Aw, well, you turnips didn't show me the love with your reviews but never fear, I'm updating anyway. I've got no ranting to do about my time wasting for once so I'll just get on with the show! Here it is, after just a couple of days… CHAPTER FOUR! Woo.

The trio were making their way to the Great Hall for lunch after the Potions lesson when Pansy Parkison went past, having left the classroom a little late as she'd needed to talk to Snape. She smiled brightly at Hermione as she passed by and the Gryffindor girl waved cheerfully back. Harry and Ron exchanged a look at this display of friendliness, staring at her like she'd gone completely bloody insane.

"I take it your potion worked then?" The green-eyed male asked, a touch of humour present in his voice. Of course it had worked; she never did anything wrong. It was just bizarre to observe the effects of this particular one.

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione answered, shrugging her shoulders. "I've always liked Pansy, she's such a nice girl."

"Since when is that pug-nosed idiot nice?" Ron asked in disbelief, staring at her. "You remember what she said about you in the Daily Prophet that time, don't you?"

This elicited an angry look from Hermione. "Ron Weasley, you are a nasty little toad! Grow up!" With that, the girl stomped off, walking stiffly and looking very red in the face.

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times, in a remarkable impression of a rather surprised fish, then turned to Harry for support or at least confirmation that he hadn't just shoved his foot down his own throat. The latter merely shrugged, shaking his head. He just couldn't win with these two, they were always putting him in the middle.

"That potion is weird," he offered, hoping that would be enough of a consolation.

"Yeah, you can say that again," the redhead agreed, frowning.

"That potion is weird!" Seamus Finnigan remarked as he walked past, watching Dean Thomas conversing with a Slytherin just ahead of them in the dungeons.

"Yeah, you can say—"

"Shut up Ron," Harry interrupted, punching him on the arm. "Come on, I'm starving."

The Boy Who Was Rather Hungry started walking faster after grinning at Seamus, with Ron following obediently behind as they made their way towards the Great Hall. Upon arriving and sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry suddenly noticed that Hermione wasn't there. Had she been so pissed off that she'd decided to just skip lunch entirely? Uh oh. He was just looking around for any sight of her when suddenly a chorus of excited whispers started up and Ron whacked him hard on the arm.

"What the bloody hell is Hermione doing at the effing Slytherin table?" he demanded, looking furious as he stared over at the table.

Harry didn't reply and instead just gaped open-mouthed at the spectacle. His friend was sitting talking cheerfully to Pansy, completely oblivious to the glares of the rest of the Slytherins and the tall boy looming over her. It was only when Malfoy actually spoke, loudly enough for everyone to hear, that she looked up at him finally.

"Listen, you little mudblood freak, if you don't—" he stopped suddenly as a loud crack resounded through the Great Hall and a stinging sensation spread across his face. A red spot flared up on his pale face immediately.

"Don't you speak to her like that! Don't you dare!" Pansy screeched, sounding a bit like a banshee as she waved her hand menacingly at the male. Whoa.

Harry grinned at the shocked expression on the blond's face; that had just made his day… no, his year! Draco was so used to people being wrapped around his little finger, so having one of his prime admirers stand up to him over a Gryffindor of all people was surely the worst blow that he could receive. Upon noticing that the people around were staring and laughing, the Slytherin shoved past the still fuming Pansy and stalked off, choosing the path that took him past the Gryffindor table so that he could bump into Harry as he made his way out of the Great Hall.

"Did you see the look on his face!" Ron laughed, watching the retreating blond with an expression of pure delight. Once he'd turned back to his friend, he frowned suddenly. "Wait, how come you and Malfoy aren't acting like best buddies? Not that I'm complaining, though, I think that'd probably make me throw up!"

Harry shrugged, looking as though he didn't really care either way. Which he didn't, of course. "I dunno. That prat must've done something wrong." Once he'd finished talking, he started piling food onto his plate, hoping to think about something other than Draco Bloody Malfoy for once. Was that so much to ask for?

By the time dinner had come and gone, the effects of the potion had worn off and all of the students were pretty much back to normal. As they sat in the Gryffindor common room after all of the excitement of the day, Hermione was suitable embarrassed about the whole thing. She could hardly believe she'd actually had lunch at the Slytherin table (and had Pansy defend her to Draco!) and all she wanted to do was forget about it but that was rather difficult when random younger students kept approaching the girl to talk to her and ask lots of annoying questions about her strange behaviour at lunch.

Once the millionth first year had disappeared, the girl slumped back against the armchair she was seated in, sighing noisily. "I'm never going to get this Potions homework done if I keep being bothered. This is ridiculous! They should just mind their own business."

"At least you've got something to write about," Ron said, throwing down his quill with frustration and nearly knocking over the ink pot that had been set down on the table in front of them. "My potion looked so disgusting that I didn't even bother trying it. It's not meant to be lumpy and slightly green, is it?"

"Well that's your own fault! You should have tried harder and done it right, then there'd be no problem" Hermione paused in her tirade to shoo away a curious second year, then turned her attention to Harry, who had just been sitting in silence in the common room since dinner. "What about you, Harry? Have you got anything to write about?

"His didn't work, he's as stuck as I am." Ron answered for him, grinning and elbowing the boy.

The green-eyed Gryffindor barely even registered the other two talking, only enough to think to himself that Ron wasn't completely correct. He did have something to write about for the homework. Ever since he'd sampled that bloody potion, his thoughts had been consumed with Malfoy's face, his voice, his… everything. The blond was so infuriating, he just wanted to find him and beat him up but he didn't really know why. Obviously Harry wasn't very fond of Malfoy normally but this was different, it was… almost irrational.

The boy stood up, looking very decisive all of a sudden. Hermione stared up at him, expression one of confusion as he grabbed his school bag and started off towards the common room without so much as a word of explanation.

"Where are you going?"

"Library. Gonna research," he answered vaguely, waving her off with a hand then rushing off. As he disappeared out through the portrait, the two remaining sixth years exchanged a look, clearly worried and confused about their friend. What on Earth had him so restless and worked up? They certainly didn't know.

"Tantalising Tonic… Triple-Trust Potion… Ah, here we are! Unctuous Unction. Okay, let's see… 'The Unctuous Unction is in theory a simple potion to brew as it requires relatively uncomplicated methods, however the individual amounts to be used for each ingredient are extremely specific and important for the success of the concoction."

Well that didn't help him at all. Harry skimmed down the page of small writing, missing out huge chunks of useless information until he finally found a section that was much more relevant to his search. He didn't care about the properties of the potion or the exact way to make it, he just wanted one detail in particular.

"Right… 'There are many undesirable effects that can crop up if the potion is not made correctly. These range from extreme nausea to violent moodswings to, in extreme cases—"

The boy was just about to find out what exactly the worst effects possible were when suddenly a shadow loomed over him, blocking out the dim candle light so that he couldn't make the words out. Harry looked up slowly, expression becoming one of extreme distaste as he saw that it was Draco Malfoy stopping him from continuing. How typical, that boy was as ever the large thorn in his side.

"She said you have it. Give it to me now, Potter."

"What?" Harry asked, looking mystified.

"Ye Olde Potions Booke, moron," Draco elaborated in a snappy tone, staring down at the Gryffindor until he lost his patience and snatched the book away. Harry lurched up, knocking his chair over loudly in the process, and made a grab at the book.

"I'm not finished with that!"

His attempt at getting the book back was unsuccessful as the taller boy held it out of his reach. Oh, how bloody annoying was that! If only he'd spent more time eating vegetables at dinner instead of munching on thick sausages, maybe he would have gained enough inches to finally be as tall as his blond rival.

"You are now," Draco sneered, shoving the book inside his robes to deter the sixth year further, as surely he wouldn't dare to actually touch him. With a cry of "Give it back, Malfoy!" Harry lunched forwards, hands sliding under the thin material and groping about for the book. With his free hand, the blond started slapping at the hands on his body, until the Gryffindor shoved forwards and they toppled onto the floor.

The two boys landed hard on the rough floor, rolling about for a second with a lot of grunting until Harry finally managed to pin Draco down, almost ripping at his clothes as he tried to wrestle the book away. It wasn't so much about that now, though; it was more that he had the boy exactly where he wanted him, straddled and barely able to move. He was almost completely at his mercy, so it wasn't hard to grab the book out and hold it triumphantly in the air.

"BE QUIET AND STOP FIGHTING RIGHT NOW!" The librarian screamed in outrage, eyes popping and spit flying out of her mouth at the sight she beheld. "You've both got detention! Be back here at 8:00pm sharp or you'll regret it. Now get out!"

The two boys scrambled up, looking dishevelled and flustered as they glared at each other. Draco went to take the book one last time but stopped when the librarian screeched at him, instead scowling at Harry and hurrying out. After grabbing up his school bag, the Gryffindor gave a sullen stare at the woman in charge of the library then smoothed his uniform down, walking out stiffly as he tried to keep his anger in check.

Eight o'clock came all too quickly for Harry's liking. He was ushered out of the common room by a disapproving Hermione, who could hardly believe that he'd picked a fight with Malfoy in the library of all places. The girl wasn't at all surprised to hear that he had a detention and wanted to make sure he wasn't late to it, so she was almost kicking him out of the room in her frenzy to make sure he did actually go to the detention.

The boy arrived exactly on time, cursing Hermione in his head as he walked inside the library to wait. The ugly old woman was behind the desk, watching him with beady eyes as if expecting him to do anything else that she could punish him for. The Gryffindor was about to let out a frustrated yell when suddenly Draco decided it was time to grace them with his presence, swaggering into the library like he was a celebrity or something. Oh, he wished he could just leap on him and punch his lights out but that was what had gotten them here in the first place, after all, so perhaps it wasn't a good idea at the moment.

"You're late," the librarian hissed to the Slytherin, pointing up at the large clock on the wall. "I was just going to keep you until 9:30 but now you've got at least another half an hour as your punishment." Harry shot a smug look at Draco, until the woman added, "That goes for both of you."

The Gryffindor spluttered, looking outraged at this. Draco merely stood there sullenly, arms crossed across his chest as though he was a child who'd just had his favourite toy taken away. His private consolation was that at least Harry wouldn't get away early either, and the student in question was still looking gobsmacked at the unfairness of it all. Why did things like this always happen to him? And why did the stupid git have to be late? HE'D made an effort to be on time… ooh, it just wasn't fair.

"Earlier this afternoon, Peeves decided it would be funny to throw all the books in the back of the library on the floor. Both of you are going to put every single book back onto the shelves, making sure it's all in the correct order. You are NOT allowed to use magic to complete this task. If you cannot reach a shelf, use the ladders or the stools provided. If you don't finish tonight, you'll be back tomorrow to make sure you do," the woman finished with a nasty smile, gesturing to the back with a hand to indicate that they should get started soon if they wanted to finish before they were both old and grey.

The two boys exchanged a venomous look then both simultaneously stalked off towards the back, which was abandoned seeing as it was quite late and most of the interesting books weren't at the back anyway. It was only the dull Transfiguration NEWT students that routinely searched at the back of the library, going through all the different books on animagus transformations and animate to inanimate transformations. Although there was the odd student who went there to look in the books that had interesting sections about transfiguration for use in the bedroom, but that was a bit rarer in occurrence.

Once they'd reached the section they had to sort out, Harry could only stare in horror. Every single book had been deposited on the floor and they were in varying degrees of turmoil; some were open, some were hidden under the tables and a few looked like they were going to fall apart if they weren't handled with care. Merlin, this was going to take all bloody night! The Gryffindor sighed, glancing sideways at Draco who was looking equally put out at the task before them. When he caught the sixth year looking at him, the blond scowled, as he clearly felt it was his fault they were there in the first place.

"Get started!" The librarian's screech came right from the other end of the library, making both students jump and glare at each other before starting on the job.

Harry leaned down, snatching up a book on animate transfiguration and shoving it into place with the shelf. He pushed it into place with such vigour that a cloud of dust came out, surrounding his head and making him cough. At this, Draco laughed loudly, glad that he had at least the other boy's stupidity to keep him amused during the attention.

"Shut up," The Gryffindor snapped, once the dust had stopped flying around.

"Make me." Draco drawled, suddenly lobbing the book he had in Harry's direction. The Boy Who Was Pissed Off caught it, thanks to his superior seeking skills, and scowled before placing it on the shelf.

"I will, don't you worry," he growled, sending the blond a warning glare before turning his back and trying to get on with the job. The sooner they'd sorted out all the books, the sooner he'd be able to get the hell out of there and away from Malfoy. If it meant putting up with the other boy's insults and rampant moronic behaviour, then so be it. He would just have to be a bit more thick-skinned than usual, wouldn't he?

About an hour passed, with the sixth years sorting out books and placing them in the correct order on the shelves without much being said. There was the occasional exchange of insults when one did something wrong or otherwise did anything to warrant a comment but mostly they just got on with it, each working quickly to try and get through the detention with as little fuss as possible. At this point, however, Harry was tired of the constant action of lifting heavy books up onto the shelves, and decided to sit down for a couple of minutes. That couldn't hurt, right?

Plonking himself down on one of the hard stools, the boy glanced over to see how Draco was doing. The Slytherin was currently stretched right up onto his tiptoes, trying to place a book onto one of the higher shelves. Harry found his eyes were drawn to his stomach, as though by magic. Due to the fact that he was reaching so high, his shirt had lifted up slightly and exposed the flesh there. It was so smooth and pale, it looked as though it were made of porcelain. The Gryffindor was captivated.

"What are you looking at?"

The sudden voice broke his trance and Harry jumped, looking up at his face suddenly. The blond was staring down at him as though he had been doing something extremely peculiar… which he had, actually. It wasn't every day that he found himself staring at Malfoy and contemplating what his skin felt like to touch.

"Your ugly face, what does it look like?" The green-eyed student responded automatically, scowling. He stood up abruptly and moved back over to the shelves, grabbing a book from the floor and shoving it violently into place. He was imagining that the shelf was Draco's face and the book was in fact his fist, as that was exactly what he wanted to be doing at that precise moment.

"Find something else to stare at, fag," Malfoy muttered, tossing a book carelessly onto the top shelf and hoping that the librarian wouldn't notice.

Harry froze on the spot, a textbook called 'Sexy Transfiguration for Sexy People' halfway towards the shelf. Slowly he turned to stare at the other boy, the book dropping out of his grip and clattering noisily onto the floor. Had he just called him what he thought he did? Because if so… he was in for a world of pain right now.

"What did you say?" The Gryffindor demanded, hands clenched by his sides. Merlin, how he loathed him right now. The smug expression on his face made him want to scream, it made his insides boil and all he wanted to do was punch him. Yeah, he'd punch the boy so hard that he'd fall over, and then he'd jump on him and pummel him into oblivion. Mm, yeah, that was it—he'd straddle the boy so he couldn't get away, right, he'd straddle those slender hips, he'd ride him, he'd… Harry stopped that train of thought abruptly, staring at Draco in bewilderment.

"Need to get your ears cleaned out… fag?" The Slytherin repeated, putting his own book down and walking slowly towards Harry. They were close now, so close, and to the blond it was just the chance for another fight but Harry… he was scared that if they got any closer, he would just fall into those icy grey depths. Draco's tongue flicked out and moistened his lips as he waited for a response or a punch, anything, and the green-eyed one felt his throat go dry. He wanted, he wanted… what did he want? Merlin, he wanted to touch those lips, those full sensuous lips. They were irresistible, calling to him, and they were so close now that he felt if he simple inhaled, they would be drawn together.

Without warning, Harry's fist came flying down like a piston, smashing into Draco's jaw. The blond stumbled back, holding his face and wincing at the pain that had flared up. When he lowered his hand, the Gryffindor realised that his lip was bleeding. Oh, he'd touched those lips all right—he'd ripped the skin of those soft lips, tarnished their beauty. Wait—beauty?—no, they weren't, he was just tired after all of this work. Goddamn.

In a blur of movement, Draco lunged forwards, grabbing Harry by his collar and pulling him in close once more. The black-haired sixth year was breathless, shocked at the sudden action and completely unsure how to react. They were so close now that their bodies were almost pressed against each other, eyes locked together intensely.

"You'll regret that, you arse," The blond hissed, his warm breath tickling Harry's face. Without any warning, he was being shoved backwards roughly, falling into the table and sprawling over it as he'd lost control of his own limbs practically. Just as Draco was advancing on him, looking positively murderous with blood trickling down from his lip, the librarian appeared around the corner and he halted his movements immediately.

"Your time is up." The woman said, glancing round to mark their progress. Apart from the two books that had been dropped just seconds ago, they were pretty much done. "That'll do, don't come back tomorrow. But if I see either of you so much as raising your voice in my library ever again, you'll regret being born!"

Harry took that as a signal to leave, scrambling away from the table and glancing warily at Draco before hurriedly making his escape. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him so, suddenly letting his pride go, he let caution go to the wind and just ran, feet pounding on the floor until he had reached the common room.

And there you have it, chapter four! Remember, reviews happy authors! You want me to be happy, don't you? Don't you:( Either way, I hope you enjoyed that. The next chapter will be up within the next few weeks, though it may be a lot sooner if my muse continues to be so full of nice ideas. Hehe. And, yes, feel free to celebrate raucously at the first signs of slashy man-love!