A brief summary:

Harriet Jillian Potter is a playful, mischievous, restless Gryffindor currently pursuing her Fifth Year at Hogwarts, while Draco Lucius Malfoy is an ambitious, often pretentious, overthinking Slytherin who is in the same year as the other protagonist of this story. Though both of them have been at loggerheads for most of the four years they've known each other, for some inexplicable reason, they've started sending each other notes.

And that is how our story starts.

Initially, it's a very clinical relationship – with them keeping score and such, but as Draco helps Harriet out after her bleeding detentions, and as Harriet sees a much more humane side of her ex-rival, the lines blur, and the needle doesn't point true north anymore. In other words, our two dearest characters are conflicted, and because we take pleasure in watching them have confounding feelings towards one another, we observe with avid interest.

Draco pretends that it's all because he wants to build up credit with the Light side, and Harriet claims it's to get extra information for the upcoming war, but we genuinely know better and the truth is that they're very adorable in their denial and that they are (or can be) pretty decent friends. And for the moment, because we're very magnanimous people, we'll allow them to live under whatever pretext they claim, which is that they're allies, that they're part of an official magical "alliance".

There are a few bitches involved in the story as well. One wears pink and loves giving detentions to Harriet; the other wears red and gold, has the name of a shade of purple, and is nasty to Harriet (who is also her roommate); the third wears green and silver and fancies herself to be Draco's girlfriend. (Poor thing.)

And lastly, we won't really have a story without our dearest nosy friends, would we? There's a bushy haired witch, a red-headed chess whiz, and an Italian heartthrob, who all actively play important roles in the lives of our two protagonists. In their opinion, the story really wouldn't progress without the three of them guiding our two adorable (idiotic) note-senders.

NOTEWORTHY BOREDOM

CHAPTER 6

A WRITTEN AGREEMENT

Harry got up extra early the next morning, and after getting dressed, hurried to the kitchens to grab some toast and pumpkin juice. She then went to the History of Magic classroom, and sat at the same last bench she had occupied last week.

She took out her wand and tried out the new repelling spell she had learnt late last night. Once she was sure that she could cast the incantation, she cast the spell on the empty seat next to her. She then took out her Transfiguration essay, and continued working on it.

Soon, students started filling in, but they saw the empty seat beside Harry and just went away. Harry still didn't know if the spell was actually working, because the true test would be Ron and Hermione. When Ron entered the room with Hermione scolding him for being late, he simply greeted Harry and went to sit with Hermione at the second bench. This made Hermione turn around and throw a suspicious glance at Harry, but Harry just ignored her.

Harry felt a small spark of pleasure shoot through her, as she realised that she had indeed cast a NEWT level charm successfully. And almost all the students had assembled, except for Malfoy, and much to her consternation, Parkinson.

Finally, as the bell rang and Professor Binns floated through, Malfoy came rushing in, with Parkinson hot behind his heels. Harry quickly cast a Finite Incantaeum. He saw that there were three spots left in the class – one next to Zabini right in the front, one next to Neville, and one next to her. He immediately sat down next to her, causing Parkinson to glare venomously at her.

'I'll get you next time, bitch,' Harry thought to herself, thrilled to see that Parkinson's nose was red and puffy, rather like a red capsicum.

If Neville was surprised by Draco sitting next to her, he didn't say anything. He was busy reading a Herbology book under the desk, and Binns hadn't even started class yet! Harry was pleased to see the usually timid boy do something mildly reckless.

"I'm guessing that you're the one who made me late?" asked Draco, his voice a whisper.

Harry smirked, without turning around to look at him. That seemed to frustrate him even more.

"House elves?"

Harry turned to look at him, before bestowing him with a smile. "Yup," she said, popping the 'p'.

"Ingenious, Potthead, but why?"

Harry replied only after roll call was over, but she replied by writing on the piece of parchment he had so graciously left behind with her last Monday.

'To teach you a lesson, you insufferable git.'

'What did I do, Scarface?'

'What do you know about written agreements?'

'They're magically binding in the Wizarding World?'

'Remember the last 'French' class where you asked me a stupid question?'

At this, Draco stopped and looked at her with his eyes slightly wide.

"I didn't mean it that way, I swear," he said forcefully, though it wasn't very loud. However, it was loud enough for Parvati and Lavender, sitting in front of them, to turn around and glance at them suspiciously.

So Harry took up the common quill and started writing furiously.

'Keep your voice down, you cad méprisable! Do you WANT people to gossip about us sitting together?'

'You used two French words. I'm a great teacher.'

'My friend who is a French national called you that. And going by the meaning of cad in English, I'm safe in calling you that.'

'It means "despicable cad". Is your friend who called me that single?'

'Leaving Little Puggy for my beautiful friend? Smart move. Unfortunately for you, she's older to you.'

'The Blacks have often married witches older than them. Wait, your friend is a witch, right?'

'As opposed to a Muggle? Yes, she is. But I don't see why that is of any concern to you.'

'Muggles are barbaric, savage creatures that are uncivilised and stupid. Anyone bothering to associate with them must be avoided.'

Harry felt herself scowl as she read what he had written. True, the Dursleys were all that he had mentioned, but not all Muggles were that way. Her mother's parents had been Muggle, after all.

'Please take your biased, stupid Pureblood views somewhere else. I'm not interested in talking to you anymore.'

With that, she snatched her quill away, and moved all her things to sit next to Neville. Thankfully, the free seat next to Neville had been to her immediate left, and her transfer went unnoticed by everyone.

She took a moment to glare at Draco, as he looked at her in disbelief. She then put her head on the desk, just the way Neville had, and went to sleep.

She should have known that being sort-of-friends with Draco would lead to this.

OoOoO

That night, when Harriet made her way back from Umbitch's bleeding detention, she used her Invisibility Cloak. She even used a Silencing charm on her shoes, all just to avoid Malfoy.

When she passed by him on their corridor, leaning against the wall with a frown on his face, she felt the slightest bit of guilt. He really had no reason to meet her after detention, now that she knew the Loksomnum spell.

He looked up suddenly, as if he sensed her there, and Harriet realised that she'd probably been breathing too loudly or something. What was it that he had told her the other day in the library? That the first time he came across her in the corridor, she'd sounded like a wounded horse.

Right.

She tried to still her breath and leave the corridor as fast as possible.

When she was in the safety of her common room, she allowed Hermione to give her some more Murtlap essence, not wanting an ugly scar on her hand. Wasn't the scar on her forehead enough?

There had been a time when she'd thought that her lightning shaped scar was pretty cool, but after being teased relentlessly by Malfoy in Third Year that no one in their right minds would want to kiss a person with such a hideous scar, she'd become highly conscious of it.

She'd taken to wearing concealer and Muggle make-up for a while after that, courtesy Lavender and Parvati, but ultimately, she'd stopped when she realised that she could not give Malfoy the satisfaction of getting under her skin.

And yet, here they were.

And though Malfoy had made some highly biased statements against Muggles, she couldn't help but feel guilty about leaving him standing there. It almost felt like she was standing him up, though their nightly meetings were definitely not scheduled or anything.

Merlin, why was everything so confusing?

OoOoO

Draco was not in the most pleasant of moods. He felt stupid. He had been tactless while talking to the Girl-Who-Lived, who was the champion of all creatures, magical and non-magical. Why had he openly displayed his disdain for those nasty Muggles?

After her standing him up on Monday, he had considered not sending her flowers as he had originally planned. But then she was still angry with him, even after three days. And she'd even ignored him in Care of Magical Creatures yesterday, choosing to partner up with Longbottom, of all people.

Well, Father always gave Mother flowers when she was angry with him. Would it work for him as well? Or did he have to apologise? But he didn't want to apologise, especially when he didn't feel sorry about his words in the least.

And not to forget, she had shot him a venomous glare when Professor Grubbly-Plank had announced that she expected them to work as partners with the same people they had in the first class, seeing as the average performance of the class had dropped since then.

And now in Potions, Pansy was getting on his nerves, with her continuous whining about her nose, which was still slightly swollen. He hated that Uncle Severus had made the two of them partner together. He knew that Draco hated the girl.

On the bright side, Severus had indeed warned the Slytherins of a surprise test, as he always did. And the highlight of the class was when Harriet submitted a finished paper. Severus scowled at the paper, but couldn't accuse her of cheating, seeing as she was sitting with that clumsy Longbottom. Merlin, that boy was such a buffoon.

As Draco tried to chop the vervain roots, Parkinson continued whining. The stupid girl was giving him a headache. Draco was sorely tempted to dump the boiling contents of their cauldron onto her head. Why was she convinced that the two of them were in a fucking relationship? He would rather date that Mudblood know-it-all than 'Pugfaced' Parkinson.

Draco finished the potion just as the bell rang. Parkinson, of course, had not helped in the slightest. He siphoned the shimmering liquid into a flask and walked up slowly to Severus' desk to place it. As he kept it down slowly, he caught a whiff of vanilla from behind him. He turned around to see Harriet Potter, clutching a bright blue potion.

She bit her lower lip, and the image did funny things to a certain lower part of his anatomy. She had painted her lips a cherry red. It hadn't been that colour during breakfast this morning. But even without the lip paint (Gloss was it called?), her lips looked beautiful.

And oddly, Draco didn't feel like pushing that thought away, the way he usually did. He was a full blooded male. It was his Merlin damned right to find things about the opposite gender attractive.

"Er... Thanks."

Draco moved forward, almost bumping her flask out of her hand. Her hair was loose, and it carefully framed her face on one side. Potthead looked... Beautiful?

"You're welcome, love."

The blush on her face made him feel like laughing. He was obviously getting under her skin. And it made him feel happy. And then she took a step back and glared at him.

"I'm still angry with you."

Before Draco could say anything, a sneering voice from behind him called out, "Ms. Potter, if you are done glaring at Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you place your abysmal potion on the desk and stop wasting my free hour."

Harriet nudged him in the shoulder on purpose as she walked towards the desk, and Draco rolled his eyes. As he walked out of the dungeon, he realised that he was screwed.

He was attracted to the Girl-Who-Lived. He was screwed. His plan to be an ally was now screwed.

He could only think of one word to sum up his annoyance.

"Fuck."

OoOoO

'Draco,

Meet me in our History of Magic classroom tomorrow? I have something to give you. So come a little early, say around 8:10?

Regards,

An ally who wants to be a friend'

Draco folded the sheet and placed it inside his history book. It was 8:15 AM and Harriet still hadn't turned up. He'd received that note last night, and upon reading it had felt this indescribable feeling of relief.

"Hi! You're here!" came a chirpy voice from the entranceway, and Draco turned around to see her smiling at him, a wrapped package in her hands.

"What's got you smiling so much?" he asked her, feeling grumpy. He'd had to skip breakfast and eat an apple instead, and she had the audacity to smile so brightly and turn up late?

She slipped into the seat next to him and started opening the package which was tied up with string. He couldn't help but notice how her nails were a deep shade of blue today. How would it feel to have those fingers entwined with his own?

He shook off that thought and watched her instead.

The second she had unwrapped the brown paper completely, she snatched an odd looking thing from her bag, and hunched over the book. It looked like she was writing something onto the first page of the book, at least, that was what her hand movement suggested.

His patience ran out five minutes later, and he leaned over to see what she was doing, and barely managed to hold in a gasp of surprise!

Though it looked like a slender, short wand, it seemed to be spewing ink onto the page!

She turned around to regard him, and quirked an eyebrow up as she asked, "What?"

"That thing you're holding. What is that?"

"What? Oh. Oh! This is a ballpoint pen, Draco. Don't tell me you've never heard of a biro!"

When he shook his head, she stared at him with her mouth open, before shaking her head and smiling a little too beatifically at him. Why was she so fucking beautiful?

"I didn't realise... This is a pen. Muggles use pens to write, just as we use quills. They don't need to carry around bottles of ink, though, and also, the ink of a biro doesn't run when we spill water on it."

"C-Can I hold it?" he asked, hating the way his voice broke.

"Sure! You know what, you can keep it. I have plenty more in my dorm."

She handed him the pen and he fingered it gently. It said 'Faber-Castell' on the side, and had a tiny image of two fighting knights next to the name. It also said '0.5' and 'ball pen'. Draco stared at it, and Harriet chuckled.

They heard bickering voices coming from outside the room, and she grimaced.

"Damn, that's Mione and Ron. Stay here, okay? I'm sitting next to you today."

She then whipped out her wand, cast a spell nonverbally at the bench and hurried out, rummaging for something in her bag.

Draco kept the pen aside and looked at the book instead.

The title proclaimed its name to be 'The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr.' The cover had a picture of a dark-skinned man with his arms crossed across his chest. It was obvious that the man was a Muggle.

Curious, he opened the book to read what Harriet had written inside.

'Draco,

It wasn't right of me to get angry the other day. I can't be angry at you for having years of prejudice ingrained in you. I can't get mad at you until and unless you have had a chance to see both sides of the issue.

I've decided to help you see both sides.

I've decided to educate you.

You teach me French, and I'll teach you history, science, literature – anything and everything that'll help you form a truer judgement.

Yours,

Jillian P'

He read over what she'd written once again, and felt oddly touched. He had no idea why she'd signed it as Jillian, though. He was about to start perusing the book, when the bell rang and people started shuffling in.

He stuffed the book into his bag. He didn't want to answer anyone's questions about why he had an obviously Muggle book on his table. If Harriet wanted him to read it, he'd have to come up with a powerful perpetual glamour charm to make it look like some uninteresting Herbology text or something.

Oddly, though all his Slytherin yearmates glanced at him, and Blaise and Theo even greeted him, no one sat next to him on the last bench. Even Pansy. The blonde girl simply smiled at him flirtatiously, before proceeding to sit next to Greengrass.

He looked up to see Weasley sitting next to Granger in the second bench. Harriet was nowhere to be found.

"Boo."

"Hello to you too," he said, trying not to smile.

"Impressed by my spell?" she whispered, grinning broadly.

He decided to answer her truthfully. "Very much. What did you do?"

"I'm not going to tell you, Drakie-poo. That's for me to know and for you to find out."

Draco bit back a groan at how her whispered words seemed to make his blood rush south. Merlin, he hated her.

OoOoO

Harriet scowled at the two girls sitting in front of her and Draco.

If Parvati and Lavender heard her conversing with Draco, they'd try to overhear the whole conversation, being the gossipers they were. And she did not want to be the topic of hot gossip – well, at least more than the usual.

Binns had just finished taking attendance, and for some reason, the two girls were not going to sleep. They seemed to be having quite a lively discussion on whose arse was cuter, Dean's or Zabini's.

Draco seemed to be listening to the discussion very carefully, though.

Harriet scowled at him, and he just grinned at her. And that made his eyes light up. Why were they so damn silvery?

She would stare into them all day if he'd let her.

He took out their parchment and wrote something onto it.

'Why scowling like a banshee, Jillian?'

'Why so keen on listening to those two? Jealous they're not taking about your arse?'

'I don't need those two to tell me how cute my arse is, only you.'

She blushed when she read what he'd written, because unknown to him, she had found his arse cute, especially in Potions yesterday. She'd wished she could see him in jeans.

'MORON.'

He merely chuckled at her severely underlined word, before taking up his quill and writing something.

'Why sign the book as Jillian?'

'That's my middle name,' she wrote, wondering if she was telling him anything personal and important. She continued her message, 'What's yours?'

'Lucius. Draco Lucius Malfoy.'

'Hey! That's your dad's name! A friend of my parents told me that if I'd been born a boy, they'd have named me after my father, at least my middle name.'

'It's a Pureblood custom, Jill.'

She looked up at that, feeling confused but oddly pleased. Here was a nickname that wasn't masculine in the least! As much as she loved being called Harry, she had a feeling that sometimes people (Ron in particular) saw her as a guy.

'You know what? I think I like the name a lot.'

'I'll call you Jill and you'll call me Foi, then?'

'I think I'll stick to Drakie-poo, Drakie-poo,' she wrote, smirking.

When he read that, he stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed.

But of course, Parvati and Lavender turned around at that.

"Harry! You're sitting with Malfoy again?" asked Lavender.

"And why were you laughing?" Parvati asked, narrowing her eyes.

Praying that Draco won't open his mouth, Harriet said, "I cast a spell on him which froze his tongue. He can't speak for the rest of the day. I'm just celebrating," she replied, grinning.

"But why are you sitting next to him?" questioned Lavender.

She so desperately wanted to slap that cow. Who was she to ask her such things?

"I'm tutoring her in Potions under Professor Snape's instructions. If anyone finds out about this, I will personally ensure that your beds become the place of your worst nightmares."

Parvati just gulped, while Lavender turned pale.

"Malfoy, you're talking?" asked Harry, trying to keep up the act. It wouldn't help if the bints realised she'd been bluffing.

"Obviously, Potter, your spell work is poor."

She scowled at him, but when the other two turned away, she grinned at him.

Pulling the parchment towards her, she wrote, 'Meet me in the library tomorrow? I want to tell you about the book.'

'Sorry, I have Quidditch practice all evening. And I think you have yours all morning.'

'Damn, I totally forgot. Thanks for reminding me. So then, where we can speak without anyone overhearing us?'

'Want to meet tonight? At midnight, in the trophy room?'

Harriet bit back a smile at that.

'And have you go tattling to Filch? No, thank you, Malfoy.'

Draco threw her a grin at that, and something stirred deep inside her. Watching her former-rival smile and grin seemed to be melt her insides. And the needle of her imaginary balance seemed to madly swing towards the golden side whenever he smiled at her.

'I promise you, I won't. I can come up with more creative ways to expel you and Weasley now.'

'It's nice to know you're not actively working towards destroying me.'

'Personally, I don't think your hand can take another detention with Umbridge.'

'Fuck you.'

' Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?'

'I think that's the only sentence you know in French, Drakie-poo.'

'Fuck you, then.'

'S'il te plait, NON! Tu es un cad méprisable.'

'Look at your French improving at my mentioning a night with me. I really am a fantastic teacher.'

'I'm going to look up "idiot" in the English-French dictionary, next.'

'You do that. In the mean time, let me improve your vocabulary.'

'Why does this sound ominous?'

'Umbridge est un cochon.'

'Does cochon mean toad?'

When he read that, Draco smiled broadly.

'Think of something large and pink.'

'Umm... A pig?'

Just then, the bell rang, and Draco stood up swiftly, whispering in her ear as he did so, "Meet me tonight at the Astronomy Tower, and I'll tell you."

Harriet tried to suppress the pleasant shiver that ran down her spine, and instead went to wake Neville up, who was sleeping with his mouth slightly open.

Why on earth was she even deigning to talk to Draco Malfoy, let alone meet with him at midnight?

Translation:

What Draco said in French, as Fleur translated, is, "Would you like to sleep with me tonight?"

Note:

I honestly forgot about this story. I wrote these chapters some three years back, and wow, all I can say is that I've grown as a writer since. If you're still around reading this, thank you so much. :)

I'll post the omake with the next chapter. Tbh, it's actually pretty silly. It's just as silly as this story.

I haven't replied to all the reviews yet; I soon will.

Review replies:

justanotherlady: You are my 100th reviewer! :)

Guest: I loved the library scene as well. ;)

Zara: I'm not commenting on whom Draco may or may not be sleeping with in the future. ;)

Not logged in: I like to ship Scorbus only when they aren't related, haha.

Guest: I don't like to bash any characters, I instead try to write them as well rounded as possible. (I'm lying. I completely enjoy bashing Umbridge.) But I hope that answers your questions. :)

Guest: Nina Dobrev is unbelievably pretty. *fangirls* As for whether Draco will sleep with other girls, whether he'll sleep with Harriet at all, and whether he plans to get married at twenty one, you'll have to wait and see! :) But I assure you, HEAs all around!

And the five other guests, thank you! :D