Genre: Romance/Slash

Rating: PG-13 for "romantic moments" and occasional swearing.

Disclaimer: I own what you do not recognize as J.K. Rowling's and as I am making no money off of this, please take heed and do not sue me. Her lawyer is better.

*

Chapter One

"Harold James Potter!"

Smash.

"Uh…Hermione, I can explain!" Explain why I dumped you just like that. Oh, that'll be easy.

But the vexed witch refused to hear a word of it and to prove that, she hefted another heavy book and threw it at Harry.

Harry ducked quickly, just barely missing getting hit soundly in the head.

"Hermione!" Harry pleaded, watching her warily, "Please let me explain!"

She glared at him darkly. "Fine. You have two minutes, and I swear you better make it good or I'll curse you into next week!"

"I saw you and Ron snogging!" he blurted.

Hermione froze and dropped the book in her hand. It hit the common room floor with a loud thump, causing the few Gryffindors that weren't already watching to look in their direction.

"You…you…saw that?" she stuttered, suddenly looking very guilty.

He nodded.

Hermione suddenly felt very bad indeed and a few tears slid down her cheeks. Harry bit his lip and crossed the room in three strides, pulling the frizzy-haired witch into a hug. "Hermione," he said softly, "please don't cry."

She sniffled into his robes.

"Listen Hermione, I knew you weren't happy with me. But I want to see you happy. Even if it is with my best friend."

Hermione sniffled louder and peered up into his understanding green eyes with her red puffy ones. "How can you not be upset, Harry?"

He gave her a small smile. "You're my best friend Hermione, and I love you. I just want you to be happy."

She hugged him tighter. "I'm sorry Harry."

"For snogging Ron or throwing books at me?" he asked, his voice and grin impish.

She laughed a watery laugh. "Both."

It was then that Ron walked in through the portrait hole, saw a red faced Hermione sniffling in Harry's arms, and left promptly.

Harry saw Hermione's face sink noticeably. He pulled her over to a squashy sofa.

"What's his problem?" he asked softly.

"Well, considering what happened last night? I'd say he doesn't want to see me."

"Do you think he regrets it?"

"Well, he was pretty drunk."

Harry grinned. Someone had smuggled in alcohol for a Gryffindor house party the night before. "Well, it worked out for you, didn't it?"

Catching the devilish grin on Harry's face, Hermione's mouth fell open. "You got him drunk? Not to mention you got me just a bit tipsy!" Her voice had taken its angry edge back on.

The grin fell from Harry's face. "I had to get you two together somehow."

Hermione's face tightened with anger. "I can't believe you! Now Ron probably thinks I'm an easy snog! And now he won't even face me! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HARRY POTTER!"

"I-I'm sorry Hermione…"

"Please Harry…just leave. Please…"

Harry swallowed around the growing lump in his throat and retreated to the dorms, the whole of the common room watching him as he left.

He flopped down on his bed, suddenly feeling very bad indeed. Not only had he alienated his two best friends, but he had just broken up with one of them. Nice track record Harry, he though, punching his pillow. Just great.

*

Meanwhile, down in the common room, Hermione was plotting her sweet revenge. And it was sweet indeed.

*

Harry was late. Miserably, horribly late. And for Potions, no less. He ran, tying his tie as he did so, as fast as he could down the corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly on the stone floor. It was as he was fixing his tie that he completely missed the slender blonde Seeker that was running distractedly in the opposite direction.

CRASH. The boys collided falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Harry swore as he pushed himself off of none other then Draco Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," he sniffed, getting up and brushing his robes off.

"You should follow your own advice, Malfoy," replied Harry icily.

Draco's silver eyes hardened. "You watch yourself Potter." And with that, he continued on his way, bumping Harry's shoulder purposefully as he went. Harry started quickly forward and the distance between the boys lengthened for a few seconds until, like a rubber band, they shot back towards each other, winding each other with the force.

"What the hell did you do, Potter?" Draco demanded.

"Nothing! I might ask you the same thing. You are after all, the Dark Arts expert here, and ramming into you should be some new form of torture."

"Clever, Potter," drawled the slightly taller boy, rolling his eyes boredly. "With that wit I can see why you're Dumbledore's Golden Boy."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't have time for this, enjoyable as it is." He stood, brushing his robes off and started walking away, only to find that he could move no more then two steps before some unknown force prohibited him from moving farther.

"I though you were in a hurry, Potter. Standing around won't get you where you're going."

Harry turned and glared at the boy. "I'm aware of that, Malfoy, but it just so happens that I'm stuck."

"Stuck?!" Draco demanded, standing up. "What do you mean stuck?"

"Try backing up pretty boy."

Draco glared at Harry but said nothing and attempted to step backwards, soon finding that he couldn't.

"We've been cursed!" Draco exclaimed.

"Hermione," said Harry as Draco muttered, "Pansy."

"What?" they both asked.

"You first!" they both offered.

"No you!" they both replied.

"Fine," Draco said. "It just so happens that Pansy's horrifically mad at me because I broke up with her. Not that it's any of your business. So, why do you think the Mudblood would curse you? Are you two dating? Oh, BAD mental picture. Ugh!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Though it's none of your business, we were. We…uh…broke up. She's a bit…upset."

"Well, whether it was the Pug-Face or the Mudblood, we've been cursed, and I for one, would rather die then stay like this."

"Helpful, Malfoy," said Harry sharply. "I don't see you saying the countercurse."

"I don't see you saying it either, Golden Boy."

They glared at each other and then sighed at the same time.

"Let's face it," Harry said sullenly. "Neither of us know the countercurse and now I'm late to Potions and you're late to er…Potions? Malfoy, why the hell were you running that way?" he asked, pointing in the opposite direction of Potions classroom.

"I left my book in Transfiguration yesterday. Snape was letting me get it. He told me to hurry."

"Oh. Well, now we're both late."

"I've noticed," said the taller boy dryly.

"So, what do we do about it? We can't exactly go to Potions like this. We sit on opposite sides of the room."

"With good reason," scoffed the silver-eyed boy.

"Snape doesn't want to put me and Ron close enough to you to beat you?"

"Uh-oh, everyone tremble. Potter's bringing in his sidekick. Watch, you'll bring in the Mudblood next."

Harry glared at Draco, but found what Draco was saying to be truthful. "I would, seeing as she could curse you into next week"—as she threatened to do to me—"but she got us into this mess. Damn it!" Harry sat down hard on the cold stone floor, glaring up at his smirking archenemy.

"I don't think we can go to Potions, Potter," Draco drawled. "For one, I will never let a Parkinson get the better of me, and imagine the elation on the Pug-Face's face when she sees this."

"Elated that she actually got a spell right?"

Draco could help but grin. "You know, as much as I hate you Potter, you're great at ripping on talentless Slytherin flirts."

It was Harry's turn to grin. "I've made a hobby on ripping on you, haven't I?"

Draco's grin dissolved and he fixed his stony glare on Harry. "Who's Head Boy here, Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "This is great, but how do we get out of Potions?"

They sat in a thoughtful silence for a moment and then at the exact same time said, "The Hospital Wing!"

They both paled noticeably, Draco's color paling until he was almost white.

"Well," said Harry. "This should be exciting. Now stand still so I can curse you."

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed. "Why am I the one that gets cursed?"

Harry shrugged. "I was only joking. Besides, we both need an excuse to miss class. I'm not going to go off and do something with some half-baked plan."

"That's what you usually do, Golden Boy. How about this, on three, we curse each other…eh…do you remember what Ron did to himself second year?"

"Slugs?"

Draco nodded unhappily. "And we blame it on some Ravenclaws that jumped us while we were on our way to Potions."

Harry sighed. "This is just how I wanted to spend the Friday before Christmas holiday. Stuck to you and vomiting slugs. Alright. On three. No funny business. If you dare try and pull off something like you did in the dueling club…"

"You'll curse me when you recover. Now isn't the time anyway. If I send you reeling, I follow, remember?"

Harry's hard look was response enough. "Okay…on three. One…"

"Two…"

"THREE!" they both said, and then cursed each other.

A few breathless seconds later, the first slugs came up, followed rapidly by more.

"C'mon—let's—go—see—Pomfrey…--should—shouldn't—stay—Filch—slime—" Draco said around rounds of slugs.

Harry nodded, quite nearly spraying the blonde with slugs. Draco glared at the boy, but helped him to his feet and together, spraying the floor with slugs as they went, they made it down to the Hospital Wing, not exchanging insults for perhaps the first time since their initial meeting in Diagon Alley.

*

"Oh dear! What have you two done?" asked Madame Pomfrey when she saw the two boys, now leaning on each other as they wretched, enter.

"Attacked," breathed Harry, before coating the shining floor with slime and a few slugs. Draco spit up a few slugs to reiterate the point.

"By who?!" demanded the disgruntled witch while she set at finding them pans to spit the slugs into.

"Ravenclaws," Draco heaved, "Big bunch—didn't see who."

Pans were shoved into the boys hands, and they threw up a few slugs into them, before sitting down on opposite beds.

The witch looked at her two charges. "I don't think there's much I can do for you. I will have you excused from your classes, but I have nothing to cure that," she said as Harry bent his head over the pan to heave up slugs. With one more shake of her head, she left.

"Are you—going home for—holiday?" Harry asked, belching up slugs.

"I hadn't—decided." Draco let out a sigh. "Guess not—anymore."

Harry frowned. "Sorry."

Draco looked at the dark haired boy for a few seconds before another wave of heaves shook through him. He shrugged. "It is half—my fault. Sorry for ruining your holiday."

Harry said nothing. For once two archenemies who took such great joy in tormenting each other were apologizing. Speaking civilly to each other. Agreeing.

*

After finally being dismissed my Madame Pomfrey, the boys wandered about the school, stopping in the entrance way of the nearly deserted Great Hall. All of the students had departed by now, leaving only a few people at each house table. The Weasley and Hermione had opted to stay, as had a second year Harry didn't know very well.

The Slytherin table was empty.

Seeing Harry's expression, Draco said. "My mother's throwing a Christmas Party. All of Slytherin house was invited. She also invited several family friends, including a boy that just graduated from Dumstang. Pansy'll dig her claws into him as soon as mum serves the cocktails."

"So that's why you're staying?"

Draco turned sharply toward Harry and glared at him. "Don't make presumptions about my life, Potter."

*

They walked in silence to the still life of the fruit and Harry tickled the pear, gaining them entrance to the kitchen. Dobby immediately saw Harry and ran over to the boy, throwing his scrawny arms around Harry's legs.

"Friend of yours, Potter? And I though the Mudblood and the Weasel were bad."

Harry cast a dark look at the blonde. "Did you want to eat tonight Malfoy?"

Draco said nothing more outside of a "thank you" when the house elves handed them generous plates of leftovers.

*

They finally uncovered their plates in a deserted tower and began to talk about their predicament.

"Malfoy, we're in a pretty sticky situation."

"As if I didn't know that, Potter."

Harry glared at the blonde. "We have to figure how to reverse this spell. I'm sick of listening to you."

"The feeling's mutual, Golden Boy. I say we stop by and have a little chat with Granger after supper."

"Sounds like a plan."

And they finished their supper in one of the first comfortable silences they had ever shared.

*

The two Seekers made their way soundlessly through the halls, their feet making no sound on the stone floor. When they finally got to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry said the password and the Fat Lady let them enter, grudgingly, as it seemed she was wary of Draco.

The first person they saw upon entering the common room was Ron who cast a confused look at Harry. Then at Draco. Then back at Harry.

"What's he doing here?" Ron asked.

"We were cursed," explained Harry. "We're sort of stuck together."
Ron looked horrified, but still managed to glare at Draco.

"We're looking for Hermoine," Harry went on. "Have you seen her?"

It was exactly at that moment that the witch in question tumbled through the portrait hole talking and laughing with Ginny Weasley. She froze, the grimaced when she saw Harry. "Hi," she said quietly.

"Hello Hermione. How are you? AND WHAT DID YOU DO?!?"

The brunette witch sighed and then launched into her tale, both boys watching her, hands on hips. She left nothing out.

"Well," she began. "Harry, I bet you know that I've liked someone else since about third year--" Harry nodded and Draco shot him a look that clearly asked it all: the Weasel? "--and you, well, I've noticed where your eyes rove--" Harry blushed and Ron and Draco, but mostly Draco, fixed him with hard, questioning looks.

"Cho," Harry lied sheepishly.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Anyway, I decided that things wouldn't work out between this guy and I and that things probably wouldn't work out between you and the person you like--" she cast a barely noticeable glance at George Weasley. Harry caught it, but unfortunately, so did Draco. He pinched Harry hard, letting the black-haired boy know that he had seen where Hermione's glance was directed.

Harry bit his lip.

"So," Hermione continued, "I decided that maybe things might work out between us. But, you betrayed my trust," Ron blushed and Draco's eyes flitted from Harry to Hermione to Ron and then back again to Harry, "and as I was crying down in Moaning Myrtle's toilet, I heard someone else crying, and it wasn't Myrtle." It was Draco's turn to blush and he did so gracefully, while averting his stony eyes, lest the fury of all womankind rain down on him. "It was Pansy, and for once, we had common ground to stomp on. We got to talking and we came up with this nifty little curse."
Harry and Draco were now caught between shame and fury.

"And?" asked Harry.

"Well," said the frizzy-haired witch, "it's called the Moreso Curse. You two can go look it up for yourselves, if you'd like. I'm sure you'll be together for a while. G'night." And with that, she left, Ron following her example.

Harry sunk into one of the squashy arm chairs, causing to stumble, almost into his lap, because of the bond.

"Fuck," said the raven-haired boy.

"Yeah," Draco replied, taking a close chair, ignoring the glares of the remaining Gryffindors. "So, the great Harry Potter likes boys, does he?"

Harry glared at Draco darkly.

"Cat's out of the bag, Potter."
"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"I s'pose you'll tell the whole school after holiday?"

"Nah," Draco shrugged.

"Nah? God, Malfoy, you're being unusually agreeable today. Feeling alright?"

Draco gave him a dark look, though it was hardly as potent as usual. "Potter, if we're stuck together, we're going to find things out about each other."

"Yeah?"

"So I say we make a pact. As soon as we get rid of this curse, we never speak of what we learned about each other to anyone."

"Deal."

And a soft, strong hand met a callused one in a firm handshake.

And for the first time, two enemies touched out of understanding, not hate.

It would not be the last time.

Author's Note: I had to post something. I was getting random haven't-done-anything-but-het-in-a-while fever, which isn't entirely true, but that's okay. This'll develop into who knows what. It shall be at least five chapters long, but I'm predicting more. Nothing really in this chapter. It was dull to write. I've been working on it for an ungodly long time too….go figure….If you like it review. It will give me incentive to write more. If you don't well…..sorry. Give it time???

Adieu,
Ril