Slip of the Tongue by Rachel
The evening had started something like this: Harry and Draco had been polishing chamberpots, serving their detention, under the supervision of Filch, who seemed to be there only so he could grin nastily at them and watch them suffer. Sadist, Harry thought.
Suddenly, Filch had gotten up to leave, apparently catching Mrs. Norris's weird cat-vibes at another part of the castle. Before he left, he'd turned to fix the two boys with a glare. "Don't try anything funny, or it'll be another two detentions. And I'll use my devices next time." He smirked at Draco's involuntary shudder at the way Filch'd said 'devices' and left.
As soon as Filch was out of sight, Draco dropped his chamberpot on the ground with a clatter and threw his rag aside. "What a waste of time! No one even uses these things anymore!" Draco complained. He leaned on the table next to his chair, which was covered in the dusty chamberpots they were supposed to be polishing.
"You never know, Malfoy. I've heard that Dumbledore can only find this room if he needs to use them," Harry said, snickering at Draco, who knocked his chair over in an effort to get away from the table. Even though he wholeheartedly agreed with Malfoy, there was no way he'd voice it out loud.
Draco settled in his chair again, turning it right side up. After a few moments of glaring at Harry, he stated, "You are a complete, utter moron, Potter." Harry didn't look up from his polishing. "Even with an invisibility cloak you still manage to get caught. Pathetic."
"You got caught," Harry replied, head bent down, black hair obscuring his face.
"So? I didn't have an invisibility cloak, like some person I could mention," Draco said.
"No, I meant 'you got caught'. As in, I got you caught," Harry said, his voice clear and sharp, though he wasn't even facing Draco.
"Oh, I see, Potter. Was this some sort of kamikaze mission? Were you sacrificing yourself for the capture of your enemy? How--"
"Are you?" Harry cut in, still polishing without looking at Draco.
"Am I what?" Draco snapped, annoyed at Harry's continual interruptions while he was trying to complain.
"Are you my enemy?" Harry asked, finally looking up and fixing Draco with his intense green gaze, scrutinizing him closely.
Draco was going to laugh. Or he'd been planning on it after hearing Potter's ridiculous question. Then Harry's eyes had locked onto his, and he'd lost the urge. They were so damn...green.
Gulp. "Uh...," Draco started.
Somehow, he'd lost his thread somewhere between the sound of Harry's voice and the green of Harry's eyes.
Dammit! Draco mentally smacked himself. Potter was trying to unsettle him, and he wasn't going to take that! Draco was in control. Glaring at Potter, he gave an uncharacteristic rough laugh and spat, "Of course I'm your enemy! What else would I be?! Your ally? Your accountant? Your boyfriend--" He stopped short.
Oh. Harry was looking at him with wide-eyed surprise. He really hadn't meant to say that.
End
Annoying Author Notes: I wrote this awhile back and left it on my livejournal, where no one, save one person, noticed it. Now I post it here after an edit [read: changed one word], where no one will continue to notice it.