AN: This was a fic between me and Careless95, we never finished it but I've been slowly working on it. I wrote Draco's POV and she wrote Harry's. I've edited everything and reworked a bunch of it as well. I've only finished editing about a quarter of what we did. It goes back and forth evenly between POV's, so after each line is the next person.
AN: Includes naive!Harry, virgin!Harry, perverted!Draco, redeemed!Draco (or at least nice-ish!Draco), unrealistic orgasms, quickly moving relationship, and lots of porn... because... porn.
It was a stupid idea, stupid, just stupid. Harry had lost a bet; a bet with Draco Malfoy of all people. And now, thanks to his own stupidity, he was to be Malfoy's personal slave/toy/butler - whatever he liked to call it. Harry was obviously unhappy with this turn of events, but it was only for a week, it couldn't be that bad, could it?
Draco grinned maniacally as he set his eyes upon his rival. He could see the blush starting to rise on the golden Gryffindor's cheeks, no doubt imagining the illicit things he would be forced to do for him. He crooked a finger at the other boy, all the while still smiling with a feral glint in his eyes.
"Come here, Potter. Time to go, we have a lot to do today."
Rolling his eyes, Harry looked to his friends, who only had faces full of pity for him. Snatching up his backpack and throwing it over a shoulder he walked over to the blonde boy, glaring at him fiercely through his floppy bangs.
"So, what do 'we' have to do, hmm, Malfoy?" he hissed as he bit his bottom lip after the words came out of his mouth because he realized it was probably not smart to make Malfoy angry so early on. He rolled his eyes again, at himself this time, and then looked at the snarky boy waiting for his first orders.
"Aren't we the eager one? I'm pleased." Draco chuckled looking at the appalled expression on Potter's face.
"Well, firstly I figured we should get you set up in my rooms. That way you can be near by for whenever I need anything. This will be fun; you'll be like my house-elf - polishing my broom, entertaining my friends - maybe there'll be a few extra perks to this, who knows." Draco began walking up the hallway leaving Potter to trail along behind him.
Harry huffed as he followed the cocky Slytherin. His house-elf? What was he even thinking? Besides he had hoped he would at least get some time alone at night, but it seemed like this blonde idiot had thought of everything so that Harry would be under his control for the entirety of the week. He shook his head slightly and sighed knowing this was going to be a long seven days. They traversed down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room.
"You're lucky I have my own rooms this year, Potter-" Draco waggled his eyebrows at the raven-haired boy, "more privacy." They went down a set of stairs and into a room situated at the far end of the hall.
"Here we go, put your things over there by my desk. If you need anything else call a house-elf. If I need anything I'll let you know and if you don't listen and decide to back-talk to me, well..." He smirked at the widening of Potter's eyes as he pulled out a sleek black leather whip from his trunk.
"Yeah, totally lucky," Harry muttered darkly as he followed Malfoy inside and unceremoniously dropped his bag onto the floor. The room was nice though he had to admit, a bit gloomy maybe, but what did he expect when it was situated in the dungeons. He turned around as Malfoy was speaking and couldn't believe his eyes when the boy actually pulled out a whip. He tried to hide his shocked face with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you insane, Malfoy?" he asked, shaking his head and forcing his mouth into some semblance of a sneer.
"No, just trying to enjoy this situation as much as I possibly can, Potter." Draco uncoiled the long strip of leather and it gave a menacing crack as he whipped it high into the air to prove his point. "At least I know how to use it, so don't worry your pretty little head about it too much. If you listen and refrain from back-talking to me we won't have to use it, now will we?"
Harry shook his head in disbelief and tried to ignore the anxious feeling in his gut. He watched the whip crack and swallowed hard, attempting to dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat. He absolutely did not want to wind up in contact with that thing but he knew he was going to have difficulties trying not to give a scathing retort to the things the stupid Slytherin was bound to come up with.
"Whatever you say," he pushed out with a whoosh of breath in exasperation, looking Malfoy hard in the eyes and trying to hide the fact that he was fearful of the wicked blonde actually using that thing on him.
"Good boy," Draco responded as he gave a quick pat to the shorter boy's head. He was enjoying this far too much. It felt like he was flying. Here he had Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the Gryffindor saviour, his supremely annoying nemesis, and the bane of his existence at his complete and utter mercy. And it was a Wizarding Bet, so Potter had to go through with it, had to do what he was told, or the repercussions of refusal would be even worse than what Draco could come up with. Even Hermione Granger could find no loop-hole.
He felt like laughing maniacally. Setting the whip on his bed for the time being he contemplated what he should have Potter do first. Draco stared at the other boy long and hard.
He glared disparagingly at Malfoy and fixed his messy hair back into place, then continued staring at him with the same intensity as he was receiving. Harry didn't even want to know what was going through the smarmy git's mind. Honestly, he was a bit scared. He shouldn't have agreed to the bet, should have listened to his friends when they had told him it was a totally stupid thing to do. Well he would be paying for it now.
Draco couldn't maintain his thoughts as he looked the other boy up and down - Potter had such stupid hair, hair that had a mind of its own, hair that had always bothered Draco because of its complete disregard for order. Potter was so scruffy and unkempt.
He wanted to embarrass the shit out of him, yes, but he also wanted to unnerve the other boy to his very core, fuck with his notions, make his eyes widen in shock at nearly every moment of the week. Draco wanted this opportunity to drastically change the Gryffindor and his mindset. He may as well make him look better while he was at it.
"Okay, first thing Potter, if you're going to be following me around everywhere whilst doing my bidding I will not have you looking like a disgraceful, homeless, urchin muggle. I have a little outfit you can wear and I'm getting Blaise to do your hair."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Do I even want to know what this little outfit looks like?" he drawled, rolling his eyes once again to try and look uninterested. Also, he was sure it wasn't a good idea having someone messing about with his hair. Knowing his luck, or probably just from the fact alone that Malfoy was his enemy, it was likely he'd come away from this experience without hair at all afterwards. Harry was about to say something in defiance about this but as he glanced to the bed and the whip nestled atop it he realized that it was in his own best interest to stay silent.
"Ha, you'll find out soon enough. But first... the hair. If I have to stare at the mess that is you a minute longer I might vomit in my mouth." Draco swept out of the room, robes billowing out behind him, not expecting Potter to follow him at all - this would only take a few moments anyway.
Marching into the Common Room he found his friend lounging in front of the fire. Quickly explaining the services he wanted from Blaise, the other Slytherin taking only a second to ponder and agree to it, they both returned to the room and back to Potter.
"Sit, Potter," Draco gestured to the only chair in his room, "It's time for your make-over."
Sighing out Harry sat down abruptly, kicking his feet out in rebellion and looking to Zabini with hesitation and worry creasing the lines of his forehead.
"You better not mess this up, Zabini," he muttered before setting his head straight, staring at a blank spot on the wall across the room. He didn't like the fact that someone else, especially a Slytherin, was now in a position to do whatever he wanted with his hair - but he would go through with it, would keep his mouth shut no matter how badly it would look in the end.
"Oh relax, Potter," Draco sighed dramatically, "it's not like I'm going to shave you bald. I'm trying to make you look better you cretin. I don't want to be seen with someone who looks like he's dressed in whale clothes with a hedgehog for a head."
Blaise and Draco both laughed at his quip.
"Now sit still." Draco nodded to Blaise to begin and the other boy pointed his wand at Potter's head.
"It's not like I could trust you in any way," Harry muttered. He glared at Malfoy while he listened to the insults and the audacity of the comments. "I like my hair the way it is, thank you very much."
"Sectis," Blaise incanted and then paused, looking to Draco and seeing him nod before continuing. "Inficio Argentum," with another nod of acceptance from Draco and a second to have a little admiration of his own work he was finished, "there you go, Draco, just how you asked."
Draco grinned. Now Potter's hair was manage-ably shorter, nothing there to be sticking up all over the place... and Blaise had also dyed the tips of the black hair a silver color. Harry Potter was Slytherin property now.
Harry held his breath while the wand was pointed at his head and then felt a tingling sensation while Zabini changed his hair. As soon as the spells were complete he released the pent up air from his chest in a loud puff and turned around to look into the mirror.
The shorter hair wasn't that bad he had to admit to himself, but the silver tips... Merlin, was he actually going to have to run around like this for a week straight? It was bad enough most people already knew about the bet, but now he was literally parading it around for everyone to see.
"Thank you for the job well done, Blaise." Draco ushered the other boy from the room and turned back to take in Potter's reaction to his new hairstyle. Yes, he mused, he was starting to get under the other boy's skin. Good.
"So, Potter, how does it feel to be my property? I can do with you whatever I please and no one will stop me." He ran his fingers through Potter's soft hair, admiring the fact that he no longer looked like a complete wreck.
Harry slapped Malfoy's hand away, shivers running down his spine from the soft touch. It wasn't his fault that his head was apparently sensitive. He glared at the Slytherin menace and shook his head.
"I am not your property, Malfoy," he denied, "I just lost a bet and after a week all this will be over so you better not get used to this." Harry stood up from the chair. It was bad enough that he was shorter than Malfoy but sitting down while he towered beside him made him feel even smaller.
A snarl rose up from Draco's throat the instant Potter stood. He leaned forward so that he was inches from the now startled face, staring into the glowing and obviously irked green eyes, "I wouldn't move or talk any more if I were you, Potter." He poked his finger into the hard chest in front of him.
"You are my property for this week. I will do with you whatever I choose, I will make you wear whatever I want, and you will do what I tell you to do, no questions. It's simple. This will be your one and only warning." Draco purposefully glanced over to his bed with the whip lying across it.
"I will enjoy it if you get out of line again." He ran a finger up Potter's shivering arm, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips in anticipation.
Harry bit his lip harshly to prevent any words from spilling out and forcing Malfoy to use that damn whip in retaliation. He breathed in and out through his nose slowly trying not to show how much that simple touch and closeness of another body seemed to affect him. It was stupid, really.
"What do you want me to wear then?" Harry asked, keeping his voice calm and even managing to force a little smile onto his face. After all he was likely to have to deal with over the next week he felt he better at least try to make the most of it. Appearing meek might help his situation.
Draco smiled back at him. Who knew it was so easy to get Potter to comply. All it took was an unbreakable contract and threatening him with a strip of coiled leather. He laughed as he gripped the Gryffindor's forearm tightly and dragged him to the set of drawers that held his clothes. He had picked this little outfit up about an hour or so ago just for this purpose. Potter was going to hate it.
"Okay Potter, strip," Draco commanded. He then turned to the drawers and pulled out a pair of tight black leather short shorts and a dark green tank.
Harry's eyes went wide and he shook his head.
"Never. I won't ever agree to wear this, not in a million years, Malfoy," he refused and lifted his hands up and forward in front of himself as if to protect himself from the clothes. The top wasn't that bad, he could deal with that even though it was green, but the shorts - leather shorts? They were indecent. He wouldn't be caught dead in them. Everyone would laugh at him and he would look completely ridiculous.
"Find something else, I won't wear this," he objected again and glared at Malfoy's blonde head. This was absurd.
Draco smirked at Potter's answer. He set the clothes down on top of the dresser and stalked past the Gryffindor silently with a deadly grace. Leisurely reaching out he grasped the handle of the whip from atop his bed and spun around again to face the boy quivering before him. He smiled wide with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
"You won't?" His voice had become low and dangerous. Bringing his arm up the whip cracked out and down, smacking Potter in the hip, and then snapped back up into the air and backwards to coil lightly around his arm.
"You might want to reconsider," Draco purred out.
Harry watched Malfoy with eyes still wide and he yelped as the whip suddenly hit his side. He took a few steps back and shook his head.
"I won't make a fool of myself in front of the whole school by wearing this. I'll wear the top but not some weird leather shorts that show more than they cover," he quickly explained, trying to figure out what Malfoy's next move might be and attempting to gauge what his reaction to Harry's words would be so that he could jump out of the whip's way if need be.
Draco considered Potter's words carefully as he lassoed the whip in an arc above his head.
"Hmm, what will you do as extra payment for an exchange from these shorts to leather pants instead? I need some form of compensation since you are so unwilling. Or I could just keep whipping you until you listen." Draco brought the whip down again, this time striking a lash on Potter's upper thigh even as he attempted to get out of the way.
"Shouldn't it be enough that I wear the leather pants?" Harry asked, rubbing his thigh and wincing at the raw, tender flesh he felt there, which still stung from the sudden hit he had been unable to avoid.
"I'll wear the leather as long as they're not shorts." It wasn't the best deal but it was still better than wearing some tight shorts and freezing to death in the cold castle - and then having everyone laugh at him on top of it all. He glared at Malfoy though hoping he wouldn't hit him again because it hurt quite a bit more than he had expected.
Draco brought the whip back down to his side and glared back at Potter.
"So you're refusing to wear what I tell you to and trying to bargain with me, but you're bargaining with nothing?" He shook his head in mock-disgust. "Potter, you don't have an option here. My pity is not part of the bargaining. You wear the shorts, use a warming spell if you get cold, and deal with the humiliation. I will laugh, everyone else will laugh, and you don't get whipped any more - for this anyway." He started spinning the whip above his head once again, raising an eyebrow at Potter in questioning. "Or bargain with me properly and I'll let you wear some pants."
"Fine, Malfoy, what do you want in exchange for me to be able to wear the pants?" Harry asked trying to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice but wasn't too successful. "What do I need to do?" He relaxed a little since Malfoy's arm had dropped to his side, the whip dangling uselessly to the floor. Still looking at the painful device, Harry made sure the blonde wasn't preparing to lift it back up before he spoke again.
"I'd say that I'd do anything but I suppose that's not wholly true," he added, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Good choice," Malfoy dropped the whip back onto the bed and made his way back to the dresser full of clothes, rummaging around for a pair of leather pants, "but I can get you to do whatever I want so that's a pointless question. It's about what you will offer me freely."
Harry sighed.
"Since you can make me do almost anything what's the point in offering you something freely? Not that I have any clue what would satisfy you," he replied as he watched Malfoy going through his clothes. When he could ask for anything why offer something? Harry shook his head and picked up the green tank top. It wasn't that bad. Well, it was Slytherin green but other than that it truly was alright and seemed like it would fit quite well... at least when Harry held it up to himself it looked as if it would.
"Because it's more fun for me when you have to do something for me of your own free will, because you would never do so in real life if it weren't for this bet." The green looked good held up against Potter's olive-toned skin, bringing out the colour of his flashing emerald eyes. "Do something for me that you would never do if it weren't for the situation. Remember, Potter, it's a bargain, something I wouldn't think to ask for," Draco explained.
"That's pretty much everything. I wouldn't do anything for you, Malfoy, if I wasn't in this situation," Harry realized and shook his head. He looked at the ceiling while he pondered and started to chew on his lip, making little indentations in the skin as it started to swell.
"I could do a part of your homework or something?" he suggested knowing it was lame as soon as he had said it, but that was the first thing that came to mind and it was better than nothing at all, right?
"Ha, that's funny, Potter. Like I would want you to do my homework, I do want to get good grades, you know," Draco scoffed.
"Come on, use your imagination, think of something that could be useful to me," he finally had the leather pants in hand and thrust them into Potter's arms, "also, are you ever going to change or are you just going to stand around staring at the clothes all day?"
Reluctantly, Harry took off his way too big shirt before pulling the tank top on. It was a little tight but he supposed that the Slytherin had possibly chosen it just for that reason, to make it look like he was wearing a girl's top or something of the sort. He then stripped to his boxers and tried to pull the leather pants on, which wound up being a pretty difficult task, and it took him about five minutes of pulling upwards as he shimmied until the waistline was finally sitting where it was supposed to be.
"I could... I dunno, clean your room or something," Harry suggested.
Draco unfolded the arms he had had crossed over his chest as he'd waited impatiently for Potter to squirm into his pants.
"You know you're not supposed to wear boxers under those," he pointed out, cringing at the lumps under the tight leather. "And again, that's not something I need. Does it look messy to you? It's immaculate you dolt!" he replied as if it was the most ludicrous thing ever to have been suggested to him.
Sitting on the end of his four-poster bed Draco began tapping his foot in irritation.
"If I have to choose something for you I'm going to make it sexual to spite you... so you better think of something good."
"Well these are the underwear I usually wear and I won't just go bare underneath these pants," Harry replied and ran a hand through his much shorter hair, groaning in frustration. He knew it was likely that the boxers clearly visible under the tight pants made him look silly, but he couldn't do much about it if he wanted to keep some form of dignity... he smiled as a thought came to him and he leaned down to procure his wand from his discarded pants on the floor, charming his boxers into basically some form of boxer-briefs that wouldn't be visible any more though the nearly skin-tight leather.
"I'm sorry, I can't think of anything right now," Harry told him wearily. Seeing the menacing look on the blonde's face he knew that this wasn't an option. His tongue dipped out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "I could call you 'Master' for the rest of the week, since you like the idea of me being a house elf?"
"Hmm..." Draco unwittingly shivered at this idea. "I suppose I can accept that, Potter." He drew his fingers up under his chin with a pensive look in his eyes. "Maybe I should get you a leash while I'm at it."
He rose from the bed and stalked over to where Potter was standing. Circling the boy, he took in his appearance with an accepting nod, and then jutted his arm straight out in invitation to leave the room.
"Alright, well you're passable, time to parade you out onto the Quidditch Pitch so I can train with my team. You can polish my broom during the meeting."
Harry groaned for having suggested the 'Master' thing, but he supposed it was better than Malfoy's idea of 'something sexual'. He followed the blonde out of the room, realizing that the leather pants were not the greatest to move around in, the leather rubbing against his thighs, and now that he was actually wearing them he figured it was also probable that trying to sit in them was going to be most uncomfortable. Sighing, he shook these thoughts from his head and glared at whoever had the gull to laugh at him and the ridiculously tight clothes he wore as they walked out to the Quidditch pitch.
Draco led Potter outside and to the room adjacent from the showers that he was to meet up with his team in. He handed over his broom and told Potter to get to work on it. "And if you wreck it I'll use it on you as I did my whip."
"I know how to handle a broom if you don't remember. You lose at Quidditch against me on a regular basis." Harry took the object with a grimace, biting back the retort he wanted to make. "I'm not stupid." He sat down at the back of the room with some cleaner and a cloth, and started cleaning and polishing the broom, listening to what Malfoy was telling his team while only half paying attention.
Draco ignored the rude comment tossed his way and decided to let it slide for now. He proceeded with his meeting, once everyone had arrived, as if Potter wasn't even in the room with them. It was the most difficult meeting Draco had ever had with his team. It was hard keeping his eyes off of Potter's hands running up and down the shaft of his broom, the cloth and his fingers gleaming with polish as he smoothed oil into the wood.
The raven-haired boy didn't even have a clue to how sultry he looked while lost in thought, biting his tongue in concentration as he cleaned Draco's broomstick with precise movements.
Draco wrapped up the meeting hurriedly, cursing himself for the terrible idea of making Potter clean his broom in the first place, and took to the air as quickly as could, directing the Gryffindor to go to the kitchens and prepare something for him to eat for when returned to his room.
Harry walked to the kitchen with a glare on his face and red tinge radiating across his entire face.
"He couldn't just wait another hour for dinner in the great hall; no, he has to send me on an errand to get him food. Merlin," he muttered quietly and opened the door to the kitchens by tickling the pear.
He was welcomed warmly by the house-elves and smiled at their exuberance. Asking politely for what he needed, and then cast a warming spell on the food before bringing it down to the dungeon, he groaned when he heard some of the Slytherin's in the common room whispering and laughing at him. Harry thought he would die of embarrassment before the week was over, he was sure about it.
Training ran past supper time as he had supposed it would. That was why Draco had sent Potter down to get a meal. He wasn't going to starve because of Goyle's ineptitude. It had almost been a lost cause trying to teach the idiot to actually hit the bludger in the right direction. It wasn't just about brute force, but the big lump couldn't get it through his thick skull that aiming was important too.
Last match Goyle had wound up hitting one of his own team mates with the bludger and it had been embarrassing as hell for everyone. Finally they had managed to figure out how to help him, finishing up all sweaty and exhausted, but feeling like something was accomplished. Draco quickly showered and ran down to his rooms, hoping Potter hadn't gotten into too much mischief while he'd been absent.
Harry had waited in the rooms the entire time; now hungry and kind of pissed off since he hadn't dared to leave to go down and grab his own food, unsure of what Malfoy's reaction might be to coming back and finding him missing. He didn't fancy another use of that stupid whip. For a moment he had thought about setting the monstrous thing on fire, but decided against it and just waited, glaring at the enticing smell of the food that was waiting there for Malfoy.
Draco sighed as he made his way to a sulking Harry Potter and a delectable platter of food. He cracked his neck before he sat down and then began filling a plate with an assortment of delicious smelling items. He was starving. Just as he was about to take a bite of his steak he heard a stomach growl and it wasn't his own. He set his fork down.
"Daisy!" Draco yelled suddenly into the empty room. A petite, young-looking house-elf popped into existence right beside his elbow. "Get this dolt here a plate," he ordered as he pointed to Potter and nudged him with his foot. Daisy nodded and snapped out and back in again procuring a plate and unasked for silverware. She left as soon as she was done with a long drawn out bow.
"Here, eat," Draco said, passing a plate over and adjusting the platter of food so that it was in reach of them both.
Almost scoffing, Harry barely held back from rolling his eyes at the way Malfoy had treated the house-elf. But he didn't say anything about it, just took some food from the platter, creating his usual small portions and set about eating.
He avoided looking at Malfoy at all, just slowly chewed and wondered where his friends were at and what they might be doing at the moment. They were probably laughing and having fun in the Gryffindor Common Room, playing exploding snap or chess, or more likely Hermione had forced Ron to do his homework and he was grumbling miserably as she nagged him. Well at least he wasn't as miserable as Harry was.
Once he was finished eating he pushed his plate away and turned toward the wall before he realized there was no window there. Harry closed his eyes instead. He already missed staring at the stars and the moon in the vast sky overlooking the grounds. That was what he usually did when he was in his own room.
Draco finished the last of his pudding and murmured out, "Well I don't know about you, Potter, but I'm knackered so I'm going to go to sleep."
Potter didn't even turn to look at him.
"I don't have anywhere for you to sleep," Draco snapped suddenly. "So unless you know how to conjure a bed you can have the floor." Stretching his arms out he tried to stifle a yawn. "You may have some time for yourself if you wish, but I expect you back within a few hours to cater to me in case I need something throughout the night." He waved a hand at Potter attempting to shoo him from the room.
Grumpily, Harry stood up. He wasn't capable of conjuring a full bed but he did manage to create a shoddy mattress and pillow. The blanket took a few tries because it kept coming out the size of a towel, but he eventually figured that out as well. At least he'd be able to sleep in semi-comfort.
He refused to speak to Malfoy the entire time and smiled at the irked look on the boy's face because of it. When the bedding was set up to his liking he realized he didn't have anything to sleep in and also conjured a pair of pyjamas. Harry changed into those quickly, watching as the blonde averted his eyes, and hopped onto the mattress to crawl underneath the blanket.
If Malfoy wanted to have him there, he would get him every second of every day and all night too, whether he was annoyed by it or not. Actually, annoying him was the most Harry could do for his own peace of mind.
Draco sighed and stripped off his clothes, pulling on a pair of silk pyjama bottoms and scratching his bare chest lazily while his jaw cracked from a large yawn.
"Suit yourself," he drawled, crawling into his own bed and whispering "Nox" into the room before setting his wand on the night stand.
He was slightly annoyed because he had wanted to have a quick wank before passing out, since it usually helped him relax after Quidditch games and practices, but with Potter in the same room and only a few feet away it looked like that wasn't going to be possible. Stubborn Gryffindor.
After removing his glasses and finding a relatively safe place for them on the floor near the wall, Harry stared at the ceiling for a while wondering about what Malfoy might have in store for him over the next week. He wasn't looking forward to finding out and was experiencing anxiousness for it to be all over. He could do this. He would make it through.
Turning around to lay on his side, Harry found himself facing Malfoy's bed. He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep, but sleep just wouldn't come so he just kept turning over and over, rolling about for what seemed like forever.
Draco drifted in and out of sleep, imagining all the while the things he could force Potter to do over the course of the week. It didn't help that Potter kept tossing around in his sleep, rustling the blankets every few minutes and causing the bedsprings to squeak with every shift of his body.
"Hey, Potter, you alright?"
Harry breathed out deeply as Malfoy's voice pulled him out of the half-sleep, just about dreaming state, he had finally succumbed to. He abruptly sat up, trying to make out more than just the blurry outline of furniture in the dark.
"Mmhm," he responded ruffling what was left of his hair. It was too short to properly do so now and he suddenly remembered the silver tips and glared into the shadows of the room in the general direction of Malfoy. Stupid bet. Stupid Malfoy and these fucking god-awful Slytherin colours.
"You keep tossing about, Potter," Draco mumbled sleepily, also sitting up in his bed. His skin pebbled from the cold air and he shivered a few times before pulling up his blankets and wrapping them around his chest. "You alright?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Harry snapped out. He was not about to admit to his rival that he couldn't sleep. And he wasn't going to mention about the nightmares that were haunting him. It wasn't any of his damn business and he also didn't want to appear weak or as if he was a small child afraid of the dark.
He hated this, hated the dark pressing in all around him down here – it felt as if he was being buried alive, smothered in these dank dungeons with no windows and no natural light... nothing to blot out the terror of the night and what usually came with it.
Draco shrugged his shoulders before moving back down into the warmth of his covers.
"Just asking, Potter." He turned over onto his other side, putting his back to the clearly restless boy. "Just go back to sleep," Draco whispered quickly as his own eyes began fluttering closed once more.
"That's an easy thing to say," Harry barely muttered to himself as he sighed and rolled on to his back to try and find some sleep. He just hoped Malfoy wasn't an early bird because he definitely did not want to get up early the next day.