One Thing

Chapter 5

Suddenly deciding to go with his gutsy, irrational, impulsive inner voice that he seemed to be siding with all evening, Harry thought, Then again, we just may accomplish something, after all, and leaned forward as well.

When their lips met at last, Harry was shocked by the tingly, almost electric sensation he experienced. He suddenly became more aware of everything around him. He could smell Draco's pungent body scrub, and musky cologne. Over all, Harry would describe him as smelling very, clean. He was also very aware of the warmth he could feel coming from Draco's chest, which was surprisingly close. He could taste Draco's minty, toothpaste induced breath, feel the slight draft from the open door...Wait a moment. Slight draft from the open door?! Harry yanked himself away breathing heavily and looking terrified.

Oh no, he's doing it again, Draco thought miserably. Am I really that horrifying?! he mentally snapped. Just then Harry whirled around to see who had dared intrude upon his private snogging session with his sworn enemy in a public girls' toilet.

It was Neville Longbottom.

"Neville!" was all Harry could say. Draco, however, thought much quicker on his feet.

"Obliviate!" And with that, Neville's memory was gone. It was quickly followed by

"Somnoliens!" And with that, Neville was asleep.

"Don't look so scandalized, Potter. It's not like I dropped an Unforgivable or anything. He'll be fine. And whatever small glimpse he caught of either of us will be chalked up to having too much roast beef at supper." Draco hoisted the slumbering Neville over his shoulder, and said, "Which way is the Gryffindor common room?" All Harry could seem to do was point.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry whispered the password, whilst Draco rolled his eyes at the boy's gaucherie. As the painting swung open, he looked around favorably, and then proceeded up the nearest staircase.

"You don't want to be doing-" Draco's feet slipped underneath him and he slid to the bottom, a very inert Neville squarely on top of him.

"-that."

"Gee, thanks for the warning, Potter, it's very much appreciated." Harry winced.

"Sorry," he mumbled, bending over and picking Neville up and holding him lengthwise across his arms. He headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitories, and looked over his shoulder at Draco. "I think I can handle is from here, Draco," he said as he turned back to his task.

"What?" Draco asked indignantly. Harry looked puzzled. "No 'Good Night' kiss??" He feigned mortal offense.

"Oh, of course," Harry mumbled, embarrassed, blushing profusely at the same time. He turned round, and Draco met him on the stairs. Draco was strongly reminded of the Balcony Scene of Romeo and Juliet, but dismissed it immediately. He leaned over and gave Harry a small kiss on the lips, (over Neville's lightly snoring form,) said, "Good night," and turned to leave. It was a long time before Harry could turn and make his way to bed, too.

Chapter 6

"Harry! Wake! UP!!" Harry woke to a thump in the face. He opened his eyes and saw red. He pulled the pillow off of his face.

"Ugh. FINE!" Mr. Potter was in a snappy mood due to sleep deprivation, combined with the events of the previous day. Oh! With a jolt, he fully remembered the all of the events of the previous day. Ron was stunned as Harry suddenly sat straight up, grinning like mad.

"Well what are we doing sitting around? Let's go," and then he was gone, bounding down the stairs. Ron walked to the bathroom, because he still had a mouth full of toothpaste.

* * * * * *

"All right, all right," Draco grumbled, snatching at the golden orb flitting in front of his face. His father had considered it amusing to get him an alarm that he had to catch to disable. "Oh yes, how very bloody humourous.," he muttered to no one in particular. As he was Head Boy, he had his own room, and therefore, no roommates. Not that if he had, he'd consider conversing with them, or vise versa. No one really talked to him unless they needed something, and even then it was rare. For some reason, this didn't really bother him much. Perhaps it was because no one had ever really talked to him at home, save the house elves he had made friends with when he was small, until his father had put a stop to it, punishing both Dobby and him, telling him that it "wasn't natural."

His father was always saying that; always harping on about things that weren't "natural." Draco mentally snorted. If he only knew. Something about this thrilled him. The fact that he was deliberately disobeying his father, (not that it was his choice, but to his father it would be,) delighted him. In some ways, he thought of Lucius finding out what his son was up to at school overjoyed him. Enough reminiscing over Daddy. He was late for breakfast. No time to wash up now, he would have to wait until he got back.

Which would be after the meeting with Dumbledore. Cringing at the thought of attending a meeting with the headmaster unkempt, Draco considered being late to breakfast to get a quick shower, but when he saw the clock, and noticed that breakfast would soon be over, he dashed out the door, for once not looking in the mirror at all before he left.

As he reached the entrance hall, he was at a full run.

THUD.

Unfortunately, so was Harry Potter. They both landed on the floor with an "oomph," Harry on top of Draco. He planted his hands on either side of Draco's head and pushed himself up a bit, so he could take a look at just who he had run into, late as he was. He squinted, trying to make out who it was. This was no easy task, considering his lack of glasses. Judging by the platinum hair and fair complexion, (which, at the moment, was tinted bright pink,)...

"Hello, Draco." Harry suddenly felt shy. Draco found this odd, given their current position. He smirked.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. You know, as much as I'm enjoying this startling turn of events, I think, perhaps, that it wouldn't be the most appropriate deportment for a passing faculty member to find us in."

Harry's face turned bright red at this, and he began to stutter, "I didn't- I wasn't-"

"Relax, Potter, I know you didn't mean anything lewd." He sounded a bit disappointed at this. "But, please, move. I'm having difficulty breathing."

"Of course!" Harry jumped up, dusting himself off, just as Ron came strolling around the corner, whistling a tune off key. He looked at the two boys in front of him and gave Harry a questioning look.

"You all right, mate?" Harry nodded quickly, and Ron walked through the double doors. He was in so much of a rush that he missed the boys' flustered states.

The students in the Great Hall didn't, though. As soon as they walked through the doors, they knew they'd made a mistake. Not only were they late, walking in together, civilly, but they were also both wearing their pajamas, mussed hair, and identical expressions; somewhere between shocked and horribly embarrassed. Of course, most people just assumed that they had been fighting in the corridor, but some of them, particularly the Ravenclaws, had their theories and suspicions. Particularly as that wouldn't explain the pajamas, or the mortified expressions. But no one commented on it, as the two boys tried to get to their tables, but since Draco was on the right, and Harry was on the left, this presented a problem. They ran into one another, again, and halted. Harry stepped to his left, and Draco took one in the same direction.

"Oh for Christ's sake, Potter. It's not Arithmancy." Harry tried his best not to be hurt by the harshness in Draco's voice. The blonde noticed this, but being by this point extremely weary of making a spectacle of himself, grabbed Harry by the shoulders, moved him two paces to the right, and proceeded to stride past him, cool and confident as you please.

As he passed, however, he whispered, "Nice jammies, Potter," and gave him a little pinch on the side. Harry, being quite ticklish, gave a rather girlish squeal and jumped. Draco couldn't help snickering a bit on his way to the Slytherin table