No please no please no no no no no n-

"Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter."

Professor Mcgonagall, their new headmistress,  announced, forcing out a groan from the addressed boys. As cliché as it sounds, somehow, they always seem to be assigned together contradicting how they seem to hate each other with their last drop of blood. And their professors? Don't even mention them. They've got this sadistic pleasure of bringing them together and making them suffer. A snap of the professor's sharp fingers brought them back to the reality.

"That's all, students. I expect your assignments to be submitted after your Christmas holidays. No cheating, no not doing the projects and absolutely no backing off." Harry felt as if it was directed at him and he couldn't be more right.

"Now, off to your dorms."

xxx

"She can't do this! This....this is unfair!" The trio was walking up the stairs, with Harry being extra whiny and the other two giving him sympathetic pats and looks now and then. Yes, situations like this were not rare, but spending the whole of the Christmas holidays at Malfoy's was not quite an appealing idea.

This year, they had to work in partners, and separate projects for each subject they opted for. And surprisingly—at least to Harry and Malfoy—their forte of choices resemble in ways more than one, resulting in them being partners for all of the subjects. As if Harry's holidays could get any more worse.

For transfiguration, they have to sharpen their skills and weirdly enough, Harry thought of turning Malfoy into a ferret. For Defence Against Dark Arts, they have to improve their Patronus—which was quite easy for the brown haired boy, due to his previous acquaintances with his. For Potions, Slughorn–yes, Professor Macgonagall re-appointed him which he happily accepted–assigned them to brew the 'Draught Of Living Death' and he had this expectation that Harry would be able to bee it perfectly. Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout generously gave them nothing but to revise their chapters.

Harry groaned again, startling a first year near him.

"Well, she just did. You can't do anything to change that." Hermione deadpanned.

"But but-"

"No buts Harry, you know you have to do this. Your internal marks depend on this activity," Hermione countered with Ron adding, "all this social interaction and shit or whatever she's thinking in that extraordinary head of hers." Ron tried to console him, but it only seemed to worsen his mood.

"I can cope with the Dursleys but Malfoy? Never in a million years! I would rather die than interact with him!" The thought of spending time with his worst enemy and doing anything other than throwing threats and curses at each other scarred Harry.

"Well about th-" Ron started.

"Good to know the feeling's mutual Potter." A sharp voice cut through his speech and Harry didn't have to turn around to know whom that voice belongs to. They always seem to be on the same page everytime. Much to Harry's frustration.

The three turned around, only to meet the blonde they were talking oh so lovingly about, a prominent smirk on his lips. Malfoy sure knew how to get on people's—especially Harry's—nerves.

"What? Too scared that you'll confess your unrequited love to me if we work together?" Malfoy laughed, his eyes filled with mock. Narrowing his eyes in a glare, he was going to give back a snarky comment, but Ron's hand held him back.

"Get the fuck away from him." Ron snarled,"he ain't a homo like you."

For a moment Harry thought something changed in Malfoy's features but it wasn't visible the next time he blinked. Must've been his imagination.

"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, her face morphing into that of a stern look. "If you say that word again, our friendship is over Ronald Weasley." She pointed a finger towards a shocked Ron.

Suddenly Harry felt as if Hermione's voice went down a couple notches lower, and her eyes held an unknown expression. Harry felt as of she wasn't her anymore as she uttered those words. He was stunned but not more than Ron. Hermione never talked like that unless someone really pissed her off and it was scarcely Ron.

"You're taking his side? What the bloody hell 'mione?" Ron was full on yelling now, catching the attention of a few first years who were walking nearby.

"Keep your voice down. Yes, you heard me. If you utter it just once again, I'd punch you right here, in front of everyone on the staircase and as heartless as I may sound, I won't regret it."

"Fine, I don't don't fucking know why you're protecting that bloody git but I don't like his germs crawling onto me."

And just like that, Hermione's hand clasped into a fist and before Ron could comprehend, she was already landing a strong punch on his face. Harry noticed Malfoy touching his nose, maybe remembering his past experiences. Hermione might look nice and all but damn, she had one hell of a strong punch.

"You you-"

"It's over." Hermione cut him off. "From this moment onwards, I don't know you."

And Hermione stormed up the stairs, her bushy hair brushing past them. It all happened so fast, Harry was still comprehending what the hell just happened.

"It's all because of you, you bloody queer! She punched me because you came! Bloody hell, why do you even exist? You just always manage to ruin things for us! I wonder what your dear father if he knew you sucked dicks huh!?"

Malfoy's expressions hardened as he took in the words shot at him. His cold eyes seem to turn colder each second and it sent chills to anyone who stared at them for long. Malfoy gritted his teeth, his expressions not quite deciphered by Harry. But he interfered nonetheless.

"Come on, Ron. Just just let it go. I'm feeling tired from all this." Harry interrupted, seeing it was getting out of control and somehow dragged the fuming boy towards the Gryffindor dormitories.

After taking a last glance at Malfoy, he refused to accept the fact, that a pearly drop was making its way in the corner of his grey eyes-assumably devoid of emotion.

xxx

"I want to rip him apart, I swear," Ron was still fuming, his face becoming more red by the second, as Harry watched his friend's face displaying fifty shades of red.

"Why're you so angry? He just taunted me like usual didn't he?" Harry asked after a while, when he assumed that Ron's face was showing only five shades of red. His head snapped up, so fast that he startled the brown haired boy.

"You're saying I won't get mad?" Ron asked incredulously. "He called you a homo for merlin's sake!"

Harry invisibly flinched from his choice of words and even though he doesn't swing that way, it doesn't mean he is against that sorta thing.

"Technically he didn't," Harry retorts quietly, carefully choosing his speech. "He just joked that I may or may not have a crush on him, easy. You don't need to take it seriously as if I do have a huge crush on him. Ew, the thought scars me." Harry shivered uncomfortably, imagining if he and Malfoy got together. Not going to happen. Never.

"See? That's what I said!"

Harry made a face before turning away. He might as well refrain from trying to make sense to Ron, because his best friend would never understand him anyways, not when he's that furious.

xxx

"You must serve the Dark Lord....Draco Malfoy..." A cold shiver slithered through his whole body as the blonde boy woke up with a start.

His room was dark, with no presence of a second person as he looked around his heart beating fast. Pearly beads of sweat was forming over his forehead as he replayed the dream in his head. He felt if again.

Fear. Obligation. Helpless. Pathetic.

It struck him in waves, and he trembled, his body going through shock waves as he remembered the incident.

come closer dear, boy, have no fears, it's me, your master.

Draco's lips pursed in a thin line, as his legs trembled, his heart beating irregularly as he moved forward. He didn't wanted it. He hated it. The cold unwelcoming atmosphere seemed to bite down on his skin. The dark mark on his wrist which was covered by the long sleeves of his shirt burnt, and the pain shot through his skin. Draco tried, but fell down on his knees clutching his wrist. The mark was burning through his skin. He bit down on his lips to prevent the pained screams that threatened to come out if left any space. Blood oozed out, but Draco still held his lips between his teeth, his face contorted into that of a pained one.

"Come closer." The Dark figure ordered.

"Go ahead Draco, The Dark Lord is seeking your assistance!" Lucius Malfoy whisper yelled, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

"Pain is for the weak, Draco. Come closer." The slithery, cold voice uttered yet again. But Draco couldn't speak, let alone stand up.

"I see." It whispered. "Cruicio." A cruel curse indeed, as the pain burnt through his skin. Draco couldn't stop himself, and helpless screams cracked through him, echoing in the wooden house. His fingers scared the wooden floor, tears spilling incessantly from his helpless grey eyes, as his lean body writhed in pain. Intense, scorching pain. He felt as if someone was burning him alive, savouring each second as they set fire to each of his organs. He was tearing apart.

"Crucio."

Draco doesn't remember how long the pain was coursing through his body, but he felt his vision blur. And the pain slowly lessening. His eyes feebly turned towards his father, but those eyes held regret, pity, and hatred for the poor boy. He closed his eyes, hearing the footsteps fading, and the same stone cold voice whispering, "prepare him." and it was over.

Draco didn't wanted to remember that. He wanted to forget. But it kept coming back. He held back the tears, his fingers tightening around the sheets.

"Pain....is f-for t-the weak." Said he, closing his eyes as his eyelids felt heavy, pushing him into a dreamless slumber.

xxx

"Wait, Potter!" Malfoy called out when Harry came out of the boys bathroom. He raised an eyebrow catching the sight of the blonde haired boy running frantically towards him. He halted in front of him, and panted irregularly, placing his palms on his knees.

"Uuuh..?" Harry uttered, when Malfoy held up a hand to ask for a few minutes. When he seemed sober, he looked up at the shorter boy.

"About that assignment."

Oh. As much as Harry wanted to avoid to avoid this whole situation, he couldn't because even he knew, that this project was important.

"Yes?" He replied.

"Will we do it at yours or mine?" Malfoy questioned.

"Yours. They wouldn't allow any strange magical activity going on inside their house. So..." Harry said.

"Okay. Then I'll take you to mine." Malfoy uttered quietly.

"Okay."

The conversation being awkward was an understandment. Both of them, somehow didn't find any threats or derogatory words when they talked, considering they always had them at the tip of their tongue when they were with their friends. Now that they talked alone, it evoked an unfamiliar atmosphere, one that Harry never would've believed in if he didn't talk to Malfoy himself.

Malfoy gave a small nod, and turned away to return to wherever he came from, when unconsciously, Harry called him.

"Ma-Malfoy?"

"Yes?" He turned back. A questioning look marred over his face.

Harry thought he'd tell how he didn't like Ron calling him a 'homo'. How he didn't mean any of that. Ask if he was okay and maybe to confirm that he's not hurt by his best friend's cruel words. But when he opened his mouth, he was at a loss. The reality of the situation hit him—he is Harry Potter and the boy standing in front of him who looked so innocent, not the Malfoy he knew, but he was, indeed, Draco Malfoy. They are supposed to be enemies. He shouldn't be as concerned as he is, for the boy.

"B-bye." Harry doesn't know why he stuttered, or why he said that. But that weak smile at the corner of the taller boy's lips somehow made him not regret his decision.

"Bye, Potter."

xxx

*Le time skip (sorry for being a lazy ass)*

xxx

The train came to a halt with a jerk, and Harry held his breath. It's time. He might sound crazy but he felt a shiver of nervousness and dare he say, excitement of being in a place that's not his cupboard, nor the burrow and neither Hogwarts. Of all the places in this way too big world with about seven billion people he had to stay with Draco freaking Malfoy.

"Umm Harry are you feeling alright?" Hermione raked her concerning eyes over Harry's over stiff form. They were the only ones, considering Ron didn't sit with them, and sat with Neville, Dean and Luna.

"Ye-Yeah. Just a bit dizzy...."Harry mumbled. "Ok no. I'm nervous. I don't know how I'm going to spend the whole thirty days with Malfoy? What if what if he tries to kill me? What if what i—"

"Harry Harry Harry, it's okay. He's not gonna kill you. He li—" Hermione stops midway, her lips snapped together in a thin line.

"He li.....what?" Harry questions.

"N-Nothing. Just go ahead, will you?" Hermione pushed him out of the train and onto the platform. And sure enough, Harry's eyes caught sight of the tall boy who was standing in one corner, his back resting against a stone pillar. His golden locks were falling lazily on his face, his hands buried inside the pockets of his overcoat, and his eyes were directed down thinking about something, probably in his own little world.

"Go on!" Hermione whisper yelled to Harry who was intently observing the waiting boy.

"Uuh...." He started.

"Come on Harry. Just go. He's waiting for you." Said the bushy haired girl giving a warm hug. "I'll write to you, and I'll make sure Draco doesn't do anything to kill you, okay? Now go!"

She rushed away before Harry had a chance to say anything. He pondered, confused. Since when did Hermione start calling Malfoy by his first name. And what on earth could she do to convince Malfoy not to kill him. It was just so confusing. Nevertheless, he trotted through the ocean of wizards and witches and animals towards his so called partner. 'Project' partner, that is.

"H-hey..." He quietly whispered.

Malfoy turned back so fast Harry thought he'd snap his neck but he the gave a smile—he has been doing that a lot lately—and nodded.

"Hi." He said.

"Uuuuh....so...."

"Follow me, okay?" Malfoy said, with a soft gaze and motioned towards the exit. Harry wondered if Lucius Malfoy actually allowed Harry to stay in the same house where he does, he doubts that Lucius Malfoy would like Harry to be anywhere in his vicinity. He was drowning in his own chain of thoughts again, which headed nowhere when he felt warm fingers wrapped around his wrist in a gentle grasp.

Malfoy.

"Don't get lost. I won't be able to find you if you do, you're just too short." Malfoy joked, completely ignoring the fact that he was holding Harry's wrist and sending him into a plethora of unknown emotions.

"Wh—hey, I'm not short!" Harry retorted, glaring at the taller boy, emitting a chuckle from him.

"Sure sure, Potter."

And they were quiet again.

xxx

Harry was even more surprised when Malfoy revved up the engine of the black Mercedes, and Malfoy would be lying if he said he didn't feel a tad bit smug at Harry's wonderstruck expression.

"You.....car....since.....but.....when....but..." He stuttered.

"Come on Harry, the fact that I am a wizard doesn't mean I'm not involved in the muggle world." Malfoy looked amused. "And this is just one of the worldly things that I own."

"But your father..." Harry continued.

"Doesn't know." He had a mischievous smile on his lips, and he turned his face towards the still shocked boy. "Don't tell him."

And Malfoy was speeding off to a direction Harry had yet to know. He just had a faint idea that wherever they're going, it was not towards Malfoy Manor.

xxx

Malfoy swivelled his car into an alley and suddenly they're in front of a regular house, with a front porch. Malfoy pulled up in front of it, turning off the engine.

"I never knew that the day I'd see Draco Malfoy driving will ever come." Harry uttered still in a daze.

"Well, you don't know many things about me, Potter." Malfoy gave a smug smile, and motioned towards the  house. "Please."

Harry was getting astonished each second for a million reasons. First, Malfoy held his hand. Yeah maybe that's not quite a valid reason to be surprised but ok, yeah it's surprising. Second, Malfoy had a car he could freaking drive. And truthfully, Harry never believed in his wildest dreams that Malfoy would even touch anything of the muggle world. Third, Malfoy owned a place of his own—Harry had not the faintest idea how that is possible for an eighth year student with no knowledge of the muggle world at least that's what he thought. And moreover, he didn't know what awaited him in these thirty days.

"Are you going to stand outside all day? Well, I don't mind but we can't do the project out here in the open can we now, Potter?"

Harry gave a small "yeah I'm coming" and followed him inside the house. He should stop doing it, thinking about matters, that involved Malfoy in every possible way.

For the umpteenth time that day, Harry gasped, at the well-furnished place, which was just perfect.

"You don't have to be so surprised, you know. It's just my hideout." Malfoy explained giving Harry an amused look.

"Ye-Yeah....sorry 'bout that. But you know, well, I never thought you to be of the uuuh....what do you call it....uh muggle-ish type?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows at his own awkwardness. Well, it's not his fault that Malfoy makes the awkwardness multiply by million times.

"I think I understand. Well Potter, I'm not "muggle-ish" I'm just making sure that the people living nearby doesn't call the police on me for living in a no man's house or for strange happenings in their area."

"Fair point." Harry looked around the place, scrunching his nose at the over excessive amount of green and silver in the furniture. "You live alone?"

"What do you think? My father would burn this place up as soon as he comes to know about this place and I don't think you'd be that violent so yeah, you're the only one to know about this place. And anyways, no one would come with me right...." He trailed off looking down. Harry doesn't know why but all of a sudden felt bad for asking that.

"Ok now that you're here, you can freshen up. The bathroom's in the left and bedroom's in the right. You can go first." Malfoy said, dragging both of their suitcases in a specific corner.

"Okay." He thought for a second and called out to him again. "Ma-Malfoy....I'm...." he stopped again. He can't say it. He can't say that he didn't mean when he said that the Dursleys are better than him. He can't say that he liked his company more than he should. Nope. It would be awkward again. Maybe later.

"N-Nothing. Sorry."

"You're being weird, Potter."

"N-No...umm...I should go." He stumbled his way towards the bathroom, tripping on his way and clumsily opening the door of the bathroom.

"Is he going to be okay?" Malfoy stared at the trail Harry went and wondered. Potter surely was acting weirdly around him. And shockingly, Potter didn't even once, throw insults and threats at him today.

xxx

"Uuuuh so should I sleep on the couch?"

Harry noticed the presence of a single bed in the barely furnished bedroom and contemplated if he would sounded strange asking that question.

"Even I used to not like you that much, I wouldn't ever ask you to do that." Malfoy said, a smile creeping up on his face. Harry scratched his neck sheepishly one thought crossing his mind then getting pushed to somewhere used to not like you? the hell does Malfoy mean? Then he's back to where they'll both sleep.

"You take the bed, I'm fine on the floor."

"B-But it's cold, wouldn't it be uncomfortable for you?" Harry found himself asking, without thinking a second time

"You're asking me if I would be uncomfortable? Are you sure you don't have a fever Potter?" Malfoy mused, his lips curving up into a smile even after his earnest tries of not to smile.

"No...I....well...ok fine, yes. We're going to work together, so I can't risk you getting sick now could I?" Harry laughed uncomfortably, fiddling with his fingers.

"Whatever you say, Potter. But I'll be okay." He pulled a mattress and a blanket from the side of the room and slumped down on it, covering his body with the blanket.

You're like a koala Harry was almost going to blurt if he hadn't stopped his blabbering mouth.

"Good night, Malfoy." He laid on the bed and covered his body nicely making a warm habitat out of the blankets.

"You too, Potter."

xxx

Harry was suddenly woken up from his slumber by harsh pants coming from the floor. He rubbed his eyes and looked down only to find the lithe boy writhing and convulsing, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"No...Please...No...it hurts....please....Ahh...." The scream  sent shivers of fear trickling down Harry's spine. Malfoy looked so vulnerable, his face scrunching in pain and helplessness down there, his eyes tightly closed as if someone is hurting him. And he's in so much pain that Harry couldn't bear anymore. He could for once leave their rivalry in the bin.

He hurriedly came down from the bed and rushed to Malfoy's side. Harry doesn't know what came over him, but he pulled Malfoy's body closer with his small hands  in his arms and not for a moment he thought that Malfoy was his enemy for almost seven long years. That moment, he just wanted to comfort the boy crying in pain.

"It's okay, it's okay. It'll be over. I'm here, I'm here I'm here. It'll be over, I'm here Draco. Don't worry, I'm here...." Harry had no idea what on earth he was blabbering about but he only knew that he had to take the pain away. He placed his hands on the taller boy's cheeks, hoping to soothe him.

Malfoy sobbed, clutching onto Harry's shirt, not caring that it was the Harry Potter that he's supposed to hate, stay away from. His fingers clasped onto the fabric of Harry's shirt, tears soaking the material as his body trembled, holding onto Harry as if his life depended on him.

"It hurts.....I can't be a death eater, I can't Harry, they'll force me to be one...I don't want to be like that Harry....They'll take me away...I don't want to be a death eater Harry..." He cried, and Harry felt his heart quenching at his words. Harry didn't hesitate to move his fingers and wipe the tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

He never knew. He never saw. He never tried.

He never tried to see the Malfoy underneath his cold cover, never seen his eyes closely enough to understand the immense pain they have been hiding oh so brilliantly. But he knows now. He saw the Slytherin Ice prince crying in pain, with no one to hear his cries for help and hold him. But now that he's here, he will hold him, as long as he doesn't stop crying. As long as Malfoy will let him. Harry was in a trance as he placed a soft kiss on his forehead and gently ran his fingers through his blonde locks whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

"I'm here. I won't let them take you away. I'm here, Draco."

Draco. His name escaped his lips so naturally, as if he had been calling his name for years. But both were too soaked in the other's presence to pay heed of the small details.

xxx

"Had a good sleep?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Harry watched dumbfounded as Malfoy prepared breakfast. Malfoy was avoiding him like he had the Ebola virus and totally trying to ignore last night's happenings.

"What—"

"Are you going to stand there like an idiot the whole day?"

Harry didn't understand what happened to him but he didn't question any further. If Malfoy wanted to not talk about it then be it, he wouldn't either. Let's just pretend, last night never happened.

They had their breakfast, looking at everything but each other, and ate the food–which seemed tasteless on his taste buds–quietly.

xxx

"Should we start with Potions?" Malfoy questioned after a minute of silence, and them doing nothing.

"Sure. Let's get to it." Said Harry. "But one question, where do we get cauldrons? Or whatever we need to make....draught....what was it?"

"Draught of living death. And don't worry about the requirements, I've got I covered. Come with me."

They went up the creaky wooden stairs, in a room which more or less resembled their Potions classroom, only smaller. Harry watched in awe as Malfoy took out the ingredients from a shelf and placed them on the table in the centre of the room.

"Do you have everything in this place?" Harry asked, his surprise yet to fade.

"At least, what we need. Now don't ask silly questions, Potter. Just get to it."

"Okay okay. Stop being so Malfoy."

"What do you expect? Now, crush—not cut Potter—the Sopophorous beans and collect the juice, yeah, oh come on, you're not doing an excellent job now are you?" Malfoy tsked, "Now move over, and let me handle this."

Harry made a face at him and shifted an inch. Then it hit him.

"How....how can.....you—"

"Have the book? Found it in the room of requirements. Needed a bit of recovery after that ummm fire." He need not be told twice as Harry knew which fire he was talking about, the one that Crabbe caused.

"Now would you probably concentrate here?" Malfoy snapped at the still surprised brown haired boy.

"Yeah...ok...fine."

After nearly one hour, the boys left a sigh of relief watching the beauty–in Malfoy's eyes–that they had created or Malfoy had managed to create.

"See? This would've taken hours if not for the Half Blood Prince."

"It's weird to call him that, like Snape is no way near a prince." Harry said as Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "He is a warrior, the most selfless and bravest man I knew." And Malfoy smiled. Indeed, Snape indeed, was the bravest man.

After a minute of comfortable silence, Harry spoke up. "Do we...uh...need to check if we did the potion right?"

"Not now Potter, I need a break." And he's off towards the kitchen leaving a confused Harry behind. He came back after about fifteen minutes with two glass of hot chocolate contrasting the snow outside. Harry was almost going to say you are like a good wife to me and he probably would've if he did not but his tongue with a mind of it's own.

"Ouch!" Of course, it hurt.

"What are you doing Potter? Just get over here," Malfoy said from the couch. Harry obliged, trotting his way towards the couch and plopping down on it. The couch wasn't that large and must he say, they were sitting a bit close to each other, close enough to send Harry's heartbeat in a frenzy.

The hot chocolate left warm puffs as Harry told hold of a glass and took a small sip of the delicious liquid.

Malfoy insisted that they should watch something again to Harry's surprise at his involvement with mugglish things—as he called them. But Malfoy regretted when he gave Harry the freedom to choose any movie from his library and Harry stuck on one.

"Why not this?" Harry questioned looking curiously on the cover where two boys rested against each other, the shorter one's head on the taller's shoulder.

"You're not mature enough to watch Call Me By Your Name, Potter." Malfoy tried to change his mind, but Potter gave a 'there is no age when it comes to movies' and clicked the play button.

Malfoy wanted to die out of embarrassment.

xxx

"Th-that was intriguing." Was all Harry could say when the credits started rolling up the screen. Malfoy stayed still, too weak to even talk, let alone counter or agree to the statement.

"I-I ne-never knew y-you l-liked this genre."

"Again Potter, you don't know many things about me." Malfoy muttered, and Harry nodded weakly in agreement.

"B-but I kind of l-liked Timothée. He was....uh....an interesting character." Harry said, and Malfoy almost choked on thin air at the red hue creeping up his cheeks. Malfoy didn't know what on heaven's sake came over him, when he found himself inching closer to the embarrassed boy. Harry's eyes widened in shock at their proximity and he stuttered, "Ma-Malfoy—" but was shut up by a 'shh' from the taller and just when their lips were centimetres apart, a sharp and continuous knock on the glass window, echoing through the almost empty house, tore them apart.

Harry fumbled, with his glasses and wobbled towards the window almost tripping. It was Pigwidgeon. Harry quickly opened the window and let the shivering bird inside the house. It handed over the letter to Harry from its beak and he opened the letter.

Hey mate,

hope you're better than me because Hermione decided to get my dad a telephone and she has been calling me, no, she's not talking to me yet, she's communicating through George every minute, until we complete our projects. How're you keeping up with Malfoy? He's not forcing anything on you, is he? If he is just send me a note and I'll go there to personally give him a piece of my mind.

It's cold here and George has been bothering me all morning. Somehow he made a pact with Hermione and trust me it's terrifying. They whisper-talk in that telephone–i swear i hate muggle things–about hoe they gonna make my life a living hell.

Anyways what's up with you?
Hope to see you soon!

Cheers,
Ron.

Harry folded the piece of paper neatly and tucked it inside his jeans pocket. He turned back, only to find Malfoy staring at him intensely, his grey eyes burning a hole through him. He felt weak in his knees, looking into the piercing gaze and stuttered something along the lines of "I'm going to bed," and he's sprinting towards the bedroom.

Sleep came easy to him when he rested his body on the soft blankets, a certain blonde haired boy filling up his thoughts. But when he woke up, and the clock showed 12:35, not so much. He left an exasperated sigh, coming down from the bed and tiptoed towards the window in the room. Feeling a bit warm, he slid the window open but closed it the next second, regretting his decision, when the cold air bit onto his bare hands. Harry wondered if he could go back to sleep again, but no matter how hard he tried, he didn't feel even an ounce of sleep coming along. His throat felt dry as he recalled not having water before falling asleep. He looked around, in search of water and then it caught his eyes. A vial stood on the floor just by Malfoy's head resting on the pillow. He couldn't see clearly in the dark, what exactly it was, but at least it was some kind of liquid. Malfoy wouldn't sleep with anything as dangerous as amortentia–as Harry believed–near his head.

Again, he tiptoed his way towards the small vial, taking hold of it and emptied its contents in his mouth. It tasted weird at first, and then he felt his eyes heavy, almost too hard to keep them open. He stumbled towards his bed, plopping down, and was in a deep slumber in seconds.

xxx

"What do I do? Please, Hermione. I'm scared. Harry is not showing any sign of waking up!" Malfoy said, his voice shaking.

When he woke up, he went downstairs to make breakfast, but when Harry didn't come even when it was 11, he went upstairs to find him sleeping yet. He tried waking him up, but Harry didn't budge. And the first thing he did was, telephone Hermione.

"Easy, it's okay, I'm here. And you're absolutely sure whole saying that he consumed the 'Draught of living Death'?" The girl questioned from the other end.

"Yes, I kept it beside me so that it is safe. I didn't think for once that Potter would actually drink it!" He wailed, frustration rising up.

"Oh. Ok. Look, do you know how to brew Wiggenweld Potion?" Hermione questioned.

"The antidote? Y-yes, do you—" he was cut off by her.

"Do it. It would take around two hours, and after you're done, call me again."

Before he could question any further, Hermione had hung up on him. Sometimes, he didn't get Hermione Granger, or more accurately, never.

One and a half hours later, thanks to Snape's rewritten instruction, Malfoy found himself looking tentatively at the thick liquid in the cauldron. Not letting even a second pass by, he called the bushy-haired girl again.

As soon as after the second ring, Hermione's voice came across. "Done? Good. Now all you have to is kiss him."

Malfoy choked on his spit. "I–what?"

"You heard me, kiss him." Hermione said, in the most natural way possible.

"Are you Granger?"

"Would you like a punch?"

"No please. But wait. Why should I kiss him? This in not sleeping beauty and he's not Aurora but I may be the prince." Malfoy chuckled, and a sigh was heard from the other end.

"You done? Now, and don't cut me off. All you have to do is apply some of that potion upon your lips and then kiss Harry. And you're good." She said. "And and you must kiss him deeply or the Wiggenweld won't work. Bye."

Again, before he could protest, Hermione hung up.

"I-but.....ok, let's do this." Malfoy took a deep breath and poured several drops in a vial. He went near the boy peacefully sleeping, as if he's going to wake up any moment. Then with extreme care, he used his forefinger to apply some of it over his rough lips.

"I....I can't do this....this...I...okay. It's just a kiss, that's all. Yeah, that's all." He mumbled, continuously trying to calm his palpitating heart.

Then, without letting his mind provide any kind of resistance, he swooned down, and pressed his lips over the soft ones. He moved slowly, his hand unconsciously moving up to cup the smaller boy's cheeks and just as Hermione said, he pressed deeper. Malfoy prodded his lips with his tongue and forcibly made them open up and as soon as they did, his tongue delved deeper into his hot caverns. At first, he was just making sure that Harry gets the most of the potion, and of course he did. But the next second, he wasn't kissing just for transferring the potion, he was relishing. Savouring the taste of him as the taste of Wiggenweld faded away, and he didn't let his mind think anymore as he focused on just kissing him. Tenderly, and lovingly. He didn't know where the emotion came from—yes, he knew that he was feeling something weird bubbling in his chest everytime Potter was near, but he didn't knew it was as strong as this. He didn't pull back, not that he wanted to because kissing Potter felt so damn good.

Suddenly he felt two hands creeping up his back, and pulling his body closer, deepening their kiss. Startled, he pulled back, only to find outPotter looking at him through half lidded eyes, a blown look in them.

"Y-you...uh...you're a-awake." He said awkwardly, not knowing where to rest his gaze, but they finally settled on his lips.

"I am. Why? You didn't want me to?" Harry asked, fixing his glasses.

"N-no, but you know, you took the Draught of living death, and I don't have any idea how but I had to wake you up and—" He started rambling, the words spilling out from his mouth like an open faucet.

"Wait. So that liquid I took was Draught of living Death?? What on.....who on their sane mind sleeps with such a dangerous potion beside their pillow?" Harry looked stunned, almost shocked to find out the truth.

"Well, it was for precautions lest anyone stole it."

"Stole....what? Who would steal such a thing?"

"Why? You. You drank it and now it's gone."

"You're calling me a thief?"

"Yes, you dipshit."

"What the....I swear—"

"You stole my heart." Draco said suddenly.

A minute of silence. Both of them looking dumbly at the other, unaware of the prominent blush forming on their cheeks. Harry broke the awkward silence by letting out a cough which was no less awkward, and tried to hide his smile.

"Well...that's...a bit...you know?" Harry mumbled, covering his face.

"Corny? I know." Malfoy smiled. "So now it's out in the open I guess. I like you."

"Surprise. I like you too."

And their lips slammed against each other again. More passionately this time. There were no barriers, no confusion, no doubts. It was just love. Raw, and real.

xxx

"Wait, you told him to kiss Harry?" George whispered in the telephone, as Ron gave him weird looks.

"Come on, even you could see, how they ogled each other in public. And it was obvious. Now if they're not going to do anything about their intense attraction towards each other, I had no other option than to interfere. And—" Hermione went on.

"Woah wait a second. They did? How come I never noticed?"

"Because you're stupid." Hermione deadpanned.

"That hurt. Never mind. So it was basically 'Sleeping Beauty Retold' ?" George giggled, a manly giggle.

"Well if you put it that way."

"Never thought Harry would go for him. I mean, I'm surprised." George said.

"I wouldn't have believed too if not Malfoy told me personally." Hermione said.

"He did?" George asked, surprised.

"Oh he did. Right in the beginning of this year."

FIN.

THAT'S SO CORNY I WANNA DIE OUT OF EMBARRASSMENT
AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MY FINGERS HURT???? OH GOD AND I'M SORRY FOR SUCH A LONG ASS CHAPTER

OH AND QUESTION: WHO IS THE UNIVERSAL TOP?

I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT THERE'LL BE A PART TWO BECAUSE I HAVEN'T SORTED MANY THINGS OUT