Rating is M for later chapters.
Not sure if this idea is any good so reviews are gold :) First chapter is short to get a feel as to weather or not to go on.
If I owned HP then it would be Harry Malfoy.
That is all :)
Harry Potter ran his hands through his bed messed hair, fingers lingering on his scar that throbbed slightly, and reached over for his glasses. The sun was streaming in and he squinted, trying to hold on to the last moment of sleep before the rush of the day caught up with him. Ginny must have opened them before going down stairs early. His hand fumbled over the wooden table besides the bed, searching. When he was sure neither his wand nor his glasses were there he sighed, rolled over and began groping under the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed over a foreign object, he hesitated and felt again. It was a book by the feel of it. He grasped the slippery hardback cover and tried to pull it up. It slipped from his fingers and he tried again, this time catching it and bringing it up to his face where he squinted at the cover. Edward Smith and the Philosophers Stone. The illustration was of a train almost identical to the Hogwarts Express, only the platform was 8 and ½ and the train name was the Hobswart Express. Harry felt a deep, sharp stab twisting in his gut and his eyes snapped open fully for the first time. Rich green velvet drapes hung from the four poster bed he lay in, the sheets were a silken purple the likes of which Ginny would have positively hated. He shot up from the bed to find himself standing on thick, shag pile carpet, far less practical than his own wood floorboards. He tried to wandlessly Accio his glasses but nothing. He crouched beside the bed, needing his glass if he stood any chance of properly working out where he was. He finally found them dusty and half way back, cleaned them furiously on the sheets and shoved them on. As he did so the handle of the door behind him clicked and he spun to face whoever may have brought him here. The last thing he was expecting was the tray laden with food and, if his eyes hadn't completely failed him, a flower in a little vase This preceded the familiar blonde haired man Harry had come to hate so well.
'Malfoy!' He felt his fists automatically clench at the sight of the man before him.
'Harry, I thought I asked you to stay in bed! I wanted to surprise you.' The pout that came with it stumped Harry so completely that his fists relaxed and his mouth snapped shut. 'Though I do like to see you so… ready for me this early in the morning.' The seductive drawl caused Harry to look down at himself. Himself naked and, well, ready. Thankfully for Harry at that moment his scar burned in a way it hadn't done for nearly 15 years and he slid into blissful unconsciousness.