Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters do not belong to me but to J.K. Rowling and co.

Chapter 2

Harry picked up the knife he had been handling for the past hour and ripped, once again, another box full of books. Thankfully, it was one of the last few remaining and, with this thought in mind, he began unpacking books from the box.

Harry had one week and a half left of detention. He had begun serving detention that first Friday after Professor Larson had talked to a more than willing Snape and Filch. He had put Harry to work right away, and although the company was better, the work was not. They had spent the last three days, now the fourth, unpacking books from several boxes Professor Larson had brought in. Harry had an idea of what was in store for him for the following week and a half – organizing the books he was unpacking. He sighed as he continued working, sweat slightly glistening on his brow, robe and tie discarded, top button of his shirt open, and sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

Harry vividly remembered the first detention he had to serve with Professor Larson and still blushed at the thought. He had been hideously clumsy to the point where he was sure Professor Larson was rethinking his choice and was blushing immensely at the proximity with which he had worked with Professor Larson. He had felt like a troll compared to the grace Professor Larson had seemed to work with. He remembered reddening at a point during detention when he noticed Professor Larson's hazel eyes fixed on him and remembered turning away and continuing with even more awkward movements than before. He also remembered mentally smacking himself for stammering and turning into a tomato at Professor Larson's hand on his shoulder, smile, and words of exultation at the progress they had made.

Harry, though, was glad to say that he could now not only form words but also sentences and thoughts and did not blush as much as before. After two more days of a few hours of detention, he had come to know Professor Larson a bit better and felt more comfortable around him than before. They had talked and random facts had been passed around. Harry now knew Professor Larson's age, "24", his first name, "Jake", his favorite color, "blue", his favorite book, "well, more like books…", and also some pretty handy spells that Professor Larson knew and was glad to pass on.

Harry had told Hermione about the vast number of books Professor Larson had, many of which he was sure he had never seen in the library, and had laughed at Hermione's reaction of glee and admiration once he had said this. Ron had merely made a small face but had not said anything. His regard towards Professor Larson had changed that Friday when he had offered Harry to spend detention with him.

Harry smiled once again as he thought about the detentions he wasn't receiving anymore before his thoughts roamed back to Professor Larson and the way his curls framed his face, the hazel eyes that shone brightly when his glasses were removed, the aristocratic, roman-statue looking face that accompanied it, his graceful, athletic form, the long slender fingers on his calloused hand, the brown, almost golden curls, the pale, unflawed skin, the red tinted lips that had come close to him more than once and which Harry found himself unconsciously longing for, the – Harry was thinking when his thoughts were interrupted by a noise to his left. Turning, he saw his new and recent companion and smirked at the sight.

Draco was now bending to pick up the book he had obviously dropped. Harry shook his head as he remembered exactly why Draco was currently accompanying him.

Draco, since the incident on Friday, had not bothered him for a while except for the occasional insults whenever they did happen to meet, but the boy lately seemed to have been avoiding Harry. Harry had various times looked over at Draco suspiciously, but had found nothing in his manner to alarm him. Then he had been proven wrong.

Earlier that same day after transfiguration and halfway to the Gryffindor common room, his bag had suddenly torn open and he had waved Ron and Hermione on. He had not thought much of it since his bag was old to begin with and had simply repaired it quickly before beginning to stuff his things back in there. The halls had been quiet as he had placed his quill in his bag, the last thing that was still out, and had been about to turn when he suddenly saw a yellow flash go by and a string of colorful words following afterwards. Immediately, Harry had turned, his own wand out and narrowly missed another spell that hit a painting behind him. He heard a woman shriek but paid no heed to it as his eyes narrowed in on his target and old sentiments aroused deep within him. He formed words with his mouth and shot out hexes at the target he so hated yet felt like he had expected that stood in front of him. Both of them had battled on, neither of their shots hitting their intended target when a voice had suddenly stopped them between curses. They had both turned and both had displayed two different reactions, one of hate and one of relief, though both held disbelief. They had each retold their story to Professor Larson, who had briefly debated the matter afterwards and who had decided to assign a day of detention as punishment to Draco, deciding to be lenient seeing as no one had gotten hurt. Draco had grudgingly complied and had shown up for detention and currently stood next to Harry, taking out books and muttering under his breath at intervals.

"Merlin, Potter, if I had known you were bloody gay I would have asked for some other detention," Draco said, looking over at Harry.

Harry colored slightly, realizing he had indeed been staring at Draco, but huffed and put on a small smirk. "Please, Malfoy, don't flatter yourself," he said, throwing a scowl back at Draco.

"I wasn't," Draco said rather nastily before changing his tone to a superior one. "You were the one that was staring at me for the last ten minutes."

"Oh please, they weren't ten minutes. I doubt I could stand staring at you for more than five."

"Well, you did, you bloody queer. And stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like that! Just stop looking at me," Draco said, turning around and now entirely facing Harry.

"And I suppose you have the right to look at me?" Harry demanded, dropping the book he had picked up back into the box and turning to face Draco.

"No, I'm just making sure you go back to your work. Don't know why I'm here, either ways. I have things to do!"

"What, like wash your hair? Prim your clothes?" Harry said, scoffing and leaning back against the box, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"Not everyone's a beggar, Potter," Malfoy said, scowling. "And how you're a fucking fairy with care like that is beyond me."

"So I'm guessing you're admitting to being a fag then?"

"What? No! Sorry to crumble your dreams, Potter, but I prefer girls."

"Sorry, but I find that very hard to believe, Malfoy. You're gayer than I am. And sorry to burst your bubble, but you're not exactly my type," Harry said, a small triumphant smirk on his face as he gazed at the blonde-haired person across from him. "I don't like aristocratic blond snobs."

Draco though, only stood staring at him with wide, unbelieving eyes before a malicious smile settled on his face, one that Harry did not like. Nope, not at all.

"So you're a fucking fag then? Should have guessed. Always knew Weasley clung on to you way too much. No wonder Granger's been looking down."

"Shut up, Malfoy! Ron and Hermione are together and both straight, for your information. What, would you have been jealous if I had said I was with Ron?" Harry said, trying to turn the tables around again.

"Fuck no," Draco declared, looking disgusted and making a retching noise. "Plus," he said, the same smirk on his face, "I bet you like the tall, golden curled, hazel eyed guys, don't you?" Draco asked, making sure to get his point across.

Harry blushed and looked down, his composure breaking as his cheeks broke with a flush.

"What's it to you what types I like, Malfoy?" Harry said, deliberately turning away from Draco and going back to unpacking the books.

Draco stayed staring at him, a mixture of confusing emotions mixing up inside him. He watched as Harry bent down once again and saw the muscles in his arm tense up as he picked up several books from the box and set them down. What was it about him that he hated so much? In any other circumstances, he would have been glad to have someone like this in another room with him and would have put the company to… good use. 'Wait, what am I thinking?' thought Draco, shaking his head for good measure, like that would get rid of the thoughts he had just been thinking about his nemesis. 'This is Potter! I cannot, will not, be attracted to Potter in any way,' Draco thought and continued thinking when a cough interrupted his thoughts.

Draco stood still and saw as green eyes glanced at him for the slightest fraction before settling on someone behind him. Grimacing, Draco turned and found Professor Larson staring at them both with a slight smile on his face.

"Glad you're done then, Harry," Professor Larson said as he looked over the boxes. Draco looked too and, sure enough, Harry's boxes were completely empty and rid of all books while he still had to go through two more boxes, not counting the one he had yet to finish. "I'd suggest you'd get to work, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Larson said in a tone that was definitely colder. Draco didn't look back at Professor Larson, he just went over to his boxes and began the work he had left alone a few minutes ago.

"Harry, since you're done packing you can help me in my office now," Professor Larson said. Draco glanced up only to be met by the sight of a flushed Harry walking over to Professor Larson and being ushered into the office.

Draco scowled and went back to his room. It wasn't that he felt anything for Potter, definitely not. It was all hatred and rage… 'And jealousy,' Draco had to confess. Yet, there was a new development in him that he knew wasn't right and that he knew he hadn't felt before. It was like a possessiveness of some sort. He didn't like Harry's blush whenever Professor Larson was around and definitely did not like Professor Larson's good will towards Harry.

"Good will my arse," Draco mumbled as he discarded a box to the side and began unpacking his last one. He saw the looks Professor Larson had given Harry and he knew lust when he saw it, even if it was coming from their angelic DADA professor. He heard laughter coming from the office and he found himself feeling worse than before.

'Why the fuck am I even feeling bad? I should be thinking something along the lines of 'Potter and Professor Larson can have bloody sex if they want and I won't care' or something of the sort. Not this jealous possessiveness. First of all, Potter's a git, a total fucking git, and if that's not reason enough then I don't know what is,' Malfoy thought as he heard voices continue to flow from the office. He finished unpacking the last box as his mind continued to rationalize his 'emotional problem' and sat down on a stack of books he had made, picking up one from the nearest pile and opening it to the first page. His eyes quickly glanced through it and, finding nothing he liked, he quickly put it aside and sought another one. Going through books were a better option than having more unpacking to do 'or worse,' he thought, 'going into his office to help'. He forced his mind away from images he deemed as disturbing and picked up the next book he saw. Bewitching Wonders by Antonio Gail the cover said and as he skimmed through the book his face, and mood, lightened up considerably. His eyes were currently resting on a section titled Illustrious Items and his smirk turned into a benevolent smile as he continued reading.

Shuffling was soon heard and Draco quickly scanned the rest of the page before tearing it out and sticking it into his robe. He closed the book and placed it on a pile before looking up and watching the emerging figures of Harry and Professor Larson as they got closer. His eyes narrowed at the arm that lay around Harry's shoulders but the pages he now held were consolation enough for this, and possibly forever.

"Glad to see you're done, Draco," Professor Larson said in a warmer tone than usual. Draco grew suspicious but didn't say anything and instead stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry, and I'll see you in class, Draco," he said before removing his arm off of Harry's shoulders.

Harry nodded and walked towards the door, muttering a short goodbye before beginning to walk down the stairs. Before long, he felt someone else around him and turning, saw Draco close behind him.

"Following me now, Malfoy?" Harry said, his eyes suspicious. "You never did say you didn't like me."

"Well, I'll say it now then," Draco said, walking over to Harry and with a bright expression on his face that sent Harry into warning mode. "I don't like you, you bloody prick, but I'm pretty sure Professor Larson does. I mean, the way he was hanging all over you. He was all but saying 'Oh, Harry, please, kiss me now before I die!'" Draco said, watching with glee as Harry's face went darker with a hint of a blush.

"Please, Malfoy. You're only jealous that he doesn't want you. I wouldn't blame him though," Harry said with a smile and confident tone that surprised Draco.

Draco shrugged and suddenly stopped. "It was nice walking with you, Potter, but I'm afraid I have some business to attend to," Draco said before walking off towards the dungeons. Harry looked at him suspiciously for a while until he was out of sight and, at the sound of his own rumbling stomach, made his way over to dinner, thinking that the worse was over.

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Draco glanced at Harry the next day as he sat, talking animatedly with his friends during dinner and Draco couldn't help but feel a smirk coming on. He ignored Blaise's questioning glance and went back to eating his food. After all, he had gone to the library, had sent off an owl, and had needed to sneak in a package right before dinner. It had all been tough work and he had worked up an appetite so Draco was now eating with much gusto, most of it, though, due to the plans that were unfolding in his head.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long! My computer is finally working again! Yay! So hopefully faster updates. Don't worry, there'll be some action soon : ).