Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all plots and characters portrayed therein are not mine. Good thing too. The honor goes to JK Rowling.
Warning: I'm strange. And I'm a tease, so don't expect things to go very *fast*. May be a few spoilers and some wrong information or misspelled names. Also, some suggestions of Ron/Hermione, but there is nothing major.
Feedback always welcome

For an endless moment, all Harry could comprehend was that he was going to be spending the next year exclusively in Draco Malfoy's company. A whole entire year with Draco's leer, his teasing, his attitude, his…everything! No escape, no time outs, no please-leave-before-I-hurt-you, and worse yet, he'd want it that way. If his current condition were any indication, he'd probably make every effort to keep Draco near him. God, that was a scary thought. With a feeling of perfect calm, Harry turned to look at where Ron and Hermione stood.

"You understand that I hate you both now. Nothing personal, really." He intoned almost cheerfully. "I just wanted to warn you now so you're not surprised when I snub you in the halls and spread nasty rumors about you."

Hermione frowned in a 'its not my fault and I find it insulting that you would suggest otherwise' kind of way, but Ron was nodding. "Under the circumstances, I don't blame you."

"I would like to note that I hate all three of you very much and it is indeed personal." Draco spoke, more a grasp at attention than any real contribution to the conversation. He looked like a ruffled, annoyed cat that'd gotten a rather nasty shock at some point and wanted to claw to death the person responsible for it. Harry glanced at him, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be looking at that face for a long time.

[We're going to have to shower together.] A panicky feeling twisted his stomach and his face heated up. [Whoa! Bad thought., don't need that image. Maybe I can wash with my eyes closed.] But the idea of Draco seeing *him* naked was even more disturbing. To stand there knowing that those cold gray eyes were watching his every move, sliding over his bare skin...

Okay, he was officially blushing now. Not to mention the other reactions his body was threatening, which he currently lacked the mental capacity to evaluate. [Snape in a tutu, Snape in a tutu.] He closed his eyes and thought strongly of that particular picture until he calmed down. Draco's foot was pushing at his with unnecessary force.

"You're really going to get it when my father finds out about this. Your dad will be out of a job before you can blink twice!" Harry forced himself out of his internal panic-fit to see Draco flick his fingers dismissively. Ron was getting that look in his eye, the one that meant he was about to pounce and the consequences be damned.

Harry straightened up and poked Draco in the arm. "Malfoy, leave Ron alone. This is not the time to be trading insults."

"On the contrary, I think this is the perfect time to be trading insults." Draco drawled.

"I think you're all being utterly childish." Hermione noted with a bit of force, "Blaming each other-and me-isn't going to help anyone."

"You're the one who found the book and pointed out that spell!" Ron protested Hermione's attempt to 'escape' blame.

"So? *I* wanted to take to the Professors, *you* were the one who actually wanted to use it."

"Just like a girl to avoid taking the blame."

"I'm going to tell your sister you said that."

Ron paled. "You wouldn't!"

"Watch me."

Harry sighed and fell back on the bed, rather irked at the fact that his entire life had taken a drastic right turn, and all his two best friends could do was argue like five-year-olds. Beside him, Draco moved until their hips were pressed together. He pulled up his right leg, rested his elbow on his knee, and watched the bickering duo with raised eyebrows.

"Have I complimented you on your choice of friends recently, Potter?" Draco wondered.

"No, and I'd thank you not to start." Pressure was building at the base of his skull. [Lovely, another headache.] He closed his eyes tight, but that only made him more aware of Draco's closeness. The other boy's warmth was soaking into his side and his left arm had come to rest on Harry's chest. Harry focused his eyes downward, his vision blurred were it reached under the rim of his glasses, and glared resentfully at Draco's elbow.

[He's going to be touching me for the next year…we'll probably have to share a bed…I'll have to put up with his friends…his family…and what about Sirius and-and--] Oh my, what nice dizzy feeling. If only his stomach weren't so queasy.

Draco shifted and turned his head to look down at Harry. The expression on his face was caught somewhere between horrified and disgusted. [Hmm, looks like the news just sunk in.] Draco's mouth twisted unpleasantly.

"Just you watch Potter," he hissed, "I'm going to find away to break this thing and *then* I'll really make you regret it." Their eyes meet, cold steel clashing with bright jade, fierce and challenging.

Threat was clear, so was helpless panic and biting rage, in eyes that were less like ice than they were distant storm clouds. Storm clouds promising soul saving rain or heart crushing torrents in a single gust of wind.

Harry forced his eyes away and the world snapped back into alignment. An uneasy, confused expression covered Draco's face before he jerked his head away. Harry breathed in deeply and stared fixedly at the ceiling. He could hear Ron and Hermione still arguing the same subject, so his space out hadn't been that long.

"…and if you'd only stopped to think…"

"That's enough." Madam Pomfrey stopped Hermione mid sentence. "I think it would be best if you two left for the time being. They need a chance to get used to things. You can visit tomorrow."

"But we can't just leave him here with Malfoy!" Ron blurted unthinkingly, "Um…I mean-I…" He backtracked, casting his best friend an uncertain look. Harry wasn't paying attention anymore; he'd decided that he was better off just lying there and not making contributions to the conversation.

"That is hardly your concern," Pomfrey commented dryly. "Now, off with you both."

"All right." Ron sighed.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Hermione said softly. "Bye, Harry."

"Yeah, bye. But don't worry! We'll be back first thing tomorrow!"

"After classes."

"Uh…right. After class." Ron amended carefully. Harry forced himself up enough to nod goodbye, ignoring Draco's arm slipping down his chest.

"I'll see you later." He watched his friends leave a bit mournfully. Now it would be just him and Draco. Ugh. The door closed behind Hermione with a dismal click. Draco shifted slightly.

"Hey, don't I get to see *my* friends today?" He demanded petulantly. Madam Pomfrey frowned thoughtfully.

"I'd rather not. I think it would be best if the two of you got better…acquainted with your new situation." She gathered up the dishes from their lunch with quick, practical movements.

"But what-"

"Ron and Hermione were directly involved in the incident," She interrupted smoothly, "I wanted them present. Your friends, Mr. Malfoy, were not needed. You can see them tomorrow."

Draco frowned, obviously annoyed that Harry's friends were rated higher than his, "What about my father?" He bounced the foot that was hooked under Harry's ankle.

"Yes?" Madam Pomfrey needlessly rearranged the stacking order of the dishes.

"Well, aren't you going to inform him of this?" Draco pressed, the tone of his voice becoming sharp. Harry sat up further.

"That is for Headmaster Dumbledore to do." She stated firmly. "Now, I'll bring you something fresh to change into, but you're not to leave the hospital wing today."

"I want to know *directly* when my father has been informed of this…incident."

"Oh, come off it." Harry snorted in response to Draco's tone. The blonde boy favored him with a disapproving expression and drummed his fingers on Harry's chest.

"At least *I* have someone who cares about what happens to me."

"Frankly, I think I prefer the muggles to your dad, and that is saying a lot."

Draco's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared unbecomingly. "You'd compare *my father* to-"

"Before I forget," Madam Pomfrey interjected calmly, "When you cast the spell Harry, what color was it?"

"Color? Oh, um…gray or silver I think." Harry returned Draco's glare force for force. He wanted to stick out his tongue, but there was that whole maturity issue.

"Silver? Are you sure it wasn't green?"

"No, it wasn't green." [He is such an ass. Even after all these years, every time he opens his mouth, I start looking for something to throw. I should be used to it by now, but no, it just keeps getting worse…Oh look, his eye is twitching. He must really be annoyed.]

"Maybe black with white swirls?"

"What? No." Harry blinked, his interest in the conversation recaptured.

"It was silver." Draco verified, "I should know, it was coming right for me."

"Hmm. Well, then." Madam Pomfrey blinked rapidly, "And when it came back at Harry it was-yellow?" She offered hopefully.

"No, red."

"Red?"

"Red."

"Not pink or maybe mauve?"

"It was RED!" Both boys shouted in mutual frustration.

"Hmm. Really. That, well." Her gaze flicked rapidly between the boys. "I wouldn't have…hmm. I'll go get your robes." Looking mildly bemused, she gathered the dishes and headed out the door.

"Hey, wait! What in Hogwarts was that all about?!" Harry demanded of her departing back. He leapt to his feet…or at least made the attempt to, as such a movement would have disrupted Draco's contact with his foot and the other strongly disapproved of such a venture. When Harry leapt-or started to-Draco grabbed his lower arm below the sleeve and pulled. Harry responded by jerking back in the opposite direction, mainly out of surprise, and resulted in a messy and somewhat indecent sprawl on the floor.

Harry yelped as his head lightly struck the ground. Draco's shoulder pressed uncomfortably against his nose, his glasses partially shoved off his face with one earpiece jabbed into his cheek. He could feel the other boy's slender, but surprisingly heavy, body through the thin pajamas. A bony hip was jammed into his stomach and skinny legs twisted around his own. The pale line of Draco's throat was mostly blurred but otherwise discernable.

[I wonder what he would do it I licked him…] It took a heartbeat or two, but the rest of his brain finally caught up with that thought and roughly demanded to know what he had been doing while it was away. He let out an entirely undignified noise and franticly tried to get Draco *off* him.

[What is WRONG with my head?!? I can't believe--its impossible--I'm going crazy, it's that simple. Voldemort doesn't need to work hard to kill me, I'll just go stark raving bonkers on my own and he can pick me off whenever.]

"Malfoy, get off!"

"Don't yell at me, you're the one who started it." Draco pushed himself up and scooted back, but didn't pull away completely. He shook his head, sliver-blonde hair tickling the end of Harry's nose. "Are you okay?" Another head shake, "Bleh, I can't believe I just said that."

"I'm *fine*! Get off!" Harry pushed at Draco's slim shoulders, feeling warmth radiating into his palms. [He looks cold, but he's so warm, like a furnace.]

"I will, I will." The smaller boy shifted his weight to his knees, hands braced on either side of Harry's head. "Well," he smirked, longish hair draping around his face, "Its this interesting."

If Harry wasn't blushing before...

"Arrgh!" Griping Draco's shoulders, Harry pushed hard, up and over, rolling his whole body until Draco was under *him*. He sat up and scooted back, moving as far away as possible and still leaving their bare feet in contact. "You are an evil, wicked person." He announced, setting his glasses back into their proper position.

Draco widened his eyes innocently. "Am I now?"

"No, that's giving you to much credit." Harry leaned back until his head rested against the edge of the bed, wincing when it touched the sore spot. "Malfoy?"

"Hmm?"

"Accepting that I hate you and you hate me, is there any chance we could just not talk for the next few hours?"

"And do what instead?" Draco suddenly sounded as tired as he felt.

"Ignore each other."

Draco gave him a sardonic grin. "Right. Ignore each other."

"Just make the effort." Harry closed his eyes tightly, watching the swirling light and shadow patterns behind his eyes with fascination. Across from him Draco sighed deeply. He cracked an eye to see the other teen fall back onto the floor, arms spread in offering to the ceiling.

They stayed that way in silence, which was just fine.

Harry and Draco were still sprawled in their respective positions when Madam Pomfrey came back with some fresh robes. They continued to 'ignore' each other through an utterly embarrassing and awkward dressing session. Basically, Harry familiarized himself with the pattern on the wall while he squirmed out of and into his clothing; Draco rested a hand on his shoulder and hummed stripper music. He was refreshingly silent when it came his turn to change.

The ignoring continued as they were given homework to occupy their time. Harry was glad, both for the distraction work provided and the silence Draco was currently providing, even if it wasn't perfect silence. Ignorance was certainly bliss, but it was hard to ignore someone leaning against you and breathing in your ear. Well, maybe not *in* his ear, but close enough to be a bother.

[I wonder what he would say if I told him to stop breathing.] Harry's mouth quirked slightly. [Something insulting I'd wager.] Harry was lying on his stomach on the bed. Draco sprawled beside him, also on his stomach, and taking up more space then should be legal under the laws of science. Or magic for that matter. Harry concentrated on his book and not falling of the bed.

They had woken up in the early afternoon and the day was now fading into evening. Madam Pomfrey had checked on them twice and he could hear other students being treated in the main room for the hospital wing, but no one else came around. Harry wondered why Dumbledore hadn't shown up. He would have least expected Professor McGonagall to make an appearance, to scold him if nothing more. And Snape-well, he was still surprised the Professor hadn't swooped in like an eagle for the kill, set on retribution for messing with his favorite student. Harry was almost curious about what Draco thought of his protectors continued absence, but not curious enough to actually ask.

It was strange, just the two of them in the otherwise empty ward. In a way, it was lonely, but at the same time it was hard to be lonely with someone crowded up next to you. Draco's elbow dug into his side for a moment, moved when he lifted his arm to turn a page, and returned, but with less force. It was still irrationally annoying. [The book. Just read the book.]

[...After the twelfth time Nicholas Marduk found Alanna Tiamat listening in on certain private affairs, it became apparent that even though Animagi were rare, there still had to be someway to keep track of them…]

"Your lips move when you read, did you know that?" The usually drawling, bored tone was gone, leaving Draco sounding almost pleasant. Perish the thought.

Harry glanced at him briefly from the corner of his eye, and then focused on the book with renewed vigor. […At first, a very long and ridiculously complicated form was designed to be filled out by any wizard who'd preformed the Animagus spell. It coved fifty pages and questioned everything from the wizard's mother's maiden name to which brand of toothpaste they used…]

"You're doing it again."

Harry pressed his lips tightly together and plowed onward. [...After much debate, the form was thrown out and…]

"What are you reading anyways?" Draco leaned closer, forehead brushing his and nearly unsetting his glasses. Harry jerked back.

"Malfoy! Knock it off." He frowned, tilting his head away from Draco. "I thought we were ignoring each other."

"Hmm...I'm bored." Draco lifted the cover of the book and partially closed it to read the title, "'Wizard to Animal: A History on Animagus'. Huh, dull read."

"You're bored? So do homework! Entertain yourself." Harry reached down and, with a feeling of great relief, removed Draco's elbow from his side. Draco kicked the bed, nearly catching Harry's legs, but tucked his arm closer to his body.

"That was one talent I never did pick up. Entertaining myself, that is. I always had playmates as a child. And many friends when I grew up," He turned onto his side, still facing Harry, one slim hand resting on Harry's bare elbow. "I suspect you'd have gotten really good at it, though. Playing all by yourself in that Muggle house. Or did you have friends?"

"I'm not going to tell you." Harry stated, managing to keep his face blank. Why Draco's words bothered him was beyond him, but for some reason, he couldn't keep back the memories of sitting quietly in the closet, listening to Dudley and his friends playing outside. Or of hiding away in a corner of the play yard, hoping he would be ignored and hurting because he was ignored.

"My father always made sure there was someone around to amuse me." Draco continued, fingers flexing on Harry's arm.

"And I'm sure he'd toss some orders around if no one was forthcoming." Harry turned a page in his book, not really seeing the letters. Maybe Malfoy had some condition that prevented him from being silent for very long.

"That was never a problem." The tone of his voice indicated that subject line was dead. Harry reminded himself to bring it up again later. "One of my friends was this little witch named Hoshi, if I remember right. Tiny black-haired girl, looked like a doll." He paused. "Wonder what happened to her."

"Hmm. Interesting. Are you finished?" Harry closed his book, couldn't figure out why he had, and reopened it.

"I'm still bored."

"So be bored."

"You're a rotten companion." Draco noted, still disturbingly pleasant.

"Since when was I *your* companion?" Harry gritted his teeth. [This must be some new form of torture on his part. 'Killing with kindness', that must be it. Not that I would call this kind…]

"What else am I supposed to call you?" Draco asked reasonably.

"Potter. Or Harry. That should do." Determined to end this conversation, Harry turned onto his side, back facing Draco, propped his head on his hand and once again tried to read the (admittedly dull) book. Draco's touch followed his movement, brushing up his arm and under the sleeve of his robe, fingers trailing along the soft flesh of his inner arm. He shivered and hoped desperately that Draco wouldn't notice.

"I *meant*," Draco continued with gentle emphasis, "When we're in public and people ask about you, what should I tell them? I couldn't possibly call you a friend. To bad I can't call you my servant boy…"

Harry cast a nasty look over his shoulder. "Say that and I have every right to tell people that you were a monkey I transformed into a human by accident and now I can't get ride of you."

"A monkey?"

"Yes. And a real nasty one, too. Pissed all over my room and hit on my Aunt Petunia." Draco had a 'You're kidding, right?' look on his face. "Anyway, what do you mean by public? I reckon all the school knows about this by now, won't matter one way or the other what you tell them."

"We aren't going to spend the entire year cooped up in Hogwarts, are we? I, for one, plan on going home for the holidays and spending a weekend or three in Hogsmead." Those damned fingers rubbed his skin lightly, as if trying to draw another shiver out of him.

[Malfoy, you would have to haul me kicking, screaming, and biting to your parents house-for the holidays or otherwise.] "I doubt we'll be doing either of those until Headmaster finds away to explain it."

[Good thing Rita Skeeter isn't writing about me anymore. I can just see the headlines she'd come up with for this. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy: Secret Lovers" or some such nastiness. Ugh.] He shuddered. [Thank God. Thank you Hermione for dealing with her. It's almost enough to make me forgive you for landing me with Draco…]

"What I want to know is why I haven't heard about my father yet."

[Almost.]

"Despite any ideas to the contrary, the world does not revolve around the two of us," Harry reminded him, "Life still goes on. I'm certain they're busy with other stuff right now." [Or are finding ways *not* to tell your father. I'm such an idiot for agreeing to do this.] And that irked him the most. No one had forced him into this, he hadn't been tied up, or blackmailed, or even nagged particularly hard. He'd just agreed to it. [There's a lesson in this all of this. I just know it.]

"Hmm..." Even without words, Draco managed to sound both doubting and scornful. "Sure Potter, sure."

"Oh, bugger off." Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"Love to, but can't." The bed jumped as Draco suddenly tumbled onto his other side so he was pressed back-to-back with Harry, bare ankles touching. "Now I'm hungry."

"Demanding snot, aren't you? And do you have to lie so close?" Harry frowned; desperately wanting to squirm away and knowing doing so would land him on the floor.

"Why?" He could almost hear Draco's grin, "Embarrassed?"

"No."

"Liar." Draco snickered. He fell silent, making no effort to move. Harry chewed on his tongue and focused on not blushing.

[Damn him, damn him.] Harry looked down at his book, having nearly forgotten it in the bickering. [Deal with it; I have to deal with it. I'm going to be with him for a very long time.] Against him, Draco sighed deeply.

"I *am* hungry."

"That's nice."

Ron collapsed into one of the chairs in the Gryffindor common room with an explosive breath. "Well…damn." He announced, apparently lacking any other descriptive terms for the current situation.

Hermione sat opposite and seemed to agree with him, simply because she didn't argue his statement. Ron watched her uncertainly, waiting for a scathing comment, and was actually at bit of a loss when none was forthcoming. The common room was mostly empty, only a few other Gryffindors were there and they ignored the quiet pair.

"We...we couldn't have known." Ron ventured. Hermione finger-combed her wild mane and cast a look at the ceiling.

"No. And maybe that's why we shouldn't have done it." She stretched out her arms and then let them fall in her lap. Ron waited. As if sensing this, she glanced at him. "I'm not going to nag you, if that's what you're wondering. Much as I'd like to," deep sigh, "It won't do anyone any good. Harry needs our support, not our bickering."

Ron blinked, then grinned. "Well, nice to see you agree."

Hermione scowled. Ron beamed. After a short staring contest, she threw her hands up in defeat, stood from her chair, and stomped off muttering uncomplimentary things about Ron's ancestry.

Ron watched her go with a fair amount of amusement. After she vanished up the stairs to the dorms, Ron rested his head against the back of the armchair and stared into the fire. The amusement faded from his features.

"Sorry, Harry." He said softly, watching the dancing forms of the flame as the wood beneath turned to ash and sparks floated up the chimney.

Harry woke that morning to the feeling of being smothered and crushed. For an awful moment, he fought against the restraint; until that restraint cursed at him and squashed him a little firmer. Harry stopped struggling and let his foggy thoughts clear. He realized that there was cloth over his mouth and something heavy and warm inside the cloth. The weight pressing him down was definitely body shaped.

[Oh, right, Malfoy.] He reached up and removed Draco's arm from across his face. After a long minute of blinking in the dim pre-morning light, Harry took stock of the situation.

It appeared that even though, the night before, they had gone through all the trouble of pushing two beds together and merging the mattresses so the two boys would have enough room, Draco had somehow ended up sprawled on top of him. The other boy was on his back, head resting on Harry's upper right bicep, left arm curled above his head-and over Harry's face. The blankets had been pushed down and tangled around both their legs, leaving Harry hot and sweaty where Draco crushed him, and cold where he didn't.

"Wonderful, you're a bed hog." His shoulder hurt from Draco's weight. The blonde mumbled something and squirmed, trying to get more comfortable on his 'pillow'. Harry squeak in protest and sheer mortification. Coiling his fingers around Draco's hand, he used his legs and free hand to slid the other off of him.

Draco moved without protest, curling onto his side the instant he was on the mattress and tucking the hand Harry held under his cheek. Harry breathed harshly, cheeks flaming, and heart pounding. He stared down at Draco, seeing only a pale blur with dark marking for features and a yellowish blur for hair.

[Crap.] He thought incoherently. [Crap.] Draco's breaths ghosted out over his hand. Harry closed his eyes and settled back down on the bed, using his free hand to untangle the blankets and pull them over his body. Still fuzzy and leaden with sleep, Harry focused on his breathing until dreams claimed him again.