Harry woke up to an insistent poking to his ribs and shoulder. Opening his eyes with a groan, he was greeted by the blurry shape of a looming Draco Malfoy, and his devilishly sharp fingers. With a huff, Harry fumbled for his glasses, and slipped them on.

"What?" Harry asked, his voice still groggy with sleep.

"C'mon, get up," Draco said in an annoyingly cheerful voice.

Harry looked around. The room was dark. The windows looking out into the lake were black. There was no other sign of movement or life, anywhere.

He buried his face in his pillow. "Why?" he whimpered in a muffled plea.

Draco began tugging at his arm. "Come on! I don't want to go alone."

"What time is it?"

"I dunno, early. Father says it is good to get some exercise, to get your heartrate up, before you start an intellectually demanding day."

Harry gave Draco a devastated look, hugging his pillow tightly, as if it could save him from his brain-addled friend. "You always wake up at this ungodly hour?"

"What? No. Normally, I just do a bit of flying after breakfast, but since we're not allowed brooms, I wanna go running instead. So get up!"

Grudgingly, Harry eased himself up into a sitting position on his bed, his covers pooling around his waist, and his pillow still clutched in his arms. "You woke me up to go for a run? Are you insane?"

Draco heaved a dramatic sigh. "I don't want to go outside alone, and I know you want to make a good first impression, no matter what classes we end up having first, Teacher's Pet."

Part of Harry wanted to rebel against Draco's nickname by becoming the laziest, most apathetic Slytherin in Hogwarts' history, but the larger, more stubborn, part of Harry refused to be bullied away from his goals. So what, if he wanted to prove his worth to Professor Snape, and make his Head of House proud?

"…Fine. Give me a minute to get dressed."

Draco gave him a pointed look. You're not going to go back to sleep once I look away, are you?"

"Don't tempt me. No, I'll get up, you daft lunatic."

"Good. I'll meet you in the common room in five minutes."

By the time Harry stumbled into the common room, Draco was pacing impatiently in front of the fire.

"Do you even remember how to get back to the entrance hall?" Harry asked skeptically, as they stepped into the dungeon halls.

"…More or less," Draco hedged.

"If we get lost and starve to death, I'm blaming you."

Draco scoffed. "Have a little faith!"

Harry did not have faith.

He trailed after Draco begrudgingly, not even attempting to temper his early morning grumpiness, whenever Draco hesitated at an intersection, or decided to backtrack and try a different route.

"Next time remind be to take you to the kitchens first, Merlin, Potter," Draco grumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Next time, stay in bed, like a normal person."

"Don't be a Hufflepuff. Adversity builds character."

"You're one to talk. Even your friends think you're a spoiled brat."

Draco whirled on him. "Harry, shut up. Decide to have a fun, happy adventure with me, will you? I promise, a morning run is a good idea, and you're my friend. I don't want to have to hex you."

Blushing ashamedly, Harry lowered his gaze. "Sorry," he whispered, then, with a slow smile, he added, "Do you even know any hexes?"

"Shut up. We're nearly there."

Harry chuckled and shoved at Draco's shoulder. "After you, Marco Polo."

"Who?"

"Muggle reference. Never mind."

"Tell me later. I wanna know."

"You do?"

"Sure. I recognize this staircase! We're definitely close."

Harry followed Draco out of the castle, mildly concerned that they would get into trouble if they were caught. Everyone had been told what time curfew began each night, but no one had mentioned what time it lifted, probably because most sane people were content to stay in bed until they absolutely needed to get up in time to get ready for breakfast.

Draco wanted to run a lap around the lake, but Harry insisted they start smaller, as he didn't want to be stranded at the far end of the lake, too winded to continue. It was a big lake.

Reluctantly, Draco agreed, and they settled on doing as many laps as they could manage around the quidditch pitch.

It was a good thing Harry had put his foot down, because Harry was breathing heavily before they'd even finished their first lap, and Draco was clutching his side like he was dying.

Enduring constant games of Harry Hunting had given Harry a little stamina, at least, but Draco's pampered pureblood life had not.

"I'm dying," the boy wheezed, clinging to Harry like a life line.

"You are not, you're just out of shape. It'll be worse if you let your muscles freeze up, so keep walking."

"I can't. I must be bleeding internally."

"Running's a little different than flying, yeah?" Harry asked, with a laugh, completely unphased by Draco's withering glare.

"How do muggles play sports without brooms?" Draco whined. "This is barbaric."

"No, it's training. Adversity builds character, remember?"

Draco huffed, and stopped walking under the guise of stretching his limbs, his chest still heaving with every breathe.

"How come you're not tired?" Draco asked, accusingly, as if Harry had somehow stolen Draco's vitality, or life force, in order to accomplish such a feat.

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it, I guess. It gets better."

Draco scowled, then grimaced, and then, terrifyingly, settled into a hardened look of pure determination. "Same time, tomorrow?"

"No, no, I value my sleep. Leave me out of it!"

"Don't you feel wide awake and energized, now, though? Ready to think hard and absorb knowledge?"

"Not worth it."

"…I'll bring you breakfast in bed tomorrow, including the strongest tea they have in the kitchens," Draco wheedled, recovering a bounce in his step, as they walked back to the castle. "Please?"

"Arg, fine," Harry agreed, instantly regretting it, as Draco gave him a smug, victorious look.

"Brilliant. Race you back to the dorms?"

"Aren't you bleeding internally?"

"Nonsense, Malfoy's don't bleed. Race?"

"You're going to cramp up again."

"Race?!"

"You're on."

Their sprint devolved into a wrestling match at the bottom of the stairs, when Draco did, indeed, begin clutching at his side again, and threw himself at Harry's back to keep from losing. They both tumbled to the floor, and a mad scramble of knees and elbows morphed into a new race of crawling, grappling, and poking to get the upper hand.

They were both utterly exhausted, but laughing like maniacs, when they finally found their way back to the dorms.

"You two are up early," Gemma Farley commented from one of the plush sofas littered about the common room.

"Went for a run," Draco wheezed, knocking his shoulder against Harry's.

"Well, get cleaned up. I'm escorting you firsties to the great hall in about twenty minutes, and I'll leave without you, if you're late."

"Yes, ma'am!" Harry said, grabbing Draco and dragging him to their room, so they could shower and change.

Their bleary eyed dormmates were just getting up, and were none-too-pleased with Harry and Draco's overtly chipper attitudes and loud energy.

Draco seemed to thrive off of being able to get under they're year-mates' skin so easily, and began gleefully needling Theo and Zabini with reckless abandon, as they gathered their toiletries for the showers.

He left Vince and Greg alone. Harry couldn't blame him.

Greg appeared to be stumbling around the room in his sleep, as he got himself ready, and Vince looked one excuse away from going on a rampage.

Harry followed Draco's lead, and gave both boys their space.

No need to be suicidal on their first full day of classes!

Harry could not wait to get to breakfast, and see what their schedule would be for the day. Hopefully, they'd have potions first, so he could show off to Professor Snape what all he'd learned.