"My God Potter," Draco said, pumping an overload of false amazement into his voice, "are you taking loans out from the Weasleys or something?"
Harry glanced over at him sharply, a frown coming to his lips. This was not a good idea. It was like putting a snake and a mongoose in a cage together, and then pouring an entire colony of fire ants in after them in case there was any doubt that no one was getting out alive. "There's a blanket or two in the closet," he said evenly, "I'd go for the bottom one if I was you."
Draco pulled open the small oak door tucked in the corner of the room and looked in skeptically. Blankets was a definite overstatement for these pieces of cloth. They were towels. Or rags. Or... something else that he didn't know about. "Because its more comfortable?" he asked, digging under the first of the sheets and going for the second.
"Yeah..." Harry's voice trailed off, "its *more* comfortable. Lets go with that."
"Har, har," Draco snarled, pulling both blankets out of the closet and tossing them to the floor. He slammed the closet door behind him and laid the blankets out evenly on the floor, lining up all the seams. When he'd done that, he tucked in the edges to hide the frayed border of the blankets. He easily caught the pillow threw at him -or 'to' him, he was sure Potter would argue- and fluffed it in midair before placing it at the top of the blankets, and stood back to admire his handwork. "There is no way in hell Im sleeping here." He said finally.
Harry sighed. "Then sleep outside," he yawned, "because I'm not giving up my bed to you because you decided to hitchhike the damned Knight Bus to my house."
There was an uneasy silence for a minute.
"And we are *not* sleeping in here together," Harry snarled.
Draco snorted. "As if I'd want to," he said, "that wasn't what I was thinking about. You believe in fairness and truth and justice... and all the rest of that crap, right Potter?"
"I am not going to let you call me unjust because I didn't sleep on the floor for a guest. An unwelcome guest at that." Harry retorted, seized hold of his blankets, and spun over, wrapping them fully around him.
"No, No," Draco said, trying to force some degree of genuinity into his tone. It was hard, because he was feeling just the opposite. "I just thought we should at least make this equal odds. A contest or something. One that doesn't involve magic, because, you know..." That part was good. Make it look like his was revealing an embarassing weakness to gain some trust in the matter.
Harry groaned. "You aren't going to let this go until I beat you at something, are you?" he asked.
Draco shook his head. "No. No I am not."
With a heave Harry lifted himself to a crouching position on his bed, which bobbed a bit under the shift of weight, and Draco began to wonder how much better it would be sleeping on a bed as old looking as that one than sleeping on the floor. "How about arm wrestling?" he asked.
Draco raised his eyebrows. "What in the bloody hell is that?"
"Its a quick test we can do that won't make much noise to wake up my relatives, so that's what were doing."
"Right..." Draco clenched his teeth beneath his teeth as to not just scream that he was *not* a Muggle right now, even though he didn't have his powers, and he didn't understand stupid terms like 'arm wrestling. "I meant, what *is* it. How do we do it?"
"Oh..." Harry said, and for a minute Draco thought he was going to laugh. If he did, then Draco was going to put him through that cheap drywall behind him and leave him lying bloody in the hallway. But he seemed to swallow his mirth, and held out his arm crookedly. "We lock hands, and bend our arms like this..." he demonstrated quickly, as Draco looked on in utter lack of interest. "Then I try to force your hand down that way-" he gestured to the left, "and you try to force my hand down that way-" to the right this time. "-and whoever does it first wins."
*This* is what Muggles did in their spare time, Draco wondered. My god, no wonder they always looked so sad and tired when he saw them walking around the train station, they must have some of the most pathetic lives imaginable. "Fine," he conceded, "but do I get penalized if I rip your arm off?"
This time it was Harry's turn to 'har, har'. "C'mon," he urged impatiently, stretching out and placing his elbow down against his mattress, "let's make this quick so I can get back to sleep."
Draco wasn't moving. "Are you sure this isnt just an excuse to hold my hand?" he asked apprehensively.
"Yes, Draco," Harry answered him dryly, "I'm positive. Why are you just standing there?"
"Well..." Draco thought. Why *was* he just standing here? "Because we can't do it on your bed!-" he paused here, taking a deep breath and hoping Harry didn't catch how possibly obscene that phrase could have been. "We need to have a solid surface. The floor. Not good for sleeping, of course, but it should help for this stupid Muggle tr-"
"Right," Harry interrupted, and was out of the bed in a second, crouching on the floor with his arm out. "Now come the hell on, I'm tired."
"Yeah," Draco said, a smile creeping acrost his face. "OK."
He knelt down as if to mimmick Harry's position, but at the last moment seized hold of one of the folded in corners of the blanket and tossed it upwards, over the other boys head. It only took a few seconds for Harry to angrily rip the sheet away, but by the time he had he'd already heard the tell tale sag of springs- Draco was resting comfortably in his bed, his arms behind his head, and his blanket tucked in up to his chin. Harry stared at him in disbelief.
"You have to be kidding me..."
"Sorry Potter," Draco said smugly, "I don't sleep on the floor."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Neither do I," he said. "And neither do my Aunt and Uncle."
Draco blinked. What the hell did they have to do with anything?
Harry acted as if he was responding to himself. "And speaking of my Aunt and Uncle," he said, savoring the words, "all they need to be in here yelling at me at the top of their lungs is one little comotion. And then they would see this trespasser who'd snuck his way into our house, and have the police here in minutes."
For a moment, Draco mouthed words without any sound coming out, remarkably resembling a fish. There was a time where he feared muggle cops about as much as a Bee Sting, but without his magic, what was he going to do? Especially since his father seemed hell bent on teaching him a lesson. Realizing how stupid he looked, he spoke the first words that came to mind. "What if they didn't think I was a trespasser?" he asked.
"Right," Harry said, "they'll think you're Dudley. Except a Dudley who suddenly lost 200 pounds and who's eyes turned blue. Happens all the time, right?"
"No," Draco said, shaking his head, trying to sound confident even while he had no idea what he was saying. "What if they thought I was your guest."
Harry stared at him dumbly. He would just tell them Draco wasn't, right?
Draco grinned at him. "Your *guest*," he said, emphasizing the words for this time. Finally Harry caught on.
"Oh lord..." he said.
"I mean, lets think this out. They hear loud noises, run in, and another boys in your bed? With the way you dress Potter, I'm sure they’re half assured you’re playing for the wrong team already. What do you think seeing me would do for that assumption?"
Now it was Harry's turn to be at a loss for words. "So..." he said.
"So." Draco replied. "It's a standoff. But I'm the one who's already in the bed."
Harry groaned. He knew that no matter what, he was going to regret what he said next. "I'll make you a deal," he said, "since we already know about all the trouble we could cause for each other tonight. We share the bed." Draco's eyes widened, so he went on hastily. "Different blankets. Different pillow. And," he added, "I don't tell anyone at Hogwarts about this."
Terror flooded through Draco's veins. He hadn't thought about that! It would be the absolute end of his reputation. Well there was no way he was letting that happen. Screw pride, he had to save face. "Find," he sighed, "grab those blankets and get in. But if I feel anything touch me during the night, Im going to respond by hacking it with a switchblade. Got it?"
"Got it..." Harry said distractedly, wrapping himself in the blankets from the floor and sliding onto the matress. "And the same goes for me."
"Shut up, Potter," Draco said, already drifting off to sleep.
Harry smirked. "Good night to you too.