opened his eyes. "She banned me."

"From what? Who?"

"Umbridge. She banned me from quidditch... forever," his voice broke, as he couldn't hold back the tears that formed in his eyes. It sparked a fire inside of Draco.

"When? Where?"

"Just now in her office."

"And you haven't exploded yet? Not metaphorically, like yelling at me, but actually physically exploded? I thought the last day Harry Potter played quidditch would be the last day of human existence."

"Well," Harry choked, "If that's true, a meteor should be flying out of the sky and wiping out the entire face of the earth right now."

"Oh, Harry," Draco pulled him into a tight hug, which initially, Harry didn't respond to. But when Draco squeezed him and put his head against Harry's shoulder pad, he couldn't help become undone.

"I hate her so much," he wrapped his arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered in his ear. "So sorry."

"It's not your fault," Harry sniffed. "You didn't impregnate Umbridge's mum."

Draco gave a laugh, "No. Definitely didn't do that." He kissed his forehead and released him, leaving Harry to suck on his bottom lip. The tears fell from his eyes, and he wiped them, away and covered his face so Draco couldn't see him, but that only made things worse. For the first time Draco saw the inscription on his hand. His anger dropped to one of confusion. He'd open his mouth to speak, closed it, turned his head sideways... "I must not — What's that? On your hand there? Are those words"

Harry's heart immediately accelerated and, in a panic, Harry shoved it behind his back, stepping away from him. "Nothing," he said.

"Nothing?" Draco's eyebrows shot into his hair. "Doesn't look like nothing. If it was nothing, you'd let me see your hand and then I could see that it was nothing."

"Draco, really —"

"Harry. What's on your hand?" Draco stepped towards him, and Harry took a step back. "Harry Potter, you'd better show me your hand right now!" Harry didn't know what to do, so he started running from him, but Draco read it easily and caught up to him by the time they passed the ropes and hit the first tree. Although darker, Draco could see Harry easily, and he pushed Harry against the bark, and, under the shadowed canopy, grabbed his hand and felt the bumpy scarring. "I must not... tell lies?"

"Could this day get any worse?" Harry covered his eyes with his other hand.

"Harry, did you do this to yourself?"

"No," Harry croaked.

"Who did it?"

"Who do you think?"

"Umbridge did this," he growled. "When? Right now? What did you lie about?"

"No. Earlier... when I missed our first date." He refused to look at him. "That's where I was. In detention. Writing lines in ink made of my own blood."

Draco stayed quiet for a moment, processing the information in a dangerous amount of time. Before he spoke, he took a sharp intake of air. "You said she was in her office?"

"Yeah —"

Before Draco had the chance to lunge forward, Harry grabbed him. "Damn it, Harry! Let me go. She has to pay for this!"

"No!"

"No? No!? The hell do you mean 'no'? She's tortured you and you didn't tell me," Draco bit. "How could you keep this from me, Harry?"

"Because I knew you'd get uncontrollably upset like you are now —"

"And?"

"I just want to be happy with you! I didn't want to fight about it at the time, and I sure as hell don't now."

Draco's skin radiated in anger. "You can't just sit back and take this! Not on your own!"

"What are you going to do about it, Draco? What can you do about it?"

Draco crossed his arms. "Who the hell are you and what have you done with my boyfriend? Harry... if this was Snape or any other teacher for that matter, you'd probably have pranked them 600 times already, or at least shown that you're not someone to mess with. Why are you submitting to her? Submitting to torture?"

"You want to know why," Harry interjected. "Fine! Because she has the power to do all of this. Fudge gave her permission. No one can do anything about it. You want to know what she just did? Banned me from quidditch, one of my favorite things in the entire world!"

"And that's a wonderful point! So what, you hex her and get another detention. What else could she do?"

"Hm. That's a great question, Draco, I'm glad you asked. You see, there's this thing called 'expulsion' and I dunno if you've heard of it, but I have. It means I could never ever go to Hogwarts ever again. It means they could snap my wand in half, I'd never be able to practice magic again."

"Dumbledore would speak for you —"

"Right, the Dumbledore who's been separating himself from me the entire year. The man who won't look me in the eye."

"Hell, Harry," Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh yeah, and there's this one thing, too, that's the most important out of all of this. I'd never be able to see you again. Never. Because you sure as hell wouldn't come to the muggle world, and I wouldn't ever be able to step foot near Hogwarts, or your manor. Draco, I can't do that," he choked. "I-I can't lose you, too. Not to her."

Draco grabbed both his cheeks and kissed him softly, rubbing his thumb along the bone. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry leaned against his shoulder, looking past Draco and through the ropes to see the sun had set. Regrettably, Harry said, "It's getting dark. Ron and Hermione will be wanting to see me."

Draco frowned. "I understand."

"I'll see you when I see you?"

"I guess." Draco kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and then his lips. "Try to get some sleep."

"Right. That'll happen."

"Try to, Harry. Please."

Although with a face of dismay, Harry nodded and left, Draco watching him pass through the ropes.

He exhaled and wiped hair away from his eye, wincing at the bruise as he forgot how tender it was, before he surveyed the trees and the meadow, a bundle on the grass stopping him. Upon approaching it, Draco found it to be Harry's invisibility cloak. He panicked and immediately started on his way to return it before Harry got caught on the grounds after dark.

And then Draco hesitated.

Harry was clever, there's no way he wouldn't make it back to the common room, he'd be fine. And if he came back to the forest to retrieve it, Draco could pretend he didn't see it.

A wonderfully horrible idea crawled into Draco's head. One that involved an invisibility cloak and a simple revenge.

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The next time they had Umbridge's class, Harry felt like ripping his hair out. He hated her so much. Banned from quidditch...

It was hard for him to make it through the first half, as Umbridge lectured about who knows what—he surely wasn't paying attention. He zoned out, thinking of the days Lupin taught instead of Umbridge.

He could almost hear the laughs coming from everyone as they worked on bogarts, but then he laughing became more clear. Because people were actually laughing, it wasn't his imagination at all.

Harry's focus returned to the lecture, which had been interrupted by Umbridge's quill floating in front of her, poking her, stabbing her repeatedly. She squealed and squeaked.

"This isn't funny," she snapped, grabbing a book. "All of you, wands away." But they were all away. There wasn't anyone who would have one out.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

The pen stopped and As the air moved around him, Harry smelt a familiar scent