Good Intentions

Chapter 3: Baby Steps

When Draco woke up that morning, the sunshine was pouring in through the window. It was a pretty day outside, and right now he was so comfortable he considered drifting back to sleep but he was already up.

He yawned, and was about to stretch, when he realized that his right arm wouldn't move. He was about to scream in panic when he looked to his right, and simultaneously remembered that Malfoys did not scream. It just wasn't dignified. He took several deep breaths, trying to figure out how it had happened, but he had no memory about anything of the sort.

Somehow during the night, Harry had moved over to his bed, and they were a tangle of arms and legs. Harry had both of his arms wrapped around Draco's waist, resting comfortably at Draco's back, while Draco had an arm around Harry's waist, the other palm pressed flat against Harry's chest. Draco could only think, when in the hell during the night had this happened?

He looked down at the still sleeping Harry who was breathing in a slow deep rhythm. His eyelashes on the fair skin of his face made him look extremely innocent and child like. His ruffled hair splayed every which way was tickling Draco's right shoulder, which was what Harry's head was using as a pillow. He looks cute, Draco mused.

Draco was still trying to decide whether he should try and untangle from Harry or act like he was asleep and let Harry deal with it, when Harry groggily opened his eyes. He smiled slightly, "Hello."

Draco didn't know what to say. Obviously Harry hadn't realized the position they were both laying in. He thought it best to point it out. "Er, Harry, can I have my body back?" he mumbled.

"What?" Harry asked still half asleep. Then his eyes widened, "Oh!" He pulled his arms out of the embrace and shifted over so they were still close, but not touching. A slow blush was starting to spread over his face.

There was an awkward silence between the two. "Well," Draco said. "If we are going to have to shower together, we might as well get it over with."

"Right," Harry agreed. Without discussing it, they decided not to talk about how they woke up.

They both went to their trunks and got the clothes they needed, laying them out on their beds. They found towels in the bathroom closet and put them out beside the shower.

Both still only had their boxers on. Draco stepped into the shower still dressed, and started messing with the knobs, turning them this way and that, adjusting them to his satisfaction. Steaming hot water began to jet out of the showerheads. He quickly jumped out, avoiding getting wet. Harry jumped back, avoiding being knocked down by him. Draco then took a silent deep breath, and pulled down his boxers, kicked them over to the corner, and took a couple of steps toward the streaming water. He ignored Harry the whole time he was doing this, acting if he wasn't standing there, a mere two feet away.

"I know how amazingly sexy I am Potter, but I can't move any further until you stop staring at me and come closer," he drawled.

"I wasn't staring," Harry said indignantly, now stark naked, approaching the shower. "Just a little surprised that's all."

"I know, I know. Not everyone is as fortunate as I am," he told Harry while grinning and lifting his eyebrows suggestively.

A slow flush crept over Harry's face again. "You know that isn't what I meant," he mumbled. "Let's just get this over with."

"Ladies first," Draco beckoned. Harry mumbled something again, but went on ahead nevertheless.

"Thought you would see it my way," Draco beamed.

This couldn't possibly get any weirder, Harry thought. Draco Malfoy does not beam, especially at me.

After a quick shower, which seemed to take forever in Harry's opinion, they dressed quickly and headed down to have lunch. Things seemed to take so much more time when you were restricted by someone else and couldn't always do what you wanted.

"Ok," Harry said as they approached the Great Hall. "Here is the hardest part."

"Yes, I know. You had better prepare yourself. There is going to be a horde of angry fangirls trying to beat you to death with a stick in a fit of jealousy as soon as they find out about our predicament." He looked sideways at Harry. "You know, it isn't every day that someone gets the luxury of spending 24-7 with the Draco Malfoy." He continued to talk about himself, but Harry just rolled his eyes, blocking him out. He could really talk about himself when he set his mind to it. Though, Harry reasoned, I suppose this is better then the depressed Malfoy I saw earlier in the year...

"Are you listening to me?" Draco asked him; sounding frustrated that Harry hadn't been hanging on his every word.

"Of course I am, keep going," Harry said, going back to his own thoughts again.

"Yeah, so I thought on the next full moon we could cover ourselves in marmalade, go find a colony of fire ants, and do the sacred umbrella dance stark naked, while the fire ants eat us slowly, bit by bit." He looked sideways at Harry. "Sound good to you?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry replied absently. "Sounds great."

Draco rolled his eyes. "So where are we going to sit?" he said, going back to the original question. "'Cause I thought we would sit at the Slytherin table."

That got Harry's attention. "No way. I am definitely not going to sit with people who are mentally sharpening knives in my direction."

A pained look crossed Draco's face. "You insult me. You would sell us that short?" Draco shook his head sadly. "They are sharpening knives in your direction, not just mentally. I've taught them better than that.. they're always prepared for anything."

In spite of himself, Harry started laughing. "You know you're not all that bad when you don't want to be. Must be losing your edge."

"I don't know if I should be insulted by that, or take it as a compliment."

"Take it however you want," Harry said grinning. The Great Hall was sparsely populated when they arrived for lunch. That still didn't solve their seating problem though. "I guess we are going to have to eat at the table separated from everyone else," Harry reasoned. "I am not eating at the Slytherin table."

"And I'm most definitely not eating with Golden Boy's fan club. I do have a reputation to keep, I'll have you know."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "A reputation as what? The boy who bleaches his hair?"

Draco sputtered, stopping dead in his tracks, and yes he did actually sputter. "Harry Potter! That is the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me. That is low, even for you."

Harry was trying his best not to laugh, but it was difficult. Draco was very flustered, his Malfoy rules apparently forgotten. He looked almost cute.

Harry threw up his hands, surrendering. "Ok, ok. You win, you don't dye your hair."

"Thank you!" Draco stalked off towards their table, muttering all the way. Harry, still laughing, was right behind him, almost having to jog to keep up.

"Dye my hair? Can't believe he even thought... Absolutely disgusted... I suppose next he's going to tell me I'm not sexy... or that everyone in this school isn't in line to have a good shag with me..." He gracefully plopped down at the table, or as gracefully as you can plop and looked viciously at Harry who was sitting down across from him.

"Shepherds pie," Draco said to his golden plate, and instantly it appeared before him. Since it was only the two of them sitting at the small table, there wasn't any reason to put out mounds of unwanted and unneeded food.

"Meat loaf," Harry told the plate. He was starving. Yesterday had been draining, both emotionally and physically.

"Meat loaf?" Draco asked him, cocking an eyebrow questioningly.

"Why not?" Harry asked jovially, pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"It's so... plebeian. So very common place."

"Maybe I'm just a simple guy," Harry said, trying not to start attacking his food viciously from hunger. "Don't you like meat loaf?"

Draco scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Definitely not." Then Draco cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Any food that has the word 'meat' or 'loaf' in it, can't be good." Harry just shook his head, grinning to himself. Yep, definitely still has Malfoy in him.

Harry felt somewhat uncomfortable during lunch. First of all, more people were gradually entering the Great Hall, and the looks he and Draco were getting made him uneasy. Secondly, just like everything else he did, Draco had very proper eating manners. Every little cut of his meal or sip of pumpkin juice was done just so, with elegance that never seemed to falter. Harry found himself watching those refined habits more and more, fascinated, just waiting for him to mess up. He was hardly paying attention to his own meal.

Draco looked up. "What? Is there something on my face?" He had noticed Harry was looking at him strangely.

"Ahh, no," Harry said blushing slightly, going back to his own meal.

They hurriedly finished their meal, wanting to escape before the main population of the school arrived. Once they were back in their quarters, they both became bored very quickly, then Harry had an idea. He wasn't sure if he should show Draco... oh well, it couldn't hurt, he thought.

"You asleep?" Harry asked. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, but had pulled it next to the couch so that Draco could lie down.

Draco's eyes slowly opened, turning his head slightly towards Harry. "Well I almost was, until now," he said, but there wasn't any bitterness in his voice.

"Oh, well sorry about that. Anyway, what would you say about a trip to Hogsmeade?"

"Now?" he actually looked mildly curious.

"No, in a couple of months. Of course now, you dolt."

"Picky, picky," Draco mused sitting up. "Well, how do you suppose we do that? It isn't a Hogsmeade weekend you know."

"Let's go to the bedroom. I've got some things I need to show you," Harry said smiling. He had almost sounded like he was flirting. Oh dear God... he thought. I need to stop saying things like that.

***

It was so...bloody Gryffindor for Harry to trust him enough to show him the map, his dad's old cloak, and the secret entrance. They had hated each other passionately for almost seven years, and he had trusted him with all this.

They were near the one eyed statue now, and Harry pulled out the map to see if the coast was clear. Suddenly Harry swore. "Come here," he hissed, grabbing Draco by the wrist, and dragging him into a nearby empty classroom.

"What the hell was that about?" Draco asked him, massaging his wrist where Harry had jerked it. "We are invisible, nobody can see us. Remember?"

"Yeah I know, but Dumbledore can, and he is coming right by here any second." Harry hastily whispered. "Now be quiet."

Draco was about to say something back for being told to be quiet, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut.

They heard a pair of footsteps softly pass by, then confirming via the map that it was clear, they made their way onward to the statue of the one-eyed witch.

"Dissendium," Harry whispered, lightly tapping the hump with his wand. It opened up, allowing entrance for a fairly small person.

"Brilliant," Draco murmured as they began their journey down the dark tunnel.

"Now where exactly does this come out at?"

"The cellar below Honeydukes."

"And does anyone else know about this secret besides you?" Draco asked him.

"Well you do," Harry said stating the obvious in a very sarcastic voice. "And Ron and Hermione," he added.

Draco was a little shocked, although he would never show or admit it to anyone. Here Harry had shown him this when the only other people who he had told were his two best friends. For some reason he felt rather pleased about this, but he chose not to think about why.

"Err, what?" Draco asked him, realizing Harry had been talking while he had been thinking.

"Never mind," Harry said, shrugging. He was a little put out that Draco hadn't been listening to him. He was telling him about how Fred and George had given him the map back in their 3^rd year. "It wasn't important."

"If you say so," Draco said, wishing that he had been paying attention. It probably had been important.

"Here we are," Harry said as they arrived at the foot of the stairs leading up to the cellar. "Watch your head, we don't want that pretty natural blonde hair of yours to get all disheveled now do we?" He grinned, glancing over his shoulder at Draco. Then Harry cursed to himself. I really have got to stop saying things like that. This is crazy, why do I even think of things like that...

Finally, after what seemed like hours of climbing, they reached the top of the stairs and paused to listen. It was quiet, so Harry carefully pushed up on the secret door and clambered out. He held it open for Draco as he eloquently climbed out and then closed it back, making sure it was still concealed.

"Ok, where to first?" Harry asked, once they had sneaked out and were safely heading down the street.

"Well we could go to the Post Office first. I have an important letter I need to send," Draco said being somewhat haughtily.

"Whom to, if I may ask."

"No you may not," Draco said smirking at him. "But I may decide to tell you later."

Draco actually flashed him a quick grin, and Harry was a little taken a back. It was actually a. . . how could he describe it. . . friendly grin?

"Whatever," Harry said. "I need to write a quick letter and send it off too."

When they entered the Post Office, Harry went and got a piece of clean parchment and a quill from the front desk. He wrote a letter to Ron and Hermione explaining a few more things and sent it off. Periodically he had to push Draco away because he kept trying to read what Harry was writing. Two feet really didn't afford that much privacy.

"Ok, I'm done." Harry said.

"Well I would certainly hope so. That took just about, well, forever. I thought it was supposed to be a quick letter," Draco said sounding a bit petulant.

"It was. Now come on, I'm hungry."

***

Ron and Hermione were eating dinner later that evening when a single owl flew into the Great Hall. Surprisingly enough, it landed on Ron's shoulder, holding its leg out patiently to him.

He took the note and read it hurriedly. "Who's it from, Ron?" Hermione asked getting impatient. He didn't say anything, but instead handed her the letter.

Ron and Hermione

I just wanted to say hey and give you an update of things since it has been awhile since we've talked. Right now I'm in Hogsmeade with Draco, yes, I know that sounds crazy, but we got bored and decided to go. Anyway, here are how things went at the meeting last night...

Hermione's eyes continued to widen as she read the letter, until they got to the point where Ron was afraid they were going to burst.

"Interesting, eh?" Ron asked, his face scrunched up in disgust.

"Poor Harry," Hermione said.

"Poor Harry is right. Imagine having to constantly be near Malfoy. Eww." Ron did in fact look like he might be sick just at the thought. "I would rather be expelled. Yech."

"Oh Ron, grow up!" Hermione said on the brink of being hysterical. "We're never going to see Harry anymore. Or at least not without Malfoy being there." Hermione was looking even more distressed. Then she glared at Ron who was laughing.

"What IS so funny?" she demanded.

"I was just thinking how long is it going to take before the two of them beat each other into oblivion?"

***

"You're sure about that?" Professor McGonagall questioned Dumbledore for the third time that afternoon while they were discussing the situation of Harry and Draco in Dumbledore's office.

"I'm positive Minerva. I saw them both with my own eyes sneak off to Hogsmeade earlier this afternoon. If I'm not mistaken, they used the secret passage behind the one-eyed witch." Dumbledore eyed the disapproving professor across from him with mirth.

"Now are you sure you wouldn't care for a lemon drop?" he asked, offering her a dish that contained a handful of the sweets. "Over the years I've become quite fixated with them myself. One might say I have a proclivity for them."

His eyes were twinkling brighter than ever at her, and Professor McGonagall was becoming frustrated. "Are you sure this is a good idea? This could be a huge mistake I'll have you know."

"Well, I happen to think it's an excellent idea, but that's probably because I helped to come up with it. Funny how partial we can become to our own ideas sometimes, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked sounding devious.

Still not satisfied, she pursued on, ignoring that last question. "This could have disastrous effects on the two boys."

"Well," Dumbledore said, a lopsided smile forming on his lips, "I believe the effects of this will be anything but disastrous Minerva." His eyes were still twinkling. "I think I'll have myself another lemon drop. Are you positive you don't care for one?"

***