Okay, so this is my first HPDM story...nothing really happens between the two...it's just another one of those someone's-sick-so-their-rival-and-future-love-takes-care-of-them stories.

I'm thinking of writing a sequel to this, and I probably will...Please let me know what you think of it!

ENJOY!

Draco Malfoy looked up as giant shadow passed the corner where he was skillfully hidden. He wondered what anyone was doing this late at night, wandering the halls. He doubted it was a teacher, since the shadows were far too short. So, it had to be a student. He grinned. Well, now he could get another unsuspecting student into trouble.

He placed himself under a practiced disillusionment charm and walked silently behind the wandering students. Because it was so dark, he still couldn't tell who they were, but he really didn't care. What did surprise him, however, was how far they were going.

The student walked only a short distance before stopping. Then they started walking again, but this time, it was as if they were pacing. They walked down to a window, back to where they'd started, and back again to window; the whole time murmuring something along the lines of "I need to find a place where a sick person can rest comfortably." Then, they looked at the wall. Draco followed their gaze and gasped.

There, on the seemingly normal wall, had appeared a door.

The student in front of him looked up to see what had caused the noise he'd just heard, but Draco didn't notice. What he did notice was that instead of being one student, there was three. And he knew the three students pretty well.

Oh, I am going to love getting them into trouble! He thought to himself, gleefully.

It was the famous Golden Trio, all looking about cautiously.

The Mudblood, Granger, stood to the far right of the group, her eyes narrowed and calculating, even though it was probably past midnight by then. She had on her muggle clothes – jeans and a sweatshirt – and was clutching her wand tightly.

The blood traitor, Weasley, was on the far left, also clutching his wand. He seemed a bit frightened, but he was obviously trying to hide it – and was failing miserably. He had on the same clothes as Granger – she had obviously infected him with her tawdry taste – and looked very foolish.

And, of course, in the middle, was our little hero, the "Boy Who Lived" and whatnot. He looked – miserable. His head was hung low and his arms were around both Granger's and Weasley's shoulders. He looked as if he could barely stand, let alone look around for someone whom they could not see. His wand was barely in his hand and he seemed to be falling asleep on his feet.

"Come on, Hermione!" Weasley said suddenly, and turned to face the door that was still there. Granger scanned the general direction Draco was standing in before nodding her head and smirking; she then turned towards the door as well.

Draco wondered what she'd found so amusing, but curiosity got the best of him as to what was behind the door. In all his five years at Hogwarts, he'd never seen this room before.

He followed them closely and managed to slip in behind them right before the door was closed. And he almost gasped again.

He had somehow found himself in a homely, warm looking room, all set with a kitchen, a dining room, a couch, and a bed. There was a fireplace near the couch to keep the room warm and the whole place was decorated with colors of all four houses.

The bed, and the fireplace, was made in Gryffindor red and gold. The floors were carpeted in Ravenclaw blue and bronze. The whole kitchen and dining room was full of Hufflepuff yellow and black. And the walls, the couch, and the ceiling were all decorated in Slytherin green and silver.

At first, Draco grimaced at the color choices, thinking that the place could've done without the colors of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. The Slytherin colors, to him, looked perfectly well off by themselves.

He then turned his eyes to Potter and his two best friends, wondering what in the world the three were doing here at this time of night. He didn't have to wait too long for his answer.

"Lay down, Harry!" Granger said in a scolding tone; "no matter how much you want to deny it, you're sick, and you need to rest!"

Draco smirked. So, the boy was sick, huh? He would have fun then.

"'Mione…I'm fine! I have to finish Snape's assignment or he'll have my arse for good this time!" Harry croaked out before drowning in a fit of coughs.

"Whatever you say, mate! But you're staying here! I brought your stuff for you, 'cause I knew you'd get all worked up." Weasley replied, smiling nervously at Potter and pushing him down onto the bed. He threw what looked like Potter's bag next to him.

"Get some rest, Harry, and we'll be back tomorrow to check on you and help you out!" Granger smiled ruefully at Potter before she and Weasley turned around and started to leave. Weasley left first, but Granger hung back.

She looked back at Potter and suddenly slammed Draco against the door. "I don't know what you're doing here, Malfoy, but it'd better not harm Harry in any way, shape, or form. I'll know if you do something to him, and I'll come after you to make you pay!" She smirked up at his invisible face and let go of him. "Oh, and you're charm may be strong, but mine's stronger, so I can tell!"

She then hurried out the door and shut it behind her before Draco could hex her.

Who does she think she is, cornering me against a door of all things, that filthy Mudblood! He silently reprimanded himself for getting stuck in a situation like that before remembering where he was.

He looked over to Potter, who was staring with curious eyes at where he was standing. Granger may have been able to tell, but Potter sure couldn't.

"Who's there?" He asked still staring straight at invisible Draco.

Draco was surprised how strong Potter voice was, considering how he'd coughed just a few minutes before.

"I know you're there! I saw Hermione push you up against a wall and say something! Who are you?"

Draco smirked and removed his disillusionment charm, causing Potter to gasp.

"Malfoy!" His voice was streaked with traces of weak anger as he called out Draco's name. "What're you doing here? How'd you get in here?"

"Hello, Potter! Sick, are we?" Draco replied, his voice perfectly content at being cheeky.

Potter continued to glare at Draco, obviously not wanting to reply until Draco answered his questions. For once, Draco complied.

"I heard you guys sneaking around and thought I could get you into trouble if I followed you. You should be more careful, Potter. What is this room, anyway?"

"What were you doing out of bed so late, Malfoy?"

"I'm part of the Inquisitorial Squad, remember, Potter? I'm allowed to be out late, if I want to that is."

Potter didn't seem to have a reply for that, so Draco started to explore the room.

It seemed perfect for a sick person, all warm, comfortable, and quiet. The only thing that seemed to be missing was food and water.

Draco was examining the quality of the couch when he heard a harsh coughing sound behind him.

Potter was hunched over, with his arm in front of his mouth, and seemed to be coughing his life out. Draco almost felt sorry for him.

"What, Potter, can't take a simple potion to cure a cold?" Draco asked tauntingly.

He was answered with even more coughing that went on for a while. When Potter finally spoke, his voice sounded weak and raw.

"I hate those stupid potions, they taste so bad!"

"Yes, but they work."

"I don't care! I still hate the taste, and I'd rather suffer through the cold than have to live through a few seconds of that horrible taste! It's not like I haven't done it before…"

The last part caught Draco off-guard as Harry trailed off. The tone of sadness and anger that had entered his voice was obvious, but Draco just didn't want to ask Potter, of all people, if he was okay.

"Stubborn fool!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Potter croaked out before falling into another fit of coughs, while Draco smirked madly.

"You don't seem to be in the condition to make any demands, Potter!"

Again, Potter was unable to answer.

Then, Draco had a brilliant idea.

"Do you have a fever?" he asked, trying to appear triumphant.

"What? No, of course not!" Harry said in an irritable tone while flapping his arms in a weird motion.

"Yeah, right! Let me check, Potter!"

Draco walked up to the sick boy and tried to place his hand on his forehead. Potter smacked it away.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?"

Potter had his arms in front of him in a defensive motion, but Draco just laughed. Like Potter could really defend himself when he obviously felt like crap.

"Trying to check if you have a temperature, clearly."

"What? I already checked, Malfoy! I don't have one!"

"Right…"

Suddenly, Draco moved quickly and pinned down both of Potter's arms by his side. He then pressed his own forehead to the forehead of the boy beneath him. Potter started to squirm underneath Draco, but Draco pulled away quickly.

"Don't have a fever, huh? Your temperature must be at least thirty-nine degrees! You should go see Madam Pomfrey."

"No! I don't want to go see her! I hate spending the night at the hospital!"

"It's not a hospital, Potter."

"Well, I hate spending the night there! It's all white and cold and restrictive!"

"Yes, but she could give you the potion to get rid of your cold."

"I already told you I don't want it!"

Throughout their whole bickering session, Draco had noticed Potter's voice get weaker and weaker. Now, it was barely more than a whisper.

"Fine, Potter, be a stubborn git! Spend the night here for all I care!"

Draco was a bit put off by Potter's resistance to get instant help when that would've been logical. He marched out of the room, shut the door behind him, and cast the disillusionment charm on himself again, before walking away.

Strangely enough, he found himself in front of the Hogwarts kitchen.

What am I doing here of all places? He asked himself before removing the disillusionment charm, tickling the pear and entering.

It took about two milliseconds for Draco to be surrounded by about ten house-elves, all with wide eyes, and all ready to offer him some food.

"What would you like, Master Malfoy?"

Draco turned around at the familiar voice and smiled at his old house-elf, Dobby. He'd used to like Dobby a lot before he'd accidentally gotten free. Dobby still visited him every now and then, but usually with stories of how great Harry Potter was. Most of the time, Draco didn't hold that against him.

"Hello, Dobby! Do you have any chicken corn soup that I could have? And maybe some ice cold water?" Draco had always tried to be polite, even to house-elves, and he treated Dobby the same.

"Of course, Master Malfoy! We'll get you what you require immediately!"

"Actually, I'll be right back, I need to get something. Please have the food ready by the time I get back."

Dobby and the other house-elves nodded to the Draco and he walked out of the kitchen. Then, he remembered one more thing and reentered the kitchen.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" A new house-elf asked, her eyes wide.

"Can you also prepare some fruit, preferably oranges, and a lot of chocolate?"

"Of course!"

"Thanks a lot!"

And he left yet again, replacing the disillusionment charm, this time heading towards the Slytherin common room. He quickly murmured the password and headed up to his dorm room. He knew the others would be there, but he hoped they'd be asleep by now. It was about one in the morning. They usually didn't stay up late unless there was something important to discuss, and as far as he knew, there wasn't anything of the sort.

Besides, they wouldn't be able to see him anyway. But, they might get suspicious if they saw the door opening and closing, and an invisible person rummaging through his trunk.

Draco sighed in relief when he opened the door to his dorm room and saw all the lights turned off. He heard snores coming from every bed that was occupied currently, and smirked. They all seemed to be sleeping like babies. That would make his task so much easier.

He went to his trunk and found some a scarf and a hat, some warm robes, and towel. He also grabbed the remainders of the Dreamless Sleep Potion he had and pocketed as much as he could.

He made sure that everyone was still asleep before slipping out of the dorm and heading back to the kitchen. There he was greeted with the food he'd asked for all placed rather nicely on a tray. The soup and the hot water had warm steam floating off, and the smell tempted Draco incredibly well. He shook his head, grabbed the tray, thanked the house-elves, and was well on his way to the seventh floor.

However, on his way there, he heard something. Cursing lightly, he remembered that he'd forgotten to put the disillusionment charm back on himself after taking it off in the kitchen. He quickly made himself invisible once again, along with the tray of food, and levitated it. He looked around to see if there was anyone there and cursed again.

Mrs. Norris was standing around the corner and staring straight at Draco. He suddenly knew that she knew he was there and decided to watch her. She turned around, probably to go look for Filch and tell him about the new troublemaker. Once she'd disappeared, Draco hurried on his way to the seventh floor. He remembered what the three had done before to get the room to appear, so he did the same thing. The first time he tried, it was to no avail. However, the second time, the room seemed to hear him and appeared. He shut the door behind him and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He was definitely one of those people who hated Mrs. Norris.

"Who's there?" A familiar voice croaked out. Potter seemed to have gotten weaker while Draco had been gone.

"Who do you think, Potter?" He remarked snidely.

"I thought you'd left for good, Malfoy?"

"How unfortunate for you. I actually feel kind today. So, you're going to have to suffer through me taking care of you, Potter. You'd better thank me when you're all better. Oh, and tell Granger that I didn't do anything to harm you, will you? I don't want to have to embarrass her in front of the whole school tomorrow morning."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Potter sat up in the bed and looked at Malfoy with suspicious eyes.

"I said I'm going to take care of you until you get better, Potter!"

"But…why?"

"So I can spread rumors about how weak you are when you're sick!"

"Everyone's weak when they're sick!"

"I'm not!" Malfoy smirked at the younger boy.

"Yeah right!" Potter finally replied before entering another bout of coughs.

"Whatever, Potter, believe for now what you want."

Draco finally removed the disillusionment charm off of himself, cursing his lack of an invisibility cloak. That was when Potter noticed the food that was there for him.

"How does your throat feel?" Draco asked, levitating the tray over to the dining table.

"Like someone's rubbed sandpaper all over it."

"Can you eat or drink anything?"

"Haven't tried."

"When's the last time you ate, Potter?"

"Dinner yesterday."

"You should eat more often, Potter, especially when you're sick. You get weaker because you don't have enough food to create energy for your body."

"How'd you know so much about science, Malfoy?" Potter asked. He climbed out his bed rather quickly and walked over to Draco. He stood by the chairs refusing to sit down.

"Oh, for god's sakes, sit down!" Draco nearly screamed. Potter, after seeing the worried look on Draco's face, reluctantly did as he was told.

"Now, you're going to be good, and eat some of this chocolate."

Draco peeled back the wrapper and broke off a piece of chocolate for Potter. The latter looked at the chocolate suspiciously before deeming it safe. He gobbled it down quicker than Draco had ever done himself. He, secretly, was a chocolate addict.

"You act like you haven't had chocolate in forever, Potter."

"I had it just a few days ago, for your information. But I love chocolate, if you must know."

Draco smirked at Potter. At least they had something in common.

"Can I have some more?" Potter looked at Draco with pleading eyes before reaching out and grabbing the chocolate bar for himself. He ate it piece by piece, but it still took him less than a couple of minutes to eat the whole thing.

"A bit of a chocolate addict, are you?"

"So what if I am? Chocolate is wonderful. It should be its own food group! It should rule the world!" Potter's eyes had widened and a fire had entered them as well, all from defending chocolate.

Draco stared at Potter's sudden outburst, before he started laughing. Okay, so now they had three things they had in common. Draco had yet to meet someone as obsessed with chocolate as he was. He would give up his life for chocolate. It was always on the top of his Christmas and Birthday list every year; that was why he was a rather easy person to shop for. That was why he received gifts from his mother all the time at school. His addiction to chocolate was one of his greatest secrets and he was perfectly okay with that. He loved chocolate more than life itself.

"What, Malfoy? Find that funny, do you?"

"It's hilarious!"

"Why?"

"Because you're the only person I've met that feels the same way about chocolate as I do!" And then, Draco shut up. He hadn't meant to reveal to Potter that he was in love with chocolate.

A silence ensued which was only broken when Draco tried to get Potter to eat some of the chicken corn soup. However, Potter vehemently refused.

"That's going to hurt!"

"Yes, but it'll make you feel better!"

"But it's too hot!"

"Potter, just have the damn thing!"

Draco was really starting to lose his patience with this newly annoying Potter, who normally seemed confident and ready to fight Draco. However, now he was acting like a little kid.

"No! It's too hot!"

"Fine, we can let it cool down a little. But in the meantime, you're going to have to do what I say!"

"You're not going to go all perverted on me, are you?"

That stopped Draco in his tracks and a smirk graced his features. It wasn't like his usual smirk…it held more mischief and a load of evil ideas.

"Not unless you want me to, Potter. But that's kinky, you know? Having a crush on your rival, eh?"

"Only in your dreams, Malfoy."

"I did not need to know that you dream about me, Potter." Draco then turned to Potter and stood above him, making it impossible for the younger boy to go anywhere without having to go through Draco first.

"I – I didn't mean it like that, and you know it!"

"Oh, so you're awake when it happens?"

"I – N – Agh, Malfoy, you're twisting this to fit your own ideals!"

"Are you suggesting that I think you're fit?"

"Well maybe I am!"

"For your information, you may be fit, but you're nowhere near as fit or good looking as me!"

"So you admit I'm fit!"

"Yes, Potter, you're very fit."

"Okay, that's kind of creepy…"

"What? Not used to guys telling you that?"

"I'm not used to anyone telling me that actually…"

"Really? What about your fan club?"

"I have a fan club?"

"Yes. We both do. We probably have the two largest fan clubs in the whole school. Everyone knows about them!"

"I don't!"

"Well, obviously!"

"What?"

"Anyway, Potter, drink your soup! It should've cooled down enough by now."

Draco leaned closer to Potter, smirking the whole time, and reached around him to grab the now cool soup. He pulled back and placed the soup right in front of Potter's face, between him and the younger.

"W – What? Oh, yeah…soup!" Potter quickly grabbed a hold of the bowl and started drinking the soup as if it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. It wasn't long before the bowl was empty except for a few drops of soup.

"Thanks a lot, Malfoy! I think I'm going to just go to sleep now!"

Draco quickly moved out of the way of Potter, who seemed like he was on a mission that he just had to accomplish, still smirking.

"You realize that with the headache you probably have, you won't be able to go to sleep right?"

"I'll be fine! Anyway it's not like we have any Dreamless Sleep Potion here."

"Well, would you know, I actually thought to bring some for you, Potter! You should be looking at me as if I'm your savior!"

"…You know you'll never get to look at you like that right?"

"Open your mouth, Potter, and take the potion."

"Fine."

Potter stayed awake for about two minutes after taking the potion; then he collapsed where he was sitting. Draco placed his hand on Potter's back and made him lie down. He decided to check on the sick boy's temperature once more and cursed when he noticed how high it was.

And yet, Potter's face wasn't flushed at all. He wasn't shivering or sweating. You wouldn't have even been able to tell that Potter was sick unless you heard him cough and felt his temperature.

"Damn you, Potter!"

Draco summoned the icy water, which was still, thankfully, still had ice cubes floating in it, and pulled out the towel that was stuffed into one of his pockets. He sat down on the floor, on his knees, next to the bed. He dipped the towel in the water and then placed it on Potter's head. He left it there, put out the fire that was still going in the fireplace, and stared at Potter for a while.

Draco had a soft, lightly annoyed look on his face as he watching the sleeping Golden Boy for a while. The boy was breathing softly, his stomach rising and falling with each breath. He had a peaceful look on his face and for the first time Draco noticed dark circles underneath his eyes. So what he'd heard about Harry having dreams that connected him to the Dark Lord was true.

Draco felt sorry for the boy. He himself had yet to meet the Dark Lord, but all of his family was preparing him for it. They knew it wasn't going to long before the Dark Lord assigned him his first task, but no one seemed to know what it was.

Draco continued using the poultice on Potter until his fever seemed to go down to an acceptable temperature. When he finally finished, Potter turned over in his sleep to face him, tiny drops of water running down his forehead.

Draco almost groaned when he saw what time it was, about five in the morning. He'd been looking after Potter almost all night!

It was then that his tiredness caught up with. As soon as he'd put the towel back into the bowl, Draco collapsed next to Potter, his head and arms on the bed.

He didn't notice when Potter's hands came seeking his own. He also didn't notice how tightly he held on to the warmth that Potter's hands offered.

"Hermione! Do we have to check on him this early? It's only seven!" A tired Ron Weasley complained to his female best friend.

"Yes, it's seven, and it's been hours since we last saw Harry! He could be dead by now for all we know! Did you notice his fever last night?" Hermione chided her friend, leading the way to the Room of Requirement, where they'd hidden Harry, at his request, the previous night. However, she was even more worried about what Malfoy was sure to have done to her best friend. She didn't know why she'd left Harry's rival and archenemy in the same room as him while he was sick. It had seemed like a logical thing to do at time in the night, but now she was worried sick about her friend. What if Malfoy had decided to not acknowledge her threat?

When they entered the Room of Requirement the two stopped in their tracks.

"What the bloody hell is Malfoy doing in here?" Ron almost screamed, reaching for his wand.

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione grabbed his hand to stop him from cursing their enemy.

"But, 'Mione! He's a git! And…blimey! I think he's holding on to Harry's hand! Let me have a go at him, please!"

"No! Just wait quietly, or I'll stop helping you with your homework!"

That shut Ron up.

Hermione walked up to the dining table and looked at everything that was there. From what she could tell, Malfoy had brought Harry soup, and Harry's favorite: chocolate. He'd also brought some fruit, but it seemed he hadn't told Harry to eat any yet.

She then turned to the bed and saw the bowl of water and the towel. Lightly, she felt Harry's temperature and sighed in relief when she realized that it had gone down a lot. Then she turned to Malfoy.

He looked more haphazard than she'd ever seen him, and she knew it was because he was probably tired from taking care of Harry all night. She smiled at the connection the two had while sleeping next to each other. She didn't know why, but she'd always thought that something could happen between the two rivals. She'd just never figured out how.

"He's fine, Ron. Let's go get some breakfast."

"Are you sure? What about Malfoy?"

"Let's go, Ron!" She pushed him out of the door and closed it behind her.

When Harry awoke, he felt a hell of a lot better. Sure, he still had a killer headache, and his throat still felt like it had been rubbed for hours upon hours on end with sandpaper, but he still felt better. He raised his left hand up to his forehead and sighed in content. His temperature felt a lot cooler, even to him, and for that he was extremely glad. The fever had made him want to sleep his days away.

If it hadn't been for Malfoy –

Harry jerked awake and sat up suddenly awakening the sleeping blonde next to him. He blushed when he noticed how tightly they were holding on to each other's hands, but he didn't try to let go.

Instead, he was staring into the blonde's eyes. And said blonde was staring back.

"Do you feel better now?" Malfoy finally asked, his voice sounding completely full of sleep.

"Yes…Listen…about what happened last night…"

"Don't worry about it. I won't tell anyone. We can act like it never happened."

Harry nodded to Malfoy, but he couldn't help the feeling of regret that washed over him when the blonde had said that. He'd also noticed the flash of something – what? Anger? Sadness? He didn't know – cross the blonde's eyes. A part of him wanted to address it but, but another part told him to hold his tongue. This was his rival, his archenemy, he was with, and just because of a small, random act of kindness they couldn't be friends. Could they?

Harry shook his head and then tried to get up, but had to finally notice their second problem: they were still holding hands.

Malfoy seemed to notice the problem when Harry had and they both just stared. After a while, they both decided to pull away.

When Malfoy's hand was out of his own, Harry felt a strange emptiness there. It seemed he wanted the hand back, but that was ridiculous, right?

"Right, Malfoy, I should probably be going now…"

Harry walked over to the dining table and grabbed some things which he stuffed into his pockets.

Draco watched Potter with careful eyes as Harry grabbed some food off the table.

He wondered what this strange feeling was that was bubbling up inside of him. Why'd he even stayed all night to help Potter feel better? He didn't know, but a large part of him was glad that he'd stayed.

Potter turned to walk over to the door. Then, he stopped and turned around.

"Oh! I forgot something!" Potter suddenly exclaimed.

"What?" Draco looked around for what Potter had forgotten.

"I just wanted to say…thanks, Draco…thanks for last night!"

Draco looked up, surprised to see Potter blushing. Wait…had he just called him by his first name?

"No problem, Harry…Anytime!" Draco replied, still in a daze. Pot – Harry nodded and walked out of the room, leaving a dazed Draco behind. He stood there for a long time before an incredulous thought struck him.

I think I might actually be falling for Harry Potter!

Okay, so what did you guys think? Did you like it/hate it? Anything I can improve on?

Should I put up a SEQUAL to this? If I did, it'd probably be the second chapter to this story, and it'd focus on their relationship developing. It'd probably be a short fluffy story. What do you guys think?

Thanks a lot for reading!