Dedicated to my first 3 reviewers. Thanks for reading and I'm glad you like it! This is a little less serious chapter but there might be slash in the next chapter... so just hold out a little longer...

The next day Harry woke up groggily to the sound of his roommates getting ready. Ron yelled at him, "Oi, Harry, wake up!"

"I'm up," he groused. He was really tired… And then he remembered two things. A) he'd enjoyed himself immensely last night with draco, and B) he'd told Draco he dreamed about him. His cheeks became rather hot when he thought about it. So he tried his best to ignore it and go to the Great Hall for some breakfast.

However, this was a bad idea since who else was sitting at the Slytherin table but a Malfoy with slicked back hair. Harry didn't realize he was staring until Hermione asked him what he was looking at.

"Nothing. I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well," he lied.

Hermione's features softened in what Harry recognized as pity. His stomach turned. "Is your scar bothering you?"

"No." He pushed away his plate. "I'm gonna go get my books for potions." He stood up and walked out of the hall. Ron glared at Hermione, asking what she'd said.

Harry was early to potions, which was a first. He didn't know why he'd gotten so angry at Hermione. She was just concerned about him. But it was so hard sometimes. When Hermione and Ron walked in a few minutes later, he smiled at them, and they returned it. Ron sat next to him and Hermione took his other side.

Draco sauntered in the room, one of the last people to show. Snape didn't say anything, of course. Green eyes connected with gray and Harry swore he felt a tingle in his fingertips, all over his body… But Draco just sneered at him and looked away, taking the seat farthest from him. It almost hurt not to have Draco recognize what had happened last night. Almost, but it couldn't hurt much, because what did he expect anyway? That one night would make up for years of insults and hate?

Harry determined to stop thinking about it and concentrate on potions. Still, he would've blown his cauldron up a few times if Hermione hadn't been there. The rest of the day passed by in a blur. There was Care of Magical Creatures, Lunch, Divination, free time, and then Dinner.

The Gryffinders were lying around the common room, doing homework or just staring into the fire. People were just beginning to head upstairs to bed. Harry was pondering whether or not he should go visit Draco at midnight. He wanted to go… but what if he didn't even show up, or if he was angry? Finally, he decided to go, and just hope for the best.

And he wasn't disappointed. Draco showed up on time as usual. "I could set my watch by you," Harry commented. Draco jumped, although he didn't look terribly surprised.

"God, Potter. Miss me that much you just had to see me again?" Draco smirked.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Sure. Whatever you need to believe," Draco said in a mock condescending manner. "So you want to smoke?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yeah, Potter. If there's one thing I'm not, it's rude." Harry shot a look at him. "At least not when people don't deserve it. So is that a no?"

"No." Draco took out two joints and handed one to Harry. "So I won't have to touch your Gryffinder germs," he explained. He lighted his, then handed the lighter to Harry.

Harry flicked the wheel but nothing happened. He kept trying, but he just couldn't seem to do it. Draco rolled his eyes. "You have to press it down and roll it." He demonstrated. Harry then tried again, and lit the joint this time. He sucked in the smoke and managed not to cough on the exhale. He slumped against the couch as he felt his whole body relax with the smoke.
They sat in a comfortable silence, only broken by the sound of paper cracking and breathing.

"So why are you here?"

"Do I have to have a reason?" Harry asked.

"Well, normal people do things for reasons."

"Whoever said I was normal?"

"Guess you're right. But just answer the question instead of evading it, Potter. I don't give up easily."

"Maybe I want to be your friend."

Draco snorted, "So now you want to be my friend?" he said, bemused.

"Look, I was 11. We've both changed since then."

"Speak for yourself."

"Why do you have to be so bitter?"

"Why do you have so annoying?"

They glared then burst out laughing. Draco composed himself first. "You know," he said, taking a hit off the joint, "you're alright."

"Does this mean we're friends?" Harry asked hopefully.

"What is it with you and your bloody obsession with that subject, Potter?"

"Call me Harry. It's the thing to do when one is a friend." Harry grinned at him.

"Why did I invite you to stay again?"

"You were lonely and you think I'm alright," Harry answered.

"It was rhetorical, Harry." The name slid off his tongue easily despite being unfamiliar.