A/N: Hello all! I'm actually really proud of myself. I was reading and I thought, I should write something. So I did. All in one sitting! Whoot! And moving on....
Someone was touching his hair, brushing strands away from his forehead with gentle fingers, and Harry shifted drowsily in the chair. It was a pleasant feeling, that soft caress, and he didn't relish the thought that he'd have to wake soon and face the knowledge that he'd only dreamed it.
He jolted awake quickly when a sharp pain hit directly between his brows, though it took him a few blinks to focus on the figure standing just in front of him and a few more to figure out that the boy had flicked his head. "Wake up, Potter," Malfoy's dry voice ordered as he pulled his hand back. "You're drooling and you've wasted the whole lesson."
Harry groaned then and straightened his glasses before brushing a hand over his mouth. "You were sleeping when I got here," he protested, sitting up in the chair. He lifted his arms above his head, stretching. It didn't quite seem fair that, after causing Harry several sleepless nights, Malfoy had woken him from the first restful slumber he'd managed just to blame him for wasting time they both spent sleeping anyway.
"You should have woken me." Malfoy leaned back against the teacher's desk and sent a longing glance to the box of chocolates, still unopened. "As it is, if we leave now, we might get back to our dorms before curfew."
Harry stood from his seat then, so quickly that his chair fell backwards, clattering against the floor, and finally noticed the deep darkness of the sky outside, always the most obvious indication of the time. "Why didn't you wake me sooner?" he moaned, moving quickly to the door. Staying out past curfew was no problem for Malfoy. He was a prefect. But for Harry, who wasn't, it could get him into serious trouble. The last thing he needed was detention. He tripped no less than three times in the darkness, cursing his stupidity for not thinking of using his wand for light until he'd already crashed into the door.
"I was unaware that my job description according to the terms of our agreement included alarm clock, Potter," Malfoy answered and Harry glared over his shoulder at the Slytherin. The blond had done what Harry hadn't thought of and held his glowing wand aloft, the soft light helping him to cross the room without so much as bumping a shin. Malfoy stood behind him, his face expressionless as he looked down at Harry. "As all of Slytherin seemed to suffer from insomnia on the same night," he remarked casually, "I imagine that your house was somehow involved."
Even in the low light, Harry was sure Malfoy, standing only a foot away, could see the guilty flush that rose to his cheeks. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my idea and I wanted to warn you but..." he trailed off. Finishing that sentence would reveal more about Harry's revelations that he ever wanted Malfoy to know, so he chose instead to just clamp his mouth shut.
Malfoy nodded once. He understood the loyalty that was due to one's house, after all. He looked down at the box in his hand and held it out to Harry with a deep sigh. "For whatever reason, we were unable to have our lesson today. As much as I'd like to keep the chocolate anyway, it would be dishonest."
He pushed the box into Harry's hands with the air of someone who felt he'd regret the move if he didn't get it over with quickly. Then he moved around Harry and reached for the door. "Malfoy," Harry called and turned sharply, ripping open the package as he moved. He was slightly startled to find the boy much closer than before, and stepped back almost involuntarily. "Ummm, here," he held out an Almond Joy taken from the hastily opened box.
Malfoy lifted a brow and looked between Harry and the chocolate. It was obvious he wanted to take it, but for a moment Harry wasn't sure he would. "An exchange then, Potter," the Slytherin said softly and reached out for the bar, his warm hand resting over Harry's. Without pulling the candy away, Malfoy leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in Harry's ear, though there was no one around who could possibly hear, "My Slytherins are dying for revenge and a smart lion would do well to keep a careful eye out."
Then Malfoy was gone, the door opening and closing behind him so quickly that Harry might not have believed the boy had actually left if the empty room around him wasn't the proof. He walked out much more slowly than he should have, considering the prefects would soon begin making rounds, looking for students out past curfew. But his mind was too busy with other things to focus on only a vague possibility of being caught. Things like Malfoy's warning, Malfoy's honesty, and the calmness of Malfoy's sleeping face.
Halfway to Gryffindor Tower, Harry was struck by the memory of his drowsy realization. Though late in coming, his panic hit him head on and he froze, standing alone in the darkened hall.
He had a crush on Malfoy.
He had a crush on Malfoy?
He had a crush on Malfoy!
Why wasn't that something he could have figured out before he'd seen that the blond could be kind? Then he at least could have kept telling himself that it was ridiculous and eventually moved on. Harry looked down at the box, only one chocolate missing from the dozen and closed his eyes. That bit of integrity Malfoy had shown had been completely unexpected and Harry knew, he just knew, that he would be thinking about it, and thus about Malfoy, much more than he'd ever actually admit.
The sound of footsteps and soft voices echoing down the hall toward him was the only thing that set Harry back in motion. He was thankful to find the common room mostly empty and quickly made his way up the stairs to his bed, which would be much more comfortable than a cramped desk. Even so, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get to sleep that night, after his several hours long nap.
He showered and dressed in clean pajamas before slipping beneath his blankets. Curled in his bed, he shifted to slip his hand under his cheek, then pulled it back to stare at his fingers. The warmth of Malfoy's hand on his still clung to his memory and Harry could swear that he could feel the other boy even now. He smiled at the thought.
In the bright light the following morning, he might feel embarrassed and a bit silly, but that night, with only the faintest moonlight breaking through the curtains, it seemed perfectly natural that he curled his hand next to his head and imagined that the gentle touch that had stirred him earlier had been Malfoy's fingers, silently and sweetly calming his worries and thoughts. And Harry fell blissfully into sleep.
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It didn't take long at all for Harry to discover what Malfoy had meant in that whispered warning of revenge. He was awakened much earlier on Thursday morning than he appreciated. But it was hard to ignore the many screaming, screeching and yelling Gryffindors outside the dorm room door.
Sitting quickly, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stuck his head through the curtains on his bed. While the anger on the other side of the door was loud enough, it could only be called whispers when compared to Ron's furious roaring. "Look what those rats did, Harry!" Ron cried, only half-dressed and waving his tie in one hand and his robe in the other.
At first, Harry couldn't tell what was wrong. Then Ron paused his jerky movements to yell at Seamus and Harry choked back a gasp. Throwing his blankets aside and rushing from his bed, Harry moved to his own trunk, pulling out articles of his school uniform one by one.
It was there, on every single bit of Hogwarts issued clothing. The brilliant gold and scarlet that he'd become so used to, identified so closely with, were gone, replaced by Slytherin green and silver, right down to his quidditch robes. A glance around the room showed Dean and Seamus with similar expressions of shock. Only Neville seemed uncaring, but Harry had the sneaking suspicion that it was because, despite being almost fully dressed, Neville had yet to open his eyes.
With nothing else to wear, Harry reluctantly dressed. Ron followed suite, but not without grumbling his complaints. At least he wasn't yelling any longer and the silence in the room let Harry hear what was being said outside. From what he could gather, the same phenomenon had happened to every Gryffindor and a crowd had formed leading all the way to the dorm Fred and George shared with their year mates.
By the time they made their way to the common room, the twins were still unable to control the situation. It wasn't that they weren't trying, but once angered, it was difficult to calm a mob, especially one bent on laying blame. That the walls were now tinted green instead of their usual dusty red probably didn't help matters any. "We have to be honest with you," Fred admitted from his position standing atop one of the small but sturdy tables scattered about the room. "We've got no idea how they did this." He pulled at his tie, obviously uncomfortable wearing the colors of his rivals.
George was on another table nearby, rolling his sleeves up to hide the colors at his wrist, even if he couldn't do much about his tie. "You have to admit, it's pretty good, though," he commented with a winning smile.
Harry glanced down, wondering if he looked half as strange as the Weasleys did in green and silver. "This is all your fault!" he heard Lavender cry out and looked over at the girl. She seemed on the verge of tears and twisted her sweater tightly between her hands, as if by abusing the material she could change the colors back. "If you'd only kept it to that rotten stage crew, the rest of us wouldn't have to suffer!" Murmurs of assent rippled through the group.
"Oh, please. This is hardly suffering," Hermione called from the back of the room. To everyone else, she appeared completely unconcerned about the change in her uniform, merely straightening her tie as she stood on the bottom step of the girls' stairs. Harry knew otherwise though, and he and Ron exchanged nervous glances. When Hermione got so coldly angry that she seemed utterly calm, it never ended well. "Two days ago, you were laughing just as much as the rest of us when you watched Goyle fall dead asleep out of his chair."
"Yeah," George chimed in. "This isn't the time for second thoughts or regrets, crew! It's too late for that now."
"That's right. This is war and we're not the sort to give in. We're Gryffindors!" Fred cheered, clapping at the half-hearted reply he gained from the assembly. While the twins' enthusiasm could easily sway the lower years, many of the older students still looked unsatisfied.
"We don't have time to turn on our own," Hermione pointed out, putting her fists on her hips as she surveyed the room. "Those snakes have attacked our home base. Sure we'll have to suffer this ... indignity, but anyone who thinks we'll be letting them get away with it is beyond mistaken. Fred, George," the twins stood at rigid attention on their tables, acting the soldiers their speech had made them out to be, "It's time to hit them where it hurts."
The supreme confidence in Hermione's voice, coupled with the mischievous grins that broke out on the twins' faces, reassured the Gryffindors where words couldn't and even Lavender seemed satisfied with the promise of retaliation. Ron clapped Harry on the back, cheered despite the Slytherin colors he sported.
Harry was less than happy. The whole situation had gotten out of hand. Hermione was a general, and Fred and George, twin princes of chaos, her next in commands. With all of Gryffindor rallying behind them, even in borrowed colors, there was just no way this would end simply or quickly. And he could tell, by the girl's voice, that she already had a plan, and by her dark smile, that the Slytherins would most certainly regret pushing this particular stage manager over the limit.
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Harry regretted ever thinking that Thursdays were awful. Even that first Thursday that had brought him to that first horrible rehearsal was nothing compared to today. He heard the saying many times before, that clothes make the man, but it had never occurred to him that the saying also meant the colors of those clothes.
All day long, Slytherins had been commenting on the color of his uniform, tauntingly welcoming the "new Slytherins" to school. Harry could tell by the tightness of Ron's mouth that he was quickly getting fed up. But Hermione had warned him not to react, and as surely as if it had been a spell, Ron was holding back his temper, placing complete faith in the girl's ability to keep her word. And why not? Once Hermione Granger made a promise, she carried it through to the letter.
Hermione skipped lunch. McGonagall ignored her absence in Transfigurations, and she'd faked illness to be excused from both DADA and History of Magic. She was no where to be found during their study period, and though Harry and Ron pressed her for answers all through their potions class, she refused to tell them what she'd been doing all day. She only glanced coolly at the Slytherin side of the room as the members of that house snickered and whispered to one another, pointing every so often in their direction.
Harry tried to ignore Malfoy. He knew what he'd find in the other boy's eyes if he looked. After all, Harry hadn't taken the warning, hadn't proved himself a "smart lion" and had somehow managed to fall into the same trap every other Gryffindor had. "Cheer up, Potter," Malfoy told him later that evening, standing across from Harry as they practiced their lines under the careful scrutiny of Professor Trelawney. "It should only last for a few days. And take it from someone with taste. Green is your color."
Harry frowned. He'd been hoping for a way to reverse the spell, not comments on what color went well with his looks. So it was with particular satisfaction that Harry read Romeo's reply to Tybalt, his eyes narrowing as he finally met the other boy's eyes to finish, reading the actions aloud. "They fight, Tybalt falls."
Malfoy only smiled at him and turned away, listening with a careful ear as Trelawney offered her suggestions with a dramatic waving of arms and scarves. Harry could've gone his whole life without seeing that smile. It was just that sort of smile that could make his tiny crush grow, making it much more difficult to ignore.
A/N: Wow, the response on the last chapter was awesome! At least, I think so. Eighteen reviews and so quickly given! Thanks LyricallyInspired, Lady-Umbreon, DarkWiccanPrincess, HiM'e'TSu, wWwQuIzZiCaLwWw, AlineDaryen, purplerawr, RebeccaMarieCullen, jenamy, brionyjae, Draco and Hermione is like PBJ, xHinata Uzumakix, SunshineAndDaisies, nowle, HeartofaGoddess2009, SexySpeedDemon, XxScarletPhantomxX, and paintupurple for the wonderful reviews. Even better, some of you guys are new! Or else you changed you name, in which case, quit it! You confuse me! Only joking. Once again, thanks for reviewing and thanks also for reading!