And about a million years later we have the next chapter! It's not fab, but I don't think it's too shabby- let me know what you think, since that's what counts!

Chapter 3 – Can it be, is it UST? …or just hate?

"I don't believe it! We have to share a room!" Malfoy bit out incredulously from the dormitory.

Draco's heart was pounding. His face flushed. Sharing a room with Potter, for some unknown reason, made him feel even more uneasy than having to help, and be helped by, the dark haired boy.

"Well… we are the only 6th year boys in our House…" Harry said appearing in the doorway and leaning nonchalantly against the frame, arms folded.

Draco glared "Very perspicacious of you, Potter." he sneered.

"Hey, you started the stating the obvious, Mr. 'We're sharing a room' in case you didn't notice!" Harry sounded vaguely amused, as opposed to the venom his words with Draco usually held. In truth this was only because Draco was being so openly agitated, instead of, as Harry had expected him to be, relishing the prospect of making Harry's life hell.

Draco rolled his eyes "Shut up Potter: nobody cares! We have a whole House to ourselves, and yet I have to share a room with you; it's injustice! I don't believe this!" Draco folded his arms sulkily and walked over to the large window on the far side of the room.

"I have no idea how your friends put up with all your moaning. Honestly Malfoy, you're such a… wait I've got it… you've never had any friends!" Harry said smirking at Malfoy's back and collapsing down onto one of the wide, purple-covered four-posters.

"You're funny, Potter." Draco said in a deadpan drawl, glaring over his shoulder at the reclining boy. "What makes you think you can have that bed?"

"Why do you always pick a fight Malfoy? We're stuck with one another: deal with it." Harry said closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head, as though he was relaxed, although really he was worried Malfoy might take advantage of his open vulnerability and physically attack him, but he had to appear to be strong and unconcerned, or Malfoy would know and definitely bother him.

"Easy for you to say, you're usually stuck with a load of stupid, arrogant Gryffindor plebs! Having me here can only possibly be an improvement- a pleasure even- compared to that. But me? I normally have sophisticated, intelligent conversationalists to associate with… people with more brains and bigger vocabularies! I'm not used to this!"

Harry raised an eyebrow "Crabbe and Goyle have vocabularies? And anyway, who're you calling arrogant?"

"Come on, Potter, next to you I'm positively self-deprecating…. And besides, arrogance is misplaced confidence- I have every reason to be confident." Malfoy grinned sardonically, before adding "You, on the other hand…" he trailed off and sneered down at the still reclining boy.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you, Malfoy? If you don't have anything nice to say… then shut the fuck up!"

"I was under the impression you had absolutely no experience it that department, Potter. It's obvious from your complete lack of manners that yours didn't have time to teach you anything… but with that mudblood of a mother I doubt you'd be any better off if they hadn't died-"

Before Draco could finish, he was slammed face first against the window, his right arm twisted painfully behind his back. His head smashed hard against the window, which didn't break, probably due to the amount of protective spells cast on their rooms in anticipation of their violence towards one another. Draco struggled against him, but in his fury Harry could easily overpower the slender boy, who wasn't used to having to resort to physical violence to get his way.

"Don't you dare ever speak about my parents that way again!" Harry spat, gripping Draco's hair in his left fist and yanking his head back, whist with his other hand he twisted Draco's arm further, pressing him against the window more forcefully.

Draco struggled again, to no avail, then breathed deeply in resignation.

"Let me go, Potter." He bit out: it was a command.

Harry half relaxed his grip, but didn't fully release him.

"Did you hear what I said Malfoy?"

Restraining himself from loosing it completely and attacking Harry physically again, he ground his teeth together firmly and growled out a low response.

"Then don't insult my upbringing either, hero boy: you're not the only one who cares about his family, you know."

"What? I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. Didn't my parents ever teach me? Yes, Potter, you brought it up, not me." Draco sneered "And yes, Potter, they taught me extensively: I won't ever forget what they taught me, and you won't ever know or understand it, so you can shut-the-fuck up about etiquette and upbringing because the Malfoy's wrote the book on propriety and manners… and every other fucking thing you never had to endure, hero boy- so just shut the fuck up. And get off me!"

Draco twisted and swung his shoulders against Harry's grasp, which had relaxed completely. Harry's features softened slightly and he released his grip on Draco altogether.

"Fucking hell Malfoy- can't you take a joke…It was just a phrase… it wasn't meant as an insult to your family." Harry half muttered.

"Think before you speak, Potter." Draco spat "How the hell would you have taken it?"

Harry turned his back on the other boy and strode away from the window and the confrontation, too prideful to actually apologise to his ache-rival, or admit he'd even been wrong. But Draco knew that Harry knew he was wrong, and somehow, that was almost as good as an apology at this stage: it was a victory at the least.

"Didn't realise you were so sensitive, Malfoy." Harry muttered in lieu of an apology "I'll be more careful in future; I won't even mention it when outfits make you look fat or which colours just make you look ill."

"I never look fat, Potter! And I don't wear colours that make me look ill… and besides, you're one to talk: you have the colour coordination of a gay pride flag at jubilee-"

"Didn't realise this was a gayness competition-" Harry muttered under his breath whilst Draco continued his rage-filled rant.

"-And anyway, you're the one who got offended first, so you're just as sensitive as me, if not more so- and you never wear green which is your best colour, even if you're not fat!"

Harry couldn't help laughing at Draco's indignant rage. "God, Malfoy, you really are a gay boy." Harry grinned at the other boy's expression of pure fury.

"I AM NOT GAY!" Malfoy screeched, before calming and stating matter-of-factly "Malfoy's are never gay. I am not gay."

Harry just laughed "Whatever, Malfoy, whatever."

Silence reigned peacefully for a scant few moments before it was, again, broken.

"Well I suppose that once the spell takes effect, and you become even more weak and pathetic than you already are, you'll need me by your bedside to tuck you in…" it had been meant as a dig, but the awful reality was sinking in.

Both boys considered the fact that, in a short while, that jest could very well become a reality… along with goodness knows what else they'd have to do for each other…

"Wait! You don't think we'll have to…" audible gulp "dress each other… and stuff…" blush "and what about going to the loo…"

"Never knew you were such a prude, Draco" Harry muttered half-heartedly, just to get at the other boy, because, in truth, the idea of dressing or being dressed by Draco Malfoy made him feel slightly queasy and very uncomfortable.

"Just 'cause you want to touch my body doesn't mean I have to enjoy it… or feel uncomfortable about it… or not throw up about it…" Draco actually did look slightly ill, as he stood by the window staring in disgust at Harry, who was removing his glasses and lying back with closed eyes against the plush duvet.

"Get used to the idea, Malfoy, 'cause there's nothing we can do about it. This isn't some hideous nightmare that you can wake up from and thank god you didn't really have to…" Harry couldn't bring himself to say what he thought they'd have to do for each other: he let the unfinished sentence hang uncomfortably between them.

Then tried again: "This is reality and we're going to have to…y'know…help each other… and you're gonna have to get used to it…" he finished lamely, horrified that he was the one trying to talk Malfoy around when he himself just wanted to run a mile.

Harry groaned "Screw it, I'm not gonna pretend this is ok: I hate the idea as much as you do. I have no idea why I'm trying to tell you it'll be ok. It won't. We're screwed." Harry bent his right arm over his face, covering his eyes, whist still lying on his back on the bed.

They both stayed still, until Draco slumped onto the unoccupied bed nearest the window. He sat wide-eyed and thought. He knew going over it all in his mind, dreading it, wasn't helping. So he spoke:

"What should our House be called?"

"What?" Harry said without moving his arm from over his face.

"What should we name our House? We've got to do it otherwise it won't show up on your map, which, by the way, I demand to see in the very near future." Draco's tone was clipped, but Harry didn't react.

"We could call it…umm…" Harry began, his voice had a slight tremble to it, Draco noticed. His eyes narrowed: what could Potter possibly be thinking… or hiding?

"'Umm'? I don't agree to that name." Draco said scathingly, expecting Harry to sit up, glare at him and give some smartarse comment. When he still didn't move Draco knew his suspicions were not unfounded. He crawled silently across his bed hoping against hope that he was right.

"You're the one with the huge vocabulary: you think of something." Harry said sounding almost disinterested: Draco thought he detected a note of panic.

Draco grinned with glee, looking at the clock that hung on the wall opposite them. He slipped silently from his bed, across the small gap between his and Harry's beds and stood over Harry's unmoving form, smirking. Draco leant over Harry. The boy's arm still covered his eyes, his glasses thrown haphazardly on the dresser. Harry moved his head slightly to the left as if trying to check Draco was still there. Draco leaned even closer: he was sure now.

"How about 'you can't move your arms, can you Potter?'" Draco smirked at the boy's intake of breath at hearing Malfoy so close, saying exactly what he didn't want to hear him say.

"No. I don't like that name either." Harry said wryly, in spite of his current, and most compromising, position.

"What about… hmm… let me see… 'I could do anything to you now and you couldn't stop me'" Draco smirked down at the vulnerable boy gleefully.

This was exactly what Harry had been afraid of.

"You're weak." Draco grinned, as Harry tried to roll away; he caught him by the shoulder and pinned his limp arms either side of his head, leaning over him threateningly he sneered nastily; "You're pathetic."

"If either one of us is pathetic, Malfoy," Harry spat bravely- though, it was all bravado, as he was unable to do anything more than hurl insults in his defense "then it'd be the one of us who has to wait for someone to be helpless before he can hurt them… there's a word for that Malfoy-"

"Slytherin?" Draco cut in smirking.

Draco stared down. He could get away with anything, and yet he couldn't clearly decide exactly what it was he wanted to do to the boy. He knew that if he caused any physical harm he'd be boneless, so to speak, in seconds- so that took a lot of the fun out of the majority of his ideas. He'd taunt him for a while first; make him sweat.

"So, what shall I do with you now, Potter?" Draco drawled, grinning down, full force at Harry.

"Quit stalling and do whatever you're going to do. I'm not scared, Malfoy; you don't have the guts to do anything!" Harry goaded.

Draco's temper flared; he raised his fist, ready to slam it down into Harry's face, when he caught himself and recognised Harry's jibe for what it was. He narrowed his eyes, lowered the fist and smirked.

"Not bad, Potter. You almost had me: one punch and we'd have a role reversal. I want to draw this out as bit… so, just tell me when you want me to stop." He grinned sadistically "and I'll know I'm doing well."

That's all for now folks- maybe the next update will be sooner… depends on reviews and spare time.

UST- unresolved sexual tension – yeah you know it ;-) hehe!

Review!