Harry Potter simply didn't want to get up. And it was as simple as that. It was Monday, and on Mondays, he had Potions first thing. And of course, he was still exhausted, so there was that.

Nothing could get him out of bed.

"Harry, get up!" Hermione screeched, giving him a shove out of bed and onto the floor.

Well, there was that. Nothing could match an angry Hermione.

Harry rubbed sleep out of his eyes and jammed his glasses on as Hermione flipped Ron off of his mattress, issuing a groan and a string of curse words from him.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what is wrong with you?!" he snapped, getting up and rubbing his back.

"You wouldn't get up." Hermione calmly replied, leaving the dormitory so they could get changed.

Ron looked over at Harry, shrugging out of his pajama top. "She's absolutely mental."

Harry gave a nod as he put his shirt and trousers on, but he wasn't really paying attention. Instead, as he was digging through his trunk for his robes, he was trying to think of how he would face Snape this early in the day.

The outcome didn't seem that great.

Draco Malfoy swished his pumpkin juice around in his goblet, and his eyes kept darting to the door. Like he was waiting for someone. But who would the great Draco Malfoy even be waiting for?

Even Draco didn't know. Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise were all here at the table. That was all he needed.

But then Potter walked in with Granger and Weasley, chatting with them about something and making grand motions with his hands in the air. Malfoy's heart immediately skipped a beat, but then he slammed his hand into his chest.

No, Malfoy, he thought to himself. It's just stupid Potter. You see him everyday.

"Draco? Are you alright?" came Pansy's voice from his left.

"I'm fine." Draco snarled. "Something went down the wrong way."

Like his heart at the moment.

Suddenly, silver locked eyes with green, and Draco felt his cheeks heat.

No, stop it!

Then Harry rudely flipped Draco off.

Draco slammed his hand on the table, nearly rising out of his seat. That rude little motherfu-

"Draco, what's wrong with you? You're acting strange."

"I'm fine, Pansy, my stomach is hurting."

Which wasn't a lie. Not completely, anyways. Draco's stomach was flipping and flopping and twisting and turning all over the place. But in ways he had never felt before.

And little did he know, all the way on the other side of the hall, that a certain Gryffindor was feeling the same exact nausea in his own stomach.

Harry nervously licked his lips as he sat down in the Potions dungeon, his hands sitting on his stomach. It had been feeling horrible all morning, like he was going to puke. But of all the places to hurl, he certainly didn't want it to be in Snape's class. He'd probably get points deducted for making a mess everywhere.

His hands twitched as Ron slid into the seat beside him. He was a little bit on edge, and he couldn't figure out why.

"You okay, mate? Your cheeks look a little green." Ron questioned.

"I'm fine, Ron. I must've ate something bad at the breakfast table earlier." Harry replied.

But truth be told, he hadn't eaten much at all. Only a piece of toast, an apple, and a goblet of juice. He had felt so sick to his stomach, afraid to eat anything in case he threw up.

But why did he feel like this? It had all started when he and Malfoy had locked eyes earlier when he first came in.

Why was he staring, Harry asked himself. He couldn't stop looking at me. I couldn't stop staring into his eyes.

And that was why Harry had given him the finger and walked away quickly. The knots in his stomach had appeared soon after that.

Speaking of Malfoy, there he was now, walking in with his cronies surrounding him. He had his usual smirk in place, but his eyes weren't glittering with mirth like always. In fact, he looked just as sick as Harry felt.

Their eyes locked once more for a split second, and the knot in Harry's stomach disappeared. For one moment, it was all okay. But then he looked away, and the knots were right back in place.

"Alright, students. Settle down." Snape said as he walked into the class, the candleabras on the wall flaring up. "Today, you will be making a Sleeping Draught. And, if it is successful, it will be tested on your partner."

Then he started pairing up everyone. Harry scooted closer to Ron, praying that Snape wouldn't split them up. But, alas, Snape wasn't imperceptible to this and swooped over.

"No, no. We're splitting up the dream team." Snape sneered, his black eyes glinting. "Weasley. Go sit with Parkinson. And you, Potter...Malfoy, come take Weasley's place."

Ron grumbled as he evacated his seat, nearly tipping over the stool in the process. Harry, on the other hand, fumed silently as Malfoy strode over.

"Don't fuck this potion up, Potter. Both of our grades are on the line." Malfoy drawled, sitting down in Ron's previous seat.

Harry rolled his eyes, opening up his textbook. This was going to be a long class.

"No, don't cut it from that side!"

"Well, it says-"

"That says the side, Potter. You're cutting from the top."

"But it's the same thi-"

"No, it's not. Do it correctly."

Draco was getting thoroughly annoyed. Couldn't Harry do anything right? It was like he was determined to mess the whole potion up, no wonder he was always failing this class.

But on the bright side, Draco's stomach had fixed itself. He felt a bit better now.

Harry made a whining sound at the back of his throat as he carefully slid the last ingredient inside the cauldron. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the classroom, and his face was perspirated from concentrating so hard.

Draco merely observed him, then noticed he was going a bit too fast.

"Stop. Don't pour all of it."

Before he knew what he was doing, his hand shot out and grabbed Harry's wrist, slowing the pouring to a trickle.

Harry's head turned to stare at him with that deer-in-headlights look. Then his eyes slid to Draco's hand, then back to his face.

Draco's cheeks began to flush light pink, and he took the cutting board from Harry's hands and busied himself with cleaning it off. He had felt that shock again, when his hand connected with Harry's skin. But this time, it felt...sort of soft. Not the hard static that he had felt on the train.

"Stir it clockwise five times. It should turn lavender." Draco commanded Harry, handing him a ladle.

Harry obliged, reaching out to grab it. Their hands connected this time, even though it was just a feathery touch. Draco felt another shock run through his arm and quickly pulled his hand away, rubbing it tenderly as Harry stirred the potion around.

The potion turned a smooth lavender color, swirls rising up from the top.

Harry broke into a grin, and Draco couldn't help but chuckle. It must've been the first potion that he had succeeded on.

Snape was upon them in a moment, giving a curt nod to their potion.

"Looks correct. Now, one of you will need to test it." he said, looking over at Harry. "Go ahead, Potter. Take a sip."

Harry paled but obliged, pouring a ladle of it into a flask. He drank it down, blinking for a moment. A dazed look flew over his face before his head went down onto the table. A few seconds later, soft snoring was issuing from him.

"Good job, Malfoy." Snape said, taking some of the potion into a vial and corking it. "He'll awaken in about fifteen minutes."

Then he walked away, leaving Draco alone with a sleeping Harry. Draco took this moment to see how the others were doing. Ron and Pansy were having a heated argument about why their potion was burgundy instead of lavender. Hermione, who had gotten stuck with Neville, was doing almost all of the work. Then, Draco turned his eyes to Harry.

Harry looked almost peaceful, a content expression on his face. His hair was flopping all over his face, and Draco resisted the urge to brush it away. He was actually quite nice to look at when he wasn't awake and having an argument with Draco.

Draco sighed, resting his chin on his hands. What was wrong with him? He was a Slytherin. He was a Malfoy, for goodness sake! He couldn't like Potter, of all people. And he didn't like boys. He wasn't like that.

Harry Potter was his enemy. Harry was so definitely his enemy.

But why did his stomach tie itself in knots when he wasn't around?