The two boys gasped and leapt forward, banging their fists on the door.

"The hell?!" Draco shouted. "Let us out!"

"Fred! George!" Harry pleaded. "This isn't funny!" he looked to Draco, "We can magic ourselves out—"

"Idiot, we gave our wands to Weasel-Dee and Weasel-Dum!" Draco spat out. "We're stuck in here, thanks a lot to you—"

"Me?!" Harry exclaimed. "You're the one who started all this, Malfoy! If it weren't for you strutting about as if you owned the whole damn place, we wouldn't be here!"

"And you—" Draco began to say something but couldn't really quite finish it. "Whatever, Potter. Just so long as we're stuck in here, stay out of my way."

"That's not really possible, considering there's only one room," Harry glared.

They both stood in silence for a while, listening to the chaos happening on the other side of the door.

"Let them out immediately!" came Hermione's voice.

"They'll kill each other in two seconds!" Ron's voice came out slightly squeaky with uneasiness.

Crabbe and Goyle were just grunting, "Oh no, oh no, oh no," repeatedly.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, dear children. They will be fine," Fred reassured them.

"If you follow us, we will explain," said George.

"We'll get you out in no time, Harry!" Hermione's voice was the last to be heard after the pitter-patter of their footsteps fading away.

Afterwards, Draco shot a look of contempt at Harry and sauntered over towards one of the chairs. Harry sighed and followed him, collapsing into one of the chairs as well.

"Don't glare at me like that, Malfoy," he muttered. "I don't want to be here just as much as you do."

"I'd rather eat a dungbomb than spend a minute alone with you, Potter. So I'll glare as much as I like," Draco said sharply. He waited till Harry looked away before he could fully settle his eyes on him. Potter changed a bit, didn't he? Harry had gotten a great deal taller. His arms had a bit more muscle to them and his shoulders were broader. If only he weren't such a git…

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked at Draco and drew his eyebrows together, "What are you looking at?"

Potter without his glasses… "I'm thinking of ways to kill you," Draco answered coldly. It's a shame to hide those green eyes behind those glasses…

"Lovely," Harry replied without much emotion. Malfoy is kind of… lovely. In a cold, unfeeling sort of way. Oh, hey. Crap. That's kind of gross. No, actually, that's really gross. Gross beyond reason. It's… wrong. Wrong? Is it?

While Harry was having a rambling mental war in his brain, Draco was eyeing him closely, "What the hell are you doing, Potter? You look like you're constipated."

"Nobody asked you to stare at me like a lovesick puppy," Harry looked up at him. "And it's disturbing to know that you're having disgusting mental pictures."

"I'm sure you get disgusting mental pictures everyday. Seeing that Weasel and the Mudblood happen to suck face during every spare moment—"

"Call them that again, and I swear I will rip that smirk from your face!"

"Was that a threat?"

"No, it was a promise!"

Draco stared at him defiantly, "Well, take—" he picked up a soft pillow and hurled it towards Harry, "—that!"

The pillow hit Harry square in the face. His expression was that of confusion and bewilderment as his glasses slipped down to his nose.

Draco bit his bottom lip and looked slightly pained. But a small chuckle escaped from his lips. He looked up at Harry once again and had to turn away to laugh.

"What?" Harry glared at him. "What's so funny? Throwing a pillow at my head isn't what I would call funny!"

Draco tried to speak but continued to laugh. He raised one hand up to his mouth to reduce his laughter, but failed.

Harry was about to tell him off but quickly closed his mouth as he watched Draco carefully. He wasn't doing his usual "Slytherin-snigger." It was a genuine, authentic laugh. But his laughter slowly reduced when he felt Harry's eyes upon him.

"Sorry, Potter," he wiped laugh-tears from his eyes. "It's just that your expression… it was priceless. You looked so slow and clueless!"

"Thanks a lot, Malfoy. You never cease to make me feel rotten."

"I didn't mean to, really," Draco still had that silly smile on his face. He suddenly realized what he was doing, so he cleared his throat and glowered. "I mean- yeah. Making you feel rotten is what I do best."

Harry just picked up a pillow and in turn, hurled it towards Draco's face. It hit him straight on the forehead. He looked a bit surprised at first but his gray eyes widened and there appeared an evil glimmer.

"Oh, you are so dead, Potter…" Draco picked up the pillow and leapt up from his chair.

Harry yelped and shot up from the chair, bounding towards the opposite side of the room. He snatched up a pillow from the bed and held it up in defense. But Draco was quick as he smacked Harry on the head with his pillow. Harry's glasses toppled carelessly to the ground. Glasses-less and almost blind, he shoved his pillow in Draco's face and scurried away.

"You—" the Slytherin boy bounded after him and grabbed on to his waist, restraining him from moving further, "—are not going anywhere!"

"You started it!" Harry stomped on Draco's foot and struggled away.

"Come back here, Potter!" Draco rubbed his aching foot and scurried after him. In the process, he picked up another pillow and flung it towards Harry which smacked him on the back of his head. Harry stopped and turned around. He picked up the same pillow and whacked Draco on the side of his face.

This meant war.


After "war," the two boys sat back to back, obviously exhausted.

"I… beat you… Potter," Draco said, breathing heavily. "What a joke… the great… Harry Potter… losing… a pillow fight." He tried to laugh but ended up wheezing instead.

"Give it up, Malfoy…" Harry was out of breath as well. "Pillow fights… are the only thing you'll… beat me at."

They sat, pressing their backs against each other's, for a moment in silence.

"Besides Potions," Draco spoke up suddenly.

"What?" Harry looked over his shoulder.

Draco turned around to fully face him, "You said that pillow fights are the only thing I'll beat you at. And that's not true. I clearly beat you at Potions."

Harry's face fell, "Okay, fine. And it's also because Snape favors you."

Draco frowned, "That's unfair of you to say. It's also because I study. I don't copy other students' papers like how you and Weasley always copy off Granger."

"You study?"

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes, "And you find that so surprising, why?"

"No, it's just that—" Harry cut himself off. "It's not surprising. Considering the grades you get. You earned them the regular way, I guess."

"So what do you think you should do in order to get semi-decent grades?" Draco asked mock-inquisitively.

"Study," Harry replied simply.

"Congratulations! Ten points to Gryffindor! Nothing gets by you, Potter."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said but smiled weakly.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Bust out that essay, Potter. If you want to know what you're doing wrong, we've got to look it over."

"We?" Harry asked. "Who we?"

"Me and that chair," Draco replied sarcastically. "Who do you think? We've obviously got spare time thanks to Mary-Kate and Ashley Weasley and their ingenious plan to lock us in here."

"You'll laugh at my grade," Harry said pathetically.

"Don't be such a whimpering baby, Potter. You want to improve, don't you?"

Harry muttered incoherently under his breath but reluctantly stood up. He walked over towards his bag and pulled out the crumpled up essay. He looked at it and his face burned with embarrassment. He had to be the worst student in Potions. Still continuing to grumble, he handed his paper to Draco.

Draco scanned the paper with his eyes, occasionally shaking his head and clicking his tongue. But he didn't laugh as Harry so nervously waited for him to do.

"Your problem is that you mix up the facts quite a bit," his gray eyes continued to scrutinize the essay. "The waterstone isn't found in the ocean. It's only found in freshwater, such as lakes or streams. And the directions to make a Dragon-bite Antidote are all wrong. You add herbs before you put in the crushed cherrywood, not the other way around. And…"

Harry wanted to listen, he really did. But he was mesmerized by Draco's face. His gentle-looking features and fair skin were candy to the gaze. His lips, which looked extremely soft and inviting, were mouthing and muttering mistakes that were made in the essay (even though Harry wasn't listening). But his eyes were what really drew Harry in. Those clear pools of glistening gray that were deeper than the depths of any ocean.

"Do you get it now?" Draco looked up from the paper.

"Uh, yeah," Harry answered, snapping out of his reverie. "Quite simple, really."

"Then you try it," Draco took out a bit of parchment from his own schoolbag.

"Try what?"

Draco looked at Harry like "duh" and rolled his eyes again, "The directions to the Dragon-bite Antidote. How thick can you get, Potter? It's all I've been trying to tell you about." He handed Harry the parchment, "Now write." Harry took the parchment hesitantly but scribbled on what he thought the antidote was.

Draco watched the boy scrunch up his nose- he obviously already forgot the antidote directions. Draco didn't really care at all at the moment. He just busied himself watching Harry and his calm and serene features. The Slytherin absolutely hated to admit it, but the Gryffindor boy was strangely beautiful. But those eyes… those green eyes. If those eyes had to be described, Draco would have to say… they were like a pair of emerald flames, dancing and flickering with wit and wisdom. And yet… there was sadness to them. An incomprehensible, deep, and mournful sadness. Draco felt something tug on his heart. Why did he have to act like such a prat towards this boy? Harry had done nothing to him.

Except he denied my friendship during our first year, Draco thought bitterly. I could've given him more than what Weasley and Granger could. I could've given him my friendship, my loyalty…

Harry looked up and handed Draco the parchment, "Done."

My everything.

"About time, Potter. Nearly had me dozing off there. Come now. Let me see what you've done," he looked at the paper and gave it a once-over. He raised an eyebrow as his lips twisted into a tiny smirk. "Are you trying to be funny? You silly bloke, this is all wrong. Do it again. And don't you dare stop until I'm fully satisfied." Draco grinned. He had intended for that to be a double entendre but he wasn't sure if Harry caught it.

Harry looked up, his green eyes sparkled impishly.

Seems like he caught it.

"You're nasty, Malfoy."

"Not as nasty as your grades will get if you don't study. Now get to it."

Harry sighed and halfheartedly went back to work.


It was well passed two in the morning and Harry, sleepy-eyed, handed his re-written Potions essay to Draco who examined it for a few minutes. He smiled.

"Hey… not bad, Potter," he nodded, looking quite impressed. "Studying all night does pay off— Potter?"

Harry had already dozed off; his head drooped down on Draco's shoulder.

"Hey… hey… wake up, you silly idiot," Draco nudged him a bit. "My shoulder isn't a cursed pillow; go crawl to your bed!" But Harry did not move. He was evidently out for the night. Draco sighed and gave up. He shifted his eyes towards Harry and watched him for a while. He paused, leaned forward, and gently kissed the scar on the sleeping boy's forehead.

"Good night, Harry," Draco rested his chin on top of Harry's head and shut his eyes, slipping into a deep sleep.

Harry opened his eyes moments later. He felt Draco's chin resting on his head and he was apparently asleep. Oh crap.

"Malfoy. Malfoy!" he hissed. "Wake up!" Harry shifted around a bit, hoping to wake the sleeping boy, but his attempts were all in vain. He was already drowsy enough as it is and he felt rather comfortable in this position. Without further ado, he nestled in comfortably against Draco and yawned. Maybe sleeping with the enemy wasn't so bad after all.

"Good night, Draco."