Title: Neither Good nor Evil

Rating: PG – 13

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy; Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of its characters.

Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have never been friends. They were happy to stay enemies until unwanted thoughts interrupted. Add one of Dumbledore's prophecies and shake well.

Chapter Two

Focus

Much later, Harry entered the Great Hall with Hermione chattering in his ear and Ron pointedly ignoring her. They sat down and Harry resisted to urge to put his face down on his plate and go back to sleep. Hermione whipped out a book immediately and propped it up against the pitcher of pumpkin juice, using one hand to put food onto her plate. Ron piled a rather large amount of food on his plate as Harry spooned a decent amount on his plate, blinking tiredly. He shot a look across the Great Hall and caught sight of Malfoy. He fought to control his blush and then scowled.

"Why does he have to be so fuckin' sexy?" Harry muttered to himself, viciously stabbing at his breakfast.

"Who?" Hermione asked, leaning across him to grab the bread.

"Huh?" Harry shook his head slightly, trying to clear the image that had burnt itself into his brain.

"You said, and I quote, 'why does he have to be so fuckin' sexy'. Why does who have to be so fuckin' sexy?" She prompted, smiling slightly. With Harry's luck, she already knew.

"Oh, no one." Harry answered, lamely.

"That's bull shite." Hermione returned, uncharacteristically blunt.

"Hermione, you just cussed." Ron broke in suddenly. Harry raised an eyebrow at him while Hermione sighed.

"Ron, I've already called you a fucking bastard three times today. Why are you just noticing this now?" Her cheeks colored slightly and Harry knew she was trying desperately not to scream.

"I didn't notice…" Ron flushed.

"Of course you didn't," Harry concealed a small smirk, deciding to be cruel, "You were too busy staring at Lavender Brown's arse." Ron flashed him a quick glare. He shrugged.

"Ron Weasley, you are such an inconsiderate arsehole." Hermione scowled, stood and stalked off, tears in her eyes. Ron flinched back slightly.

"What was that all about?" He turned to Harry, blankly. Harry sighed.

"You're even more clueless then I am, Ron." He shook his head at his friend.

"Ouch, insulted by your best friend. Tell me, Weasley, how does it feel to be the lowest form of life on the planet?" A smooth voice questioned from behind him.

"Malfoy." Ron's fists clenched around his silverware. Harry turned around, slowly, fighting a blush at what went through his mind with the word lowest.

"How does it feel to know that more then half of the population thinks you're a vampire?" He returned, cocking his head to one side and grinning. Draco Malfoy raised one sculpted eyebrow.

"Have you been practicing, Potter? That actually bordered on an actual insult." Malfoy smirked, slightly.

"And that bordered on an actual compliment. Are you sick, Malfoy?" Harry raised an eyebrow at him, feigning concern.

"Worried, are you?" Malfoy's smirk widened, his eyes communicating thanks, apparently glad Harry hadn't mentioned the incident the night before.

"Not particularly. You have Snape to feed you soup and tuck you in. You should be fine in a few days, if Snape isn't feeling horny." Harry shrugged before wincing, seeing clearly in his mind's eye what would happen if Snape was feeling horny.

"Well, that was a distinctly terrifying mental picture." Malfoy shuddered, covering his mouth.

"Don't worry. I see it too. And I think I may need therapy for the rest of my natural life." Harry blinked hard, trying to clear the image.

"I'm going to leave before you find a way to torment me further," Malfoy went to turn away and paused, "See you 'round, Potter." He offered a half nod.

"See you 'round, Malfoy," Harry nodded back, fighting back a smile. Ron gaped at him as Malfoy turned and wandered off, "That seemed like a civil conversation."

"Yeah, with Malfoy. Remember Malfoy, Harry? Spawn of evil, Son of a Death Eater, any of this ringing a bell." Ron snapped.

"He's not going to go away, no matter what I say. So, why not just play his game? Anyway, I don't have the energy to fight with him." Harry shrugged, rubbing at his eyes.

"You've been tired a lot lately, Harry. Is something wrong?" Ron asked.

"It's hard to sleep when you have one roommate who snores like a fuckin' freight train and two others who shag like crazy every other night." Harry told him pointedly before realizing he'd just given away a secret that was not his to give. Ron missed the hint, instead latching onto the second half of the sentence as Harry had feared.

"Wait, who's shagging?" Ron asked, his eyes lighting up. Harry groaned and stood. Ron followed.

"It's not my place to say." Harry snapped, waspishly, rubbing his forehead to try to stop the headache that had begun at his temples.

"Oh, come on, Harry. Just tell me. I won't tell anyone else." Ron prompted, practically lying through his teeth.

"Ron, you gossip almost as much as Pavarti. It's not my place to say, it's not my place to know and it's not yours either." Harry's voice held a warning note.

"That's not very fair. They're in my dormitory too." Ron whined. Harry rolled his eyes and yawned.

"Shut up, Ron." He ordered, hurrying out of the Great Hall. He had homework from the entire week left to do.

ZxZxZxZxZxZx

"Of course I know who it is, Ron. I'm a girl," Hermione snapped, still angry with the redhead. Ron grinned at her, the argument forgotten in the need to know this new piece of information, "I'm not telling you."

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Harry knows. You know. Hell, Neville probably knows. Just tell me." He pleaded.

"No. Now get away from me." Hermione returned to her book.

"Her-mi-o-nie." Ron whined loudly.

"Harry! Get him away from me!" Hermione shrieked. Harry sighed and went to retrieve his pleading friend.

"Sorry, Mione. He got off the leash." He snapped, sarcastically, grabbing Ron by the collar and giving her an exasperated look.

"Oh, just take him away. I'm so tired of listening to him." Hermione retorted. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Ron towards the couch.

"Sit. Stay. Don't bother Hermione. See you later." He bit out and turned to leave. Hermione shot him a weird look on his way out but he disregarded it.

I have to find a way to focus. I have to get him out of my head. He thought, heading down the marble staircase and into the Entrance Hall. Flying. He thought briefly, before heading out into the cool October air. Half way to the pitch he realized that his Firebolt was in his room.

"Damn it," Harry quickly pulled out his wand, "Accio Firebolt." After a few minutes the broom came whizzing through the air. He caught it, mounted and kicked off, speeding towards the Quidditch Pitch. All thoughts were blown out of his head as he flew into the Stadium. Then he caught sight of a figure in the stands. A figure with platinum blond hair.

"Oi, Potter!" The figure yelled. Harry dove towards the ground, landing roughly.

"Malfoy?"

Next update in five reviews

Cheers,

Sarcastic Romantic