Be Civil

Disclaimer: No, dears. Just, no. It isn't mine, this isn't true! What actually happened in the seventh book on that broomstick was edited out by the publishers, and that stuff edited out is basically what will be here, right? See?

Chapter One

Somehow or other, Hermione had become friends with Pansy Parkinson. Nobody quite knew how it had happened. The way Hermione told it, Pansy had said something to her in Potions when they had been partnered up. She'd mentioned the bushy-haired girl's natural ease with the potion they were making. So, obviously, flattered, Hermione began to make pleasant conversation. Soon they were smiling at each other in classes and stopping to talk in the halls. They were, well, in all typical senses, friends. Apparently they had quite a bit in common.

Ron, of course, objected to this friendship; he didn't like his girlfriend hanging around with trash like Parkinson and Malfoy! Hermione, however, took no notice of his grief, and there were plenty of awkward moments had when Ron and Draco were brought together by their respective females.

But Hermione and Pansy weren't discouraged.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

"What? 'Mione! How?! WHY?"

"Ron, please? Won't you at least try and be civil? You know that we all have to put an effort toward school unity and open-minded acceptance, and this is a perfect place to begin."

"Butterbeer with Malfoy and Parkinson is not a perfect place for anything!" the redhead groaned, flopping down on the common room sofa. He looked toward his raven-haired friend for support, but got only a snicker. Harry knew that Hermione was excited to have made a proper female friend, but he hadn't expected her to drag Ron into the snake pit, which was essentially what she was planning on doing this Hogsmeade weekend.

Hermione stood directly in front of her boyfriend and glared. Ron seemed to shrink, just a little.

"Ronald, you're going. And you will be friendly and agreeable and tactful and everything that you are not used to being!" And with that, she gathered up her things and went to the girls' dormitories.

There was a pause in which the scratching of Harry's quill and the merry crackling of the fire was all that could be heard. Then Harry looked up, feeling his friend's gaze upon him.

"What?"

"Harry, mate…"

"Yeah?"

"You've got to come too." Harry opened his mouth to protest. "You and Ginny, come on, please!"

"Ron, I'm not the one who is whipped by a Slytherin-befriending Hermione!"

"Mate, I will not be stuck there with only Malfoy to talk to while 'Mione and Parkinson chat it up! You've got to come!"

Ron was staring at Harry now with what had to be the worst puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. It was hilarious, but nonetheless, Harry took pity. He did have that whole 'hero complex' thing going on, after all.

"I mean, what else are you going to be doing, just come on and join us, and we'll have a laugh!" Ron went on, desperately.

"Only if you do one thing for me…"

"Yeah? Anything, mate."

"Just repeat after me: Harry Potter, my best friend,"

"Harry Potter, my best friend,"

"Is the greatest human being I have ever had the pleasure to know,"

"Is the greatest human being I have ever had the pleasure to know,"

"Not to mention he's incredibly good looking,"

"Not to mention he's incredibly good looking,"

"And I don't mind if he fucks my sister hard, in my own bed, even,"

"And I don't mind if he fucks m—"

Ron pounced, and Harry laughed, his bright green eyes sparkling.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Harry kissed Ginny, and when he pulled away he fixed her woolen hat more securely onto her head. Her nose and cheeks were pink with the cold, and she smiled at her boyfriend.

"Thanks, Ginny. I don't really want to go either. You know, it's all Ron's fault." Harry grinned.

"Oh, obviously. Basically everything is Ron's fault. All the time, no matter what." She smiled back at him, and the two of them walked into the Three Broomsticks, arm-in-arm.

They searched the warm crowded place until Harry spotted Hermione waving cheerily from a booth in the corner. They reached the booth and saw that everyone else had already arrived. Pansy, Hermione and Ron sat on one side, and Malfoy was alone on the other. Obviously Ron had not been willing to leave Hermione's side to sit with the blonde. However, this left the spot open to either Harry or Ginny. Ginny conveniently went to get the drinks, forcing Harry to slide in and sit right next to his rival. The blonde sneered, and Harry glared.

There was a tense silence that briefly lifted when Ginny returned with drinks, but once she'd settled in next to Harry it descended again.

"Well. This is certainly cozy," Harry stated. And indeed, the booth was so small it had to be intended for four, not six, and all of them were flush against the other. Harry could feel Malfoy's leg against his, and he started when he felt something moving against his thigh. After a fairly well concealed struggle, the blonde was able to free his hand from between his own leg and Harry's. The corners of Harry's mouth turned up, almost involuntarily.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Alright, everyone, there's no need for this to be so awkward—" She was interrupted by several snorts and a snicker. "There isn't! Pansy and I have managed to put our past differences aside, and I think the rest of you would do well to do the same."

"Yes, Draco," Pansy said pointedly. "You won't have any fun if you keep acting the way you are!"

He looked up, scowling.

"And I mean that in more ways than one," the dark-haired girl smirked seductively. Harry felt Ginny shaking with suppressed laughter beside him, and saw Ron's eyes widen in disgust.

"See, Malfoy? You've got to be nice to me if you want to get some." Harry chanted.

Malfoy whipped his head around to glare at Harry, remembering too late that they were merely inches apart.

"Shut. The fuck. Up. Potter." The blonde whispered. Harry smirked before turning away to put his arm around Ginny.

After this, Hermione tried very hard to get a normal, functional conversation up and running, and after a slow start, it actually started to work. Of course, Hermione and Pansy carried most of the talk, with Ginny cheerfully chipping in. Harry made his snide remarks, and Draco insulted him. Ron spoke only to Gryffindors, as a general rule, except on one occasion when Pansy asked him a question and Hermione kicked him not so subtly.

Really, it did not take long at all before conversation was almost completely civil, and Harry even found himself laughing and having a somewhat bearable time.

There was a moment, though, when Draco's elbow was jostled and he spilt a few drops of butterbeer onto Harry's pants. He reached forward with a napkin and began wiping away the spilled drink before he could realise what it was he was doing. Harry stared at Draco, and Draco stared at his own hand, inches away from Harry's crotch. The blonde looked up and grey eyes met green in the moment before he finally thought to jerk his hand away. Harry speedily ran through a list of possible reactions in his head, but in the end simply looked away silently. Draco certainly felt an amount of relief at this action.

So, the butterbeers were consumed, some food was eaten, some small talk was made. But all the time, Harry felt as if the place on his leg Draco had touched was burning. And for some reason he suddenly felt very conscious of the way his leg and Draco's were touching. He tried to squirm away until Ginny asked him exasperatedly if he needed to use the washroom. Harry then realised that he did.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

He stood over the urinal and turned his face to the ceiling, savouring the peace that comes with relieving oneself. He heard the door open, though, and saw in the corner of his eye Draco Malfoy sidling up to the urinal right next to his. Harry pointedly glanced at the many empty urinals much further away from him and glared at Draco, but the boy only smirked as he unzipped. Only the sound of rushing liquids could be heard, and Harry was feeling definitively awkward. And this odd thing kept happening where the two boys would make eye contact. Again and again.

After what felt to Harry a much longer piss than he'd drank for, he hurriedly zipped up and rushed to the door.

"Potter."

Harry stopped and slowly turned around.

"You haven't washed your hands."

A/N: Hello friends! Please review, tell me what you are thinking. Here is what I'm thinking: more sexual tension, a couple more chapters, awkward situations. Ready?