DISCLAIMER: you know the drill

Um, yes. Well, poor Harry get's Doxy Pox. Very bad. No known cure. STUPID HEALERS! ACK. What will happen when the two 'enemies' are locked in a room together?

SLASH. Not in this chapter, though. Don't like it? Close your eyes. It's everywhere. one last warning: Harry and Hermione are going out. I don't know about you, but I've never been a fan of that ship (go harry/draco!) but its not working. Nothing to dwell on.

*~*~*

It was a cold September morning and Harry had just stormed off after an argument with Hermione. His girlfriend. All of the raised voices had given him a headache, and the drizzle of the rain was almost helping.

Harry had been feeling light headed ever since the end of the summer holidays, and sometimes the world blurred in front of him. There were sleepless nights and once - he hated to remember it - but it felt like his bones were going to snap.

The symptoms had gradually been getting worse.

He could almost forget now. All the colours were blurred anyway, and the rain was pounding against his skull.

And there was someone there.

'Malfoy?' Harry asked unsurely. The Slytherin was just standing there. At the edge of the lake. Doing nothing.

He whipped around so fast. And he drew his wand.

'Oh,' said Malfoy distastefully. 'It's you.'

There was a stab of anger inside Harry. Evidently Malfoy thought Harry was no threat, and he lowered his wand.

'What,' said Harry through the rain, though he was still audible, 'are you doing?'

'Considering drowning myself.'

Malfoy's face was serious.

'Your not ser-' but Harry broke off. No matter which was you spelt it, he never said Sirius's name.

'In all ways, I am,' said Malfoy thoughtfully, surveying Harry with his cool grey eyes. 'Care for a joint suicide?

'That's not something to joke about, Malfoy.' Harry looked at him reproachfully. He wasn't entirely sure Malfoy was joking. And from the look Malfoy shot back, he didn't know either.

They let Harry's comment hang in the air with the only sound of rain sliding down their faces.

'What are you doing?' There was a slight panicked note in Malfoy's voice.

There was that feeling. Braking bones. Twisting. His fever shot up.

Dizziness crept up on him again.

'Potter!'

His knees were giving way.

'Stop it!'

Harry staggered into the arms, and was caught by a very affronted looking Malfoy.

* ~ * ~ *

Harry woke slowly later when a burning liquid was forced down his throat.

He sat up quickly, coughing and spluttering. He knocked the mug out of Malfoy's hands. It smashed on the floor.

'That always happens.'

Harry was still coughing. 'What did you do to me?!'

'Well, first I cut you up, hung your insides out to dry and threw you a birthday party what the hell does it look like I did?!'

'Learn to split up your sentences,' said Harry weakly.

'I'll give you bloody sentences,' he muttered, and repaired the mug with a flick of his wand.

Harry was lying on a bed with deep emerald green hangings, and a room with furniture either green, or made out of dark coloured wood. A large book case stood over the other side of the room, and a desk was covered with parchment.

Malfoy set the repaired mug on the chest of draws, but instead of sitting back next to Harry, he opted for the chair.

It seemed to be Malfoy's bedroom.

'You're all dry.'

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

'Do you have to whine?'

'But you're all dry and I'm wet.'

'Potter,' said Malfoy with annoyance and a tone of disgust. 'Did you expect me undress you while you were sleeping?'

'Well,' said Harry sheepishly. 'You brought me to your bedroom, I just though...'

'Well you though WRONG!' he burst out. 'I guess yours is just a Gryffindor thing!'

'Then why'd you bring me here?!'

'You collapsed Potter,' he snarled venomously. He was on his feet. 'Did you prefer sitting in a tree?'

'I could have been taken to the Hospital Wing!'

'Too many stairs!'

'My arse!'

'You'd infect the other people, that's why! SIT DOWN!'

Harry had been trying to get up while his knees buckled from under him. He threw himself back down with so much force he rolled of the other side.

'Didn't want to be on the bed anyway.'

Malfoy was howling hysterically from the other side.

Harry pulled himself back on the bed and glared at him. 'Are you saying... I'm diseased?'

'Yes. You finally grasp it. Doxy Pox. The Doxy Disease. Call it whatever. I don't care! You're diseased and your stuck with it!'

Malfoy seemed to be on the point of crying, or cackling hysterically at Harry.

'Doxy Pox?'

'YES!'

He was greeted with a blank look.

'Doxy pox, Potter,' said Malfoy impatiently. 'Do you know nothing?'

'I won't, will I turn - into - a - a Doxy?' said Harry, still short of breath from falling over.

'Yes...' said Malfoy evilly.

Harry collapsed on the bed.

'A Doxy? That's what I'm going to live my life as? No, not a farie, or even a hippogriff. But a Doxy!'

'Potter,' said Malfoy with exaggerated patience. 'You are the thickest person I have ever met - you want to be a farie?'

Harry ignored him.

'How would someone like you explain it...?' Malfoy pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. 'Er... if you have chicken pox, do you turn into a chicken?'

'No,' said Harry tentatively. 'You mean I'm not -' Harry leapt of the bed with joy and threw his arms around him. 'I've got to tell Hermione - and Ron - I've got to tell them have a disease! And then I'm hungry!'

'Get off me!' Malfoy snarled in disgust. Harry dropped him and ran to the door. 'GET AWAY FROM IT POTTER!'

Harry froze.

He turned around slowly. 'Excuse me?'

'GET AWAY FROM THE BLOODY DOOR! You idiot! Do you want to cause an EPIDEMIC?!'

'No,' said Harry sullenly. 'I didn't know.'

'You don't know much,' he snapped. Malfoy strode over to a grand chest of draws and began ruffling through it. 'You've got a disease. You can't just go around infecting people.'

'I'm infecting you.'

'I've had it,' he said gruffly.

'Yeah, and you only turned into a ferret,' Harry muttered.

'What was that?' said Malfoy sharply.

'What was what?'

'What did you say?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I said "What was what?".'

'Shut it Potter.'

'Sorry.' Harry wasn't sorry, and he wandered over to Malfoy and hovered as Malfoy pulled a game of Monopoly out. 'An epidemic?'

'Like it or not, Potter,' said Malfoy grumpily. 'We're stuck in this room until you get better, so you better get used to it.'

'You mean - you mean - no leaving this room - or anything?'

Malfoy grimanced.

'You better get out of those wet clothes, Potter,' he said grimly. 'It's going to be a long night.'