-1Title: Behind Closed Doors

Author: Dark Nuriko

Category: Harry Potter

Genre: Humor/Romance

Pairings: HxD, RxH

Warnings: Language, lunacy, angst, violence, Yaoi, lemon, and AU.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and it's characters belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I do not claim to own any part of it. If I did, it would just mean I've finally become insane.

Author's Note: While reading some rather well done doujinshi's, I came to realize that even out of the wizarding world, Harry and Draco would still get into tons of trouble. In this story, they are seniors in a rather high class co-ed prep school. Enjoy.

Behind Closed Doors

Chapter One:

Mahora Preparatory Academy for Gifted Students wasn't really what one would expect of a co-ed prep school. In fact, it was more likely to say that it was more like a place for the rich to come together and socialize rather than a school for higher learning. Almost every student in the school lived in a fancy home, was driven to school every day in their chauffer driven vehicles, and had brand name bags and shoes to go along with the school's Rodeo Drive brand uniforms.

Yet, there was a set of students who attended the school who weren't quite as rich and up to par with the rest of the school. They were the scholarship attendees. Those would were given a free ticket into the school so that the school looked good for taking in those less fortunate. Granted, the scholarship students were rather smart, most within the top ten percentile in their classes, but they were still below normal standards of the rest of the school, and thus segregated from the rest of the school.

Harry Potter was just one of fifty scholarship students. He wasn't poor, not by any means, but this school cost more than he could comfortably afford. When his parents were killed, he had been left with a rather large sum of money. Being a baby at the time, Harry certainly had no plans on spending it. For the first eleven years of his young life, he had been raised by his Uncle Vernon and his Aunt Petunia, along with his cousin Dudley.

Life at Number Four Privet Drive had been anything but normal. His aunt, who was his mother's sister, had taken an instant dislike to the young man. His uncle had been no better. As for his cousin, Dudley, well Harry had become his own personal toy, to tease, torment, and pick on him whenever he wanted. Harry hadn't even had his own bedroom. He had the broom closet that was directly under the stairs.

Then, on his eleventh birthday, everything changed. His godfather Sirius Black had shown up to take Harry away from such a home. Harry hadn't tarried even a second before he packed what little he had and left with the man he still didn't know. Sirius had told him about his parents, and how they had wanted him to care for their son should something have ever happened to them. Yet Sirius had been out of town and out of touch. It hadn't been but a year ago that he had learned of Harry's parent's death. Once he knew, though, Sirius had started searching for his godchild.

Once Harry was content to live with his godfather, he soon gained a second one. Remus Lupin had fell upon some hard times around the time Harry had just started attending Mahora Academy. Sirius couldn't stand to see his friend out on the street so with a family meeting over it, Harry and Sirius had agreed that Remus could stay with them. Which was still the same today, much to Harry enjoyment. Both men had been friends of his parents and the tales they told him of his father back when he was going to the academy were always welcomed to Harry's ears.

At Mahora, Harry had become friends with another scholarship student by the name of Hermione Granger. Hermione wasn't rich, not even remotely. Yet she was sharp as a tack and twice as wise as any other student attending the school. Her parents were dentists, but that didn't mean that they made enough money for the prestigious school. Thus, she had tried for one of the hard earned scholarship places and had aced it without even breaking a sweat.

Another of his friends was Ronald Weasley, or Ron for short. Ron was one in a family of nine. That number included himself and his parents. While they were not rich either, they were related to Sirius in a number of ways, and thus he helped Arthur and Molly Weasley send their children to the best school out there. It was one of the factors as to why Harry had tried for the scholarship instead of just having his godfather pay for him. He didn't want to become an added financial burden to a man he dearly cared about.

To Harry, his friends were what mattered most to him. Ron, whose red hair and freckles made him stand out, was a little dense at times and sometimes couldn't always figure out the right way to handle something. If it annoyed him, he'd get mad. If it confused him, he'd get mad. If it… well… needless to say… if it did something to him that wasn't at all pleasant, he'd get mad. It seemed that the red hair came with one short fused temper.

Hermione was the exact opposite of Ron. She had bushy brown hair and brown eyes. Around others, she was a rather shy spoken individual. With her friends, she was loud and always ready to stand up for what she believed in, even if no one else believed in it with her. Harry admired her on many different levels.

"Harry!" Hermione called from her desk near the front. Harry smiled and headed over toward his friend. His unruly brown hair and soft green eyes were almost every woman's dream come true. Yet his long bangs hid a rather ugly scar that he had gotten back when his parents were killed. Sirius had said it was a memento of the time his parents saved his life by giving up their own. Harry did remember it. He'd remember even without the scar.

"Hey, Hermione. What's up?" he asked softly, taking the seat beside her for the moment so they could talk. Class wouldn't start for another few minutes and he hated sitting in the front so he'd move when the teacher came in. "Have you seen Ron yet?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Nothing much, and Ron's going to be late again, I just know it. The boy can't even manage to get out of bed without causing himself problems," she replied.

Harry shook his head as well, imagining the issues that would come up in the red-head's morning. "Typical morning for him though. Can't wait to hear the story later."

Hermione huffed and looked out the window. "It won't be any different, except for what he managed to trip on this time that made him run behind," she told him.

Draco Malfoy walked into the class room just then. Several girls squealed as the platinum blond haired boy was wearing tight black leather pants instead of the regulated black slacks. His white shirt was silk instead of cotton, and his tie and jacket were no where to be seen. The school let his lack of following the dress code slide, since his family donated a lot of money to the school every month.

Harry laughed at Hermione's reaction, though knew her anger at their friend was well founded. His laughter was cut off when he heard the girls squealing. Without turning around, he knew that Draco Malfoy had entered the room. He turned around anyways though, knowing that even if he didn't the confrontation between the two would still happen. One couldn't ignore their mortal enemy.

Draco didn't go near where Harry Potter was, even as he couldn't help the sneer that crossed his lips. "Morning ladies, I'm sorry you had to settle for second rate used goods. I'll attempt not to be so late again," he said, even as his remark was obviously meant toward Harry.

Hermione's eyes widened, even as she glanced toward her friend. Draco was obviously in a very foul mood, far worse than the brunette had ever seen him in. Usually, Draco wouldn't say anything, as long as Harry didn't. For him to say something meant that he was unusually upset.

"'Used Goods', eh Malfoy? Are you so sure about that? You're the only one here that's been used more than a public bathroom. Might want to be a little more careful about what you tell people about yourself."

Draco paused, even as the whole class room fell silent. Slowly he turned around, his gray eyes dark with anger. "What's this, Potter? The pot calling the kettle black, is it?" he asked in a cold tone.

Hermione gasped, even as she shrank back from that look. Damn... sometimes Draco Malfoy gave off 'Don't fuck with me' vibes... and today was no exception.

Harry though, stood firm in the glare of his enemy. "Not at all. Like I said, you're the only one in here that's used. If I was 'calling the kettle black' I'd have had to come up with a better word to replace 'used', as I'm not. Maybe, 'wonderful', 'extraordinary', or something like that. But, I don't see you as those, so really, it wouldn't match the both of us very well."

Caitlin says:

Draco moved till he was right in Harry's face. "You are dead, Potter," Draco growled, even as he raised his fist, planning to hit the offending boy before him.

Hermione cried out. "Oh! Don't do that... both of you!"

Harry disregarded Hermione's warning, shoving the desk aside so he could stand. His own fists hung open at his sides for the moment. "Go ahead, Malfoy."

Draco couldn't help but smirk. "Oh, how kind of you to give me the first shot," he said in a cold tone, before pulling back and letting go, swinging forward and connecting with the brunette, punching him in the jaw full force.

Hermione's eyes went wide, as she stood and rushed out of the room to get the teacher.

Harry was forced back a step, knocking into the chair which he pushed out of the way. He rubbed the sore spot. "Thought it would be gentlemanly of me." His fist curled, and he launched it at the blonde's stomach, hitting him squarely below the diaphragm.

Draco gasped, even as he doubled over for a second. Yet that's all it was. Draco soon straightened, his gray gaze almost dark enough to be called black. "You call that a punch, Potter? That's just a tickle," Malfoy muttered, before closing his own fist and moving to bunch him in the stomach in return.

Harry danced out of the way. "That why you're wheezing for breath, Malfoy. Tiny thing like that, and you're practically winded." He ended up behind the teen, kicking at the back of his knee.

Draco fell forward, even as he twisted and kicked out Harry's legs at the same time, so the two fell down at the same time. "You low classes son of a bitch!" he screamed, even as he shifted to get on top of Harry, so that way he could beat the crap out of the other.

Harry crashed to the classroom floor, barely missing a desk. "Pompous ass!" Harry retaliated, prepared for what Malfoy was going to try and do and grabbed the other, rolling them towards the teacher's desk. He landed on top, pinning the blond down as he gave himself a moment to breathe.

Draco groaned, even as he brought a leg up to kick the boy in the back. "You're dead, Potter," he snarled.

Hermione came back in with the teacher, even as both gasped at the brutal fight that was occurring between the two.

An awkward maneuver, Draco failed in it, and Harry brought his knees together to hold Draco's legs in place. He drew back his arm, prepared to deliver another punch when he heard the gasps and looked up at his friend and teacher. "Shit."

"Potter! Malfoy! What are you two doing?!" the teacher, Minerva McGonagall was exclaiming, even as she came up to the two of them. "Potter! Get off of Malfoy this instant. Malfoy, get up and don't even think of hitting Potter again!"

Draco growled, even as he glared at the one above him. "You heard her. Get off me, poor boy."

Hermione swallowed, already seeing a bruise forming on Harry's chin.

Harry moved off of the other teen, glaring definitely all the while.

Draco moved to get up, certain there was a nasty bruise at his stomach.

McGonagall sighed in exasperation. "I've already been talking to Headmaster Dumbledore. You are both to report his office this minute. And don't you dare start fighting! Arguing is one thing! Fist fighting is entirely different."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry said moodily, his anger still not dissipated. He brushed past Malfoy, and Hermione's concerned eyes, heading for the Headmaster's office... their 3rd visit in 2 weeks.

Draco growled and moved as well, his silk shirt was ripped and he was rather pissed off himself. As he walked toward the Headmaster's office, he picked up a book and threw it at Harry's back.

It hit it's mark with a "thwack" and Harry stopped, turned around with a glare. He picked up the fallen tome and with a snarl pitched it at Malfoy's head. "Fuck. Off. Malfoy." he ground out.

Since Draco could see it coming, he caught it in his hand. "Screw you Potter. I have no intention of doing a damn thing you say," he growled, continuing to the office.

Harry just ignored him and continued down the hall. He got to the office door and made sure it slammed right in Malfoy's face before going past the secretary's desk and into the Headmaster's office. "You wanted to see me sir?"

"Fucker," Malfoy hissed, even as blood began to spill from his nose. He opened the door and walked into the office, only to have the secretary fuss over him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. We'll talk once Mr. Malfoy joins us," Dumbledore said.

Just then, Draco did come in, a handkerchief in his hand and pressed to his nose. "Sorry I'm a little late, Headmaster," he muttered.

Dumbledore nodded.

Harry sat down, and waited for the usual speech to begin. How their actions were inappropriate, and your fellow human beings should be treated with more respect, blah blah blah,

Dumbledore smiled now as the two boys took seats. "It has come to my attention that no matter what we do, there is just no way of stopping the two of you from fighting. Therefore, I have come up with a new solution. You two shall spend all your time together. You're homework shall be halved. Meaning without the others help, you'll only complete half of the homework. You will be work partners in all things and everyone, teachers and students alike... will not be allowed to help you. From now on, you two are quarantined. I have spoken to both of your families. You two will even share a room in the dorms on campus. We will stop this behavior out of the two of you. No matter what it takes."

At those words, Draco's eyes widened. "Wait a moment, Headmaster. You can not expect me to go along with such silliness!" he exclaimed.

Dumbledore smiled more at this. "I do. In fact, your father said to tell you that you had better agree to this... or you will find a worse punishment at home."

With those words, Draco closed his mouth and looked down, deciding it was wiser to deal with it than face his father.

"That's insane! Just because his father says he has too, doesn't mean I'll do it!" Harry exclaimed once the two had finished. He'd never heard a stupider idea - leaving it to teachers to think this one up - and he refused to go along with it. Then again, he might loose his scholarship, which would disappoint Sirius, and Remus... Damn it.

Dumbledore shook his head, even as he smiled over at Harry. "I've spoken to your godfather as well, Mr. Potter. Should you not like the idea, your Godfather said we are to pull your scholarship without fail. With less than a year left, I will be sorry to let you go."

Harry grumbled to himself, looking down at the floor. "Fine. I'll try, I suppose."

"Good. Oh... and one more thing boys. Should there be one more physical fight between you two, you'll both be expelled. Without another chance. Is that understood?"

Draco merely nodded and bowed his head, moving to leave as Dumbledore dismissed them, telling the two boys they would get more information from his secretary about their new room.

Harry sighed and followed Draco out to the main office area. This. Sucked.

The secretary smiled softly. "Well now boys. Think you two can work things out?" she asked, even as she handed them each their own paper with the dorm and dorm room number on it.

Harry scoffed. "Yeah right. Not like we have a choice is it?" He said, taking the paper from her and looking it over.

"Oh, it really isn't that bad. You just have to realize that not all rich boys have perfect lives." She then turned to the silent Draco. "And you need to learn that not all scholarship people are dirt poor and untouchable."

Draco didn't say anything. Instead he merely nodded and with the paper in hand, he turned to leave. He knew his father well. If he had agreed to this, his stuff would already be waiting for him in the dorm room.

Harry listened to her, knowing that naturally she was right but not wanting to admit it just yet. He followed Malfoy out the door, wondering how on earth they would live through this.

Draco slowly walked into the room and looked around. There was a small kitchen area, followed by a area with a desk large enough for two. There was a door on either side of the room and further back were two beds. One on the right and one on the left. Moving to one door, he saw that it opened up into a bathroom with a shower and toilet. Closing that one, he moved to the other side to see that it was a rather large closet. "Great... this is going to be hell," he muttered to himself.

Harry over heard him as he did his own inspection of the room. "Quick grab a calendar, I think we're about to agree on something."

Draco's lip kind of curled up in one corner at that, before it fell into a grimace once again. Instead, he pulled out the three boxes that were sitting at on the left bed off, even as he noticed it was one for clothes, one for his computer, and one for other necessary items. Damn... his father wasn't going to help him out any either, he noticed. It wasn't something he was glad about.

Harry noticed that Draco's possessions had been dropped off and wondered if his had too. He looked and found a duffel bag and a couple boxes of his own, lovingly packed by Sirius. No, scratch that, Remus had probably done it. With a sigh, he pulled the nearest towards him and opened it to start unpacking.

Draco opened his clothes first. Most were still on hangers, folded neatly. With a sigh, he began to pull them out and moved to hang them up. He didn't even take up half the closet, merely just enough to have a clean outfit every day at school. He then placed some jeans and shirts into a single dresser drawer. That was his casual clothes. With that done, he started in on his computer, picking the left side of the large desk.

Harry had grabbed his computer first, a compact laptop, his baby. He had saved a lot to get it and it was his pride and joy. Restraining himself from kissing the case since Draco was near, he placed it lovingly on the desk, giving it a bit of a pat before turning to get his clothes in order. Most of them were casual and ended up in the dresser instead of the closet.

Draco's own laptop was rather impressive and he didn't care that Harry was around, he kissed it softly before setting it down and setting up his printer, web cam, and headphones up along beside it, caressing each part lovingly as he set up his side of the desk, leaving room to be able to work on his homework should he have to.

Harry located his printer in another box, and set it next to his laptop, noticing that Draco did kiss his own. He smiled at that. Maybe they had one thing in common. He found his last box, the odds and ends that made home, home.

Draco then opened his last box and pulled out his deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, his personal coffee cup, and other items that make up his personal items. The last thing he pulled out was a picture of him and a woman with pale blond hair... just like his own. Both were smiling warmly at one another, oblivious to the fact they were getting a picture taken. With that done, Draco moved to take his cup into the kitchen, checking the cupboards and fridge for food. There was plenty. Obviously, even though the room was to be shared, their parents had agreed it wouldn't do to have them starve.

Draco brushed back his hair and moved to set about collecting items to make into his dinner. While it was true, he was a rich boy, he had spent more time with the cook and maid than he ever had with his parents. Beginning to fry up some meat for his dinner, using the few seasonings that where there to give it some flavor.

The scents began to draw Harry's attention. Unable to keep away from the kitchen any longer, the brunette turned and walked over to the small area, leaning against a counter as he watched the blond work the kitchen as if he had been born in one. "So… the rich prat can cook," he muttered, not wanting to say anything nice to Draco.

Draco looked up from the pan and cast a rather scathing glare toward Harry. "Stuff it, Potter. You probably don't know anything!" he grumbled toward the other boy.

"More than you!" Harry shot back easily.

Draco growled. "Well, then I guess you can cook for yourself."

"Damn straight. I wouldn't eat something you made if I was starving," Harry snarled back.

Draco snorted and continued with his own cooking. He didn't care that Harry was being stubborn and stupid. He'd only cook for himself if the ass was going to be rude about the whole thing. It annoyed Draco to no end that the poor boy seemed to always be surprised by what Draco could do… or what he liked. Half their fights had been over things that he could do that the other boy hadn't expected. Another part of their fights had been their extreme difference of opinion. Seems there was just nothing the two could agree on. Apparently he hadn't been far off when he'd said their time together would be hell.

Harry's stomach couldn't help but grumble at the smells that were soon filling the kitchen. While Draco continued to cook, Harry had began searching through the fridge for something he could make as well. Surprisingly, Harry came to realize that the only thing he was good at making was breakfast. When he had lived with his aunt and uncle, they had always made him cook it. Once he moved in with Sirius and Remus, he had stopped cooking all together, since Remus was an amazing chef. Sirius had done the cooking before Remus had moved in… and while it hadn't been perfect, it had been passable.

Draco finished, his plate holding a rather nicely cooked piece of meat with some fried potatoes and some green vegetable that Harry wasn't able to figure out. With the cooking done, Draco moved to clean up the pans he had used to cook in, cleaning up easily. Harry had been able to do nothing but stare. Since when was it that a rich boy could take care of himself. Especially when it was well known that the blond had a large home and as many maids and servants as there were rooms in his mansion.

Draco picked up his plate and headed into the area where his desk was, moving to read and eat at the same time, away from Harry. Yet, he hadn't been completely mean. Sitting right behind where his plate had been was another plate. The fixings on it were the same as what Draco had on his own. Strip steak, fried potatoes, and garlic butter peas. It wasn't the only thing Draco knew how to cook, but it was one of the things he could make blindfolded.

Harry blinked as his green gaze fell upon the extra plate. He wasn't certain what to make of it. Had Draco done it consciously or not? Had he put something in it or not? Or was it just there because he had made too much? Harry wasn't certain at all. Honestly, he didn't know if he should hold his tongue and accept it… or if it was there to see if he'd actually take it. Instead of just taking it a keeping silent, Harry turned to Draco. "Should I throw this out or stick it in the fridge?" he asked, not able to just take it quietly.

"Its leftovers, Potter. I merely made too much. You can have it if you aren't afraid of my cooking. Otherwise, I'll put it away and eat it later," Draco complained, even as he settled back and ignored the other boy, getting back to the chapter he was supposed to read for his English class.

Harry got ready to reply… but thought better of it. Perhaps… just perhaps… they could manage to survive these coming months stuck together. That is… if both of them could keep their mouths shut. For better or worse, they were going to have to live, eat, and work together. If they couldn't at least come to some kind of compromise, then they wouldn't graduate. That's what it all came down to. They would have to agree to disagree. Otherwise, they'd be stuck with one another for a whole other year. That was something Harry had decided he would try his damnedest to avoid. That said, he picked up the plate left for him he moved to his bed to read and work… for now… finding himself calling a silent truce.