***

See disclaimer in Chapter 1. Sadly, not mine. Lady_Aubrey rocks for all her patience and hard work!

***

Draco Malfoy was dreaming. Not just any dream – a wonderful dream he never wanted to end. He was curled around Harry Potter, both of them blissfully naked. The bed was harder than he usually preferred, but the discomfort was easy to ignore given who he had his arms around. Unlike most of his dreams about Harry, they were sleeping, not fucking, but Draco was enjoying it nonetheless.

Draco groaned as consciousness threatened – he could hear Pansy's shrill voice cutting through the warm cocoon of his dreamscape. How many times have I warned her not to wake me up? He felt Pansy's cold hand against his bare chest, shivering slightly at the shock of it. That's what we get for living in the dungeons, he thought crankily, sleepily batting the offending appendage away.

He started when he felt the tip of her shoe nudge his bare hip. What the fuck does she think she's doing? Is she standing on my bed? Draco grumped at her, muttering a string of nonsensical threats as he turned onto his side, trying to get away from her. He paused as he encountered warm, naked flesh – the same warm, naked flesh he'd been holding in his dream.

Draco's eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake. He blinked, pain shooting through his skull as he swiveled his head to find out who was in bed with him. Or rather, who was curled up on the floor with him, he amended, noticing for the first time that the hard bed in his dream was actually cold stone covered by a scratchy wool rug. His bleary eyes focused slowly, the throbbing in his head making it difficult to concentrate. He saw a tanned arm slung across his torso, which was attached to a muscled and equally tanned shoulder. His gaze followed the arm up, and he nearly choked when he realized it hadn't been a dream at all – he and Harry Potter were naked, wrapped around each other like Kneazle and a ball of yarn.

"Finally!" Pansy said, huffing out a sigh as she stepped back. Her words hadn't been loud, but Draco flinched as though she'd yelled.

"What the fuck?" he growled, his voice rough with sleep.

"That's what we'd like to know," a new voice piped in, and Draco went through the laborious process of turning his head once more to find its source. Great, he thought, wincing. Granger.

He was saved from answering by Harry's return to consciousness. The Gryffindor got his bearings much faster than Draco had, pulling himself out of the blond's embrace seconds after opening his eyes. Harry sat up quickly, fumbling to pull the blanket – their only blanket – around his naked body, leaving Draco completely exposed.

"Damn it, Potter!" Draco barked, tugging the thin blanket back toward him. The tussle continued for several seconds, ending when Hermione whipped out her wand and cast a Severing Charm, giving each boy his own half.

Harry hiked the ragged fabric up to his armpits, securing it around himself toga-style before getting shakily to his feet. He felt like a herd of Hippogriffs had been let loose in his head.

"Mione?" he asked, squinting at the dark-haired girl in front of him.

"Over here, Harry," Hermione said, grinning. Harry took the glasses someone placed in his hand, surprised to see he'd been looking at Pansy Parkinson.

"Have a good weekend?" Pansy asked innocently, her wolfish smile giving her away.

Draco groaned, covering his face with his hands. He pressed hard against his closed eyes, hoping to dull the ache in his head enough to somehow salvage the situation.

"Did someone forget their Hangover Potion?" Pansy continued, tutting loudly. "You're usually so good about that, Drake." She turned to Hermione, shaking her head. "He brews his own, you know. It's completely tasteless. He usually slips it into the drinks before imbibing, but I guess he must have been … distracted … last night."

Harry cringed under Pansy's appraising stare, his cheeks coloring as her gaze drifted over his body. The body she'd seen completely naked, wrapped around Draco Malfoy just minutes before. His blush deepened.

"Looks that way," Hermione agreed, narrowing her eyes at the scene before her. The empty Firewhisky bottle lay on its side in front of the fireplace, and their clothes were scattered about haphazardly, exactly where they'd thrown them the night before. She held her hand out expectantly, nodding when two vials appeared out of thin air. "Take these."

Harry obediently grabbed one of the vials, uncorking it and tossing it back without a second thought. Draco was more careful. He stood slowly, not caring that his blanket slipped, pooling at his feet. He knew he had a brilliant body, and they'd already gotten a good look earlier. He took the second vial, uncorking it and sniffing at its contents warily. He gagged slightly at the overpowering scent of billywig stings, grimacing as he held the potion away from himself.

"Just drink it, Draco," Pansy snapped, narrowing her eyes as she glared across the room at him.

He sighed, holding his breath as he downed the potion in one swallow. The aftertaste of fluxweed made him gag again, his hand clapping over his mouth automatically to stop himself from vomiting up the potion.

"Ugh," he said, swallowing several times in an attempt to wash the taste of the potion off his tongue.

"So, last night?" Hermione asked, tossing Harry his denims.

Harry blushed again, quickly donning the trousers under the cover of his blanket. His cheeks burned even hotter when he caught sight of a pair of boxers near the sofa; he hooked them around his toes, grabbing them quickly and stuffing them in his pocket. Draco seemed unaffected by his own nudity, slowly donning his wrinkled trousers when Pansy handed them to him.

"A drinking game that got out of hand," Harry said swiftly, ducking his head so he didn't have to meet anyone's gaze.

"Is that all?" Pansy asked, clearly disappointed. She looked from Harry to Draco, waiting for one of them to expound on the statement.

Draco opened his mouth to say it had been a bit more than that when he caught sight of Harry's mortified face. Was it not more than that? Draco wondered, snapping his mouth shut.

"That's all," Harry said, and Draco bit his tongue to keep his angry retort back.

"A wasted weekend, then," Hermione said, carefully studying Harry's beet-red face.

"We weren't here by choice," Harry reminded her, glaring at his friend as he collected his shirt from the back of the chair, slipping into it angrily.

"Since you're here, I assume the door is no longer locked?" Draco asked, his voice cold. Harry stiffened slightly at the haughty tone – one he hadn't heard all weekend.

"We have Potions in twenty minutes," Pansy said, watching the way Harry and Draco gave each other a wide berth as they moved toward the door.

"I'll see you there, then," Draco said, his hand on the doorknob. He turned to Hermione and Harry, bowing stiffly before he left. "Granger. Potter."

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged, inclining his head slightly. He frowned as Pansy swept past him, a glacial look on her face. "Parkinson."

***

"Nothing at all?" Hermione asked, her brows drawn together as she frowned at Harry.

Harry sighed, dropping his quill in his inkpot. It was clear Hermione wouldn't stop nagging him until he told her what happened during his two-day captivity in the Room of Requirement. She'd been pestering him all day, and he knew it would continue tomorrow if he didn't talk to her. He set his Transfiguration essay aside, leaning closer to her so they wouldn't be overheard. The Gryffindor common room was mostly deserted, but he didn't want this getting out.

"A little something," he said, frowning as he thought of his drunken encounter with Draco. "But it hardly counts. I was so drunk I'd probably have made a move on anyone – even Ginny."

"I doubt that, Harry."

"Oh, fine, probably not," he admitted. He struggled to get the traitorous blush under control – he'd spent most of the day scarlet, his cheeks coloring every time he thought of Draco. "It was a moment of weakness on my part."

"Just a moment?" the witch asked, her brown eyes studying his face intently.

"That's all it can be," he said, his voice sad. "He's messed around with half of the school, and the other half is in line."

Harry shook his head, absently plucking at a loose button on his robes, his mind on his surprisingly pleasant weekend with the Slytherin.

"The same could be said of you, Harry," Hermione said, continuing quickly when green eyes narrowed dangerously. "That everyone in school wants you, I mean. The only person who's more sought after is Malfoy. The two of you together …"

"Is impossible," Harry said harshly, frowning at his friend. "I know why you did it, Mione, but that doesn't mean I agree with you. You're lucky I'm speaking to you at all, after what you pulled. We survived the weekend, but that's it."

"Why, Harry? What's stopping you from giving him a chance?"

Harry laughed derisively, shaking his head.

"It was just a dare, Mione," he said, pursing his lips. "He's never shown the slightest interest in me. Just leave it alone."

Hermione shut her mouth, sitting back in her chair. She knew Draco had feelings for Harry, but it was clear that Harry hadn't figured that out. She and Pansy had done everything they could to get the two of them together, but ultimately, it was up to the boys to work it out.

"If you say so," she said, sounding unconvinced.

***

" – saw the look on his face, Pans. He couldn't get out of there fast enough," Draco said, taking another pull from the bottle of Ogden's in his hand.

"He was just embarrassed. You know how those Gryffindors are – all that senseless modesty and propriety."

"It was more than that," Draco said, slurring his words slightly. He'd been drinking since dinner, trying to erase Harry's mortified expression from his mind. "He's no blushing virgin. It was me."

Pansy grabbed the bottle, squinting as she peered at it, trying to figure out exactly how much Draco had already imbibed. He had an incredible tolerance – she knew if he'd made a move on Harry last night, he'd been fully aware of what he was doing.

"So you're just going to pretend it never happened?" she asked, tossing the half-full bottle in the bin with a censorious look at the blond, who was sitting on the floor, lounging back against his bed.

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back to reach into his trunk. He disappeared from view for a moment, rummaging around before emerging with a full bottle of vodka.

"That's the plan."

***

Pansy and Hermione stood side-by-side in silence, carefully pruning pots of Chinese Chomping Cabbages in Greenhouse Three. Professor Sprout passed them without a word, leaning in to watch as they gingerly lifted the cabbages' outer leaves to trim them. She gave them both a curt nod, walking away to observe the next table, her hands folded behind her back.

"So that's it, then?" Pansy hissed as soon as the professor was out of range. "Potter's just going to sit back and do nothing?"

Hermione squinted at her plant, carefully separating the leaves with her finger so she could work the pruning shears underneath. Like most plants harvested for potions, Chinese Chomping Cabbages had adverse reactions to magical pruning, which meant they had to do it by hand.

"Well, yes," Hermione said, tilting her head to see if she'd gotten the last cut right. "They both seem certain it would be a disaster. Maybe they're right. Besides, Malfoy hardly seems too put out."

It had been two weeks since Harry and Draco's weekend in the Room of Requirement, and the blond Slytherin had been busy. He'd reportedly been making judicious use of the Astronomy Tower with anyone – male or female – who was willing to give it a go.

"Oh, that," Pansy said dismissively, waving her shears. "Isn't it obvious what he's doing? He's trying to prove he doesn't need Potter."

"He's doing a good job of it," Hermione said, casting a surreptitious glance at Harry's table. He and Ron were poking at their cabbage, jumping back and laughing every time the plant snapped at them. "Harry's convinced."

Pansy shrugged, letting out a squeak of alarm when her cabbage tried to bite her finger.

"He's a Slytherin, Granger," she said, giving her plant a careful berth. "What should he be doing? Crying in front of the fire with a bottle of Butterbeer like a Gryffindork? Life goes on. Besides, he's just trying to get Potter's attention."

Hermione set her shears down on the table, giving Pansy a pointed look.

"He definitely has it. You should have seen the look on Harry's face last night when Lavender Brown flounced in wrapped in the shirt Malfoy had been wearing at dinner!"

Pansy grinned, poking her plant delicately to see if it had calmed down yet.

"Well, there you go. A sign of devotion. Draco's very particular about his clothing. He'd never have given away his shirt unless he wanted Harry to notice."