Disclaimer: Really. If we owned bishie!Harry and Draco we'd have better things to do with our time than write this. It would involve a cage. Believe me, we would if we could…
A/N: Collab. work, this is our first fic. Really, it was just an excuse to write kissage, but it evolved into several hundred pages of…well…kissage, basically. Enjoy!
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The two scowling boys fought viciously to get out of the narrow doorway first. They fell out together and were followed by two girls, one of whom was smirking, and another boy. The first two boys picked themselves up and glared angrily at each other. One boy was platinum blonde, the other raven. The two boys had the same slight frame although the raven-haired boy was infinitesimally taller. They made an interesting contrast, light against dark. With a last haughty look both boys whirled round and stalked in opposite directions. The smirking girl followed the raven boy.
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Hurling himself dispassionately onto the silver satin of his duvet, Draco tugged the thick emerald-green curtains shut around him before letting himself stretch lethargically out onto his back. Staring coldly at the canopy above him, as though everything that had irritated him today had been the personal fault of four square inches of green linen, he growled to himself and closed his eyes. It had been a long day. In his sixth year, tall and slim, he was platinum blonde with icy, dispassionate grey eyes, and even wearing a scowl his well-defined features were handsome. He grew every day to look a little more like his father Lucius, which was a constant sort of irritation to him. Not only were they related, he even looked like the wanker. A little breathless from hurrying up here, and cold despite the thick green Quidditch robes that he was now pulling tight around his slim frame, he shivered and the scowl deepened. Winter had to be the most intolerable season of the year, even hearing the word made him feel fractious and short-tempered.
Wincing slightly as a beam of the intrusive, too-bright dawn sunlight penetrated the thick covers and fell on his face; the youngest Malfoy narrowed weary grey eyes and buried his face in the warmth of his pillow desperately.
Becoming an animagus! How easy and exciting it had sounded over breakfast last week, when his eagle-owl had dropped that intriguing parcel onto his lap as he ate. Midnight studies had, perversely enough, seemed thrilling and secretive. As though he was one of the chosen few, favoured with a chance to do something that so few were permitted. Now, hours after his first lesson, his entire body aching with weariness, he wanted nothing more than forget the whole worthless business and succumb to the heady caress of sleep.
Except that he had divination in twenty minutes.
McGonagall's idea, of course. Witless old bat. Though as Dumbledore's right hand woman, what could they expect of that fool? He hadn't expected to become a fully-fledged animagus overnight, of course, but he had anticipated a practical, meaningful hour or two, some sort of accomplishment. What he had been given was a glorified history lesson, accompanied by Granger's pitiful squeals as she tried to prove her superior knowledge on yet another stimulating topic. How even a Weasley could put up with the irritating Mudblood was something he could never fathom, though he rarely allowed himself to descend to giving that distasteful concept much thought. Still, however vulgar and classless the Weasleys were, at the very least they were pure blood! Still, rumours had flown thick and fast since last year's Yule Ball, and everyone…except the two idiots in question, of course, realised how into each other they were. Why didn't Weasley just wear a sign on his forehead, for Merlin's sake, it might save him blushing quite so spectacularly all the time…
How he had ended up in a group with Granger, and some idiotic Hufflepuff…what had his name been? Finch-Fletchley, another mudblood, with more teeth than brain cells, according to Draco's first impression. More legs than brain cells, come to that.
Granger, Finch-Fletchley, and himself. Making up four, one 'gifted' student from each house, there was a nondescript, tolerable sort of a girl, pure blood at least, earnest and reserved: A typical Ravenclaw. He vaguely recalled her name to be Amsterdam. Mariah Amsterdam, or something along those lines. She couldn't have spoken more than a few words during the whole fun-filled evening…
The four of them had been sat around a small table in the dungeons; even Draco didn't recognise it, and he had been fairly convinced he knew the dungeons inside out, which was perversely irksome…he had supposed them as his territory, and found the anonymous room disconcerting. It had been cold and clammy, the torches only adding depth to the shadows, shivering slightly in the tiny grey-bricked room. McGonagall had been late, leaving him sitting and eyeing the others as he tried to measure them up. When she finally had arrived, all earnest praise for their selection and wise caution as to the seriousness of their commitment and the task, who should materialise from behind her in the doorway but Potter? Draco had just sat and stared in rather gormless surprise for a moment, before his expression darkened to disdain.
"And there was me thinking it was only one representative of each house…obviously I missed the memo saying that there are now two Gryffindor houses. Fantastic. Or is it simply that Potter is a house all to himself?" That was Draco's scornful drawl, raising an embittered sigh from Granger as she rushed to her feet with a piercing squeal of surprise and pride. He was honestly surprised that the entire castle hadn't been woken, and hurried down to see which poor owl had just spontaneously combusted due to one of Snape's nastier potions. 'Gee, Granger, your shout of 'Harry!' sounded like an owl on fire…' perhaps not a wise comment, though the scornful mutter had been too low for her to hear anyway…which was perhaps just as well, though her expression would have been priceless.
The next hour had been one of the most humiliating and onerous of Draco's life. Squashed uncomfortably close between Potter and Granger, of all people, having to duck severely to avoid being decapitated by the mudblood's spastic volunteering…it wasn't as though she needed to put her hand up anyway, there were only six people in the room!
He had spent most of that so called 'lesson' glaring at the floor from behind platinum blonde bangs, wishing it were Potter he were evil-ling so that the wriggling boy pressed against him would spontaneously combust, save him the trouble of hexing him. And two hours later, laden with parchment (charmed to only be decipherable to him, of course) defining the seven-hundred and sixty four separate regulations governing the use of Transformatory magic…honestly, to be frank he wasn't sure becoming an animagus was worth all the effort! Potter and Granger had spent their whole time speaking past him, leaning back to whisper across his back and giggle…childish, puerile Gryffindors. Besides, he could have sworn he heard his name…
Add 'gossip-whores' to that list, too. As though there weren't a veritable dictionary of none too flattering adjectives for Gryffindors in general. And Potter in particular. Damned Potter, always sticking his scar in where it wasn't wanted. And he had somehow contrived to know more about Animagi than Draco did! Which left the Slytherin decidedly put out and a little embarrassed. Knowing the Potters, he would bet his broomstick that scar-boy's father had been an animagi, too. It was ludicrously dangerous, completely forbidden and utterly foolhardy: put that way, it was impossible for James Potter not to have been involved!
Damn them, Potter and his no-good father, why should he waste precious sleep-time worrying about them? Sighing with veiled frustration at the waste of an entire night, the blonde turned on his side, not bothering to undress, and curled up with his head resting on his arm. He was asleep within moments; stealing what time he had still to sleep before Rosier woke him.
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Harry stormed down the dark corridors towards the Gryffindor common room, Hermione following closely behind. "Damn Malfoy! Stupid bloody prick! 'Oooh look at me! I'm a pureblood! I'm better than you! I lick Voldemort's boots! Oooh look at me, look at me!' Stupid bloody prick!" Harry muttered under his breath, not paying any attention to where he was going, his feet carrying him automatically in the right direction. (That and Hermione nudging him every so often.) His thoughts kept straying to seething about the annoying blonde boy. No matter where they were or what they were doing Malfoy always managed to infuriate Harry; whether it was with comments about his friends or house or merely by just being present, he managed it. Although you would have thought that after five years of being taunted by him Harry would be able to tune him out or Malfoy would be bored of doing it. "But no! He still manages to get under my skin! I swear he gets a kick out of doing it! I thought we'd left him nicely hexed on the train but once again the stupid twit has to bounce back! And he shows no sign of being hexed! At least Crabbe and Goyle still bear some scars, dumb posts! Damn, stupid, stupid bloody prick!"
Harry took time from his rant to notice that Hermione was still smirking. "What are you smirking at?!" he asked exasperated, snapping slightly. She had been smirking like that since both boys had been told to stop snapping at each other for about the fifth time, by Professor McGonagall. "You and Malfoy." Hermione replied nonchalantly, still smirking. "Me and Malfoy?!" Harry repeated faintly, his mouth dropping open in horror. Hermione just nodded although her smirk turned into barely veiled laughter at her friend's shock. Harry growled lowly at the shaking girl before mumbling the password (Godric) to a disgruntled Pink Lady. He fell through the portrait hole in his haste to enter the warmth, the common room making a welcome contrast from the cold dark corridors.
The common room was silent and empty except for a chair by the roaring fire, that was providing the only light to the room. Light snores were being emitted from the chair and as Harry and Hermione got closer they could see a shock of red hair, clashing horribly with the crimson of the seat, which ultimately belonged to Ron. Hermione shook him lightly and he swatted at her lazily. Hermione shook him again harder and he sat up straight, his eyes wide. He glanced around tense and alert before relaxing when he saw Hermione and Harry laughing at him. Ron glared at them before asking, "Good animagi lesson?" Harry groaned while Hermione laughed harder. Harry offered no words only glared into the fire so Ron looked expectantly at Hermione. "It was…different." She choked out, still laughing.
"Malfoy's taking them too!" Harry spat. Ron looked sympathetically at Harry, whilst shooting bemused glances at a still spluttering Hermione.
Once she had calmed down she explained to Ron, "He wasn't very impressed that two Gryffindors got to take lessons, a view which he voiced loudly."
"He got told to shut up, though, as Professor McGonagall went on to tell him, Justin and Mariah that Dumbledore had suggested it." Harry added.
"Mariah?" Ron asked confused.
"The Ravenclaw who got picked." Harry explained. "Quiet, half caste, long dark hair." Ron nodded, desperately trying to recall the girl.
"After that Malfoy grumbled under his breath for another couple of minutes before getting told to shut up once again by Professor." Hermione concluded while Ron laughed at Malfoy's misfortune. Hermione's laughter restarted as she remembered Malfoy's indignant face. Harry rolled his eyes; for the millionth time thinking about what a good couple the two would make if only they would stop being so blind.
Over the top of their laughter Harry asked, "Do you still want to learn how to become an animagus, Ron?" Ron nodded eagerly quelling his laughter. Hermione stopped too, "Its lots of work, there are seven-hundred and sixty four regulations just about the use of Animagi!" she told him.
"Well the two of you are learning: we can learn together like usual." Ron pointed out. Harry nodded; he wasn't going to become animagus if Ron wasn't too. Hermione just rolled her eyes before wishing goodnight to the two boys and disappearing off to her dormitory. The boys followed her example a couple of moments later.
As Harry collapsed into his warm bed, pulling the drapes tightly closed, he thought once again of how cold the dungeons must be to sleep in. as he lay staring at the ceiling though his thoughts were about two hours ago in the Animagi lesson. The annoyance on Malfoy's face had been priceless. Hermione's face had been amusing too although her screech had been cringe worthy. Harry had known Hermione was taking lessons, so had Ron, but only Ron had known Harry was also going to be taking them. When Harry had learnt he was being given the chance he had been ecstatic. The chance to become an animagus like his dad had been and Sirius was. The prospect of learning had dulled when he'd learnt it meant sharing an extra two hours a week in the presence of Malfoy. Harry was comforted by the thought that Hermione would be there keeping him from going insane or worse, killing Malfoy. Or maybe killing Malfoy was better, Harry mused. Harry knew that his and Hermione's whispering behind his back (literally) had grated Malfoy's nerve. A fact Harry took great delight in, that and the fact he knew more on Animagi than Malfoy. That had left the blonde boy sore. Harry vaguely wondered whether Malfoy would find a way to twist it against him. Probably.
Another thing was eating at Harry's mind too. Dumbledore had said that Harry being an animagus would help him to defeat Voldemort and Voldemort most likely wouldn't be expecting it; but wouldn't Malfoy tell his father who would obviously tell Voldemort?! The fact that Malfoy knew was bothering Harry but he trusted Dumbledore so he growled at himself for thinking about it too much. Glancing at his watch, Harry saw that it was almost six. He groaned, rolling onto his front. His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was; "I have no clue what animal I want to become. I wonder if Ron or 'Mione do?"
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