Draco slunk along the tiny corridor, feeling content and somewhat anxious. He looked around him and sighed rather loudly. He was on his way to speak to Harry. Draco wondered where the anxiety was coming from. He'd talked to Harry loads of times before, although most times it wasn't the friendliest of conversations. There was an issue regarding some work that had come up and he really preferred not talking to Harry at all, but, it had to be done. An image of Harry formed clear in his mind. Those sparkling green eyes... his soft, soft hair...
Snap out of it, you bastard! What is WITH you today?
He furrowed his brow, looked down at the ground, and quickened his pace. Getting this over with would be the easiest way out and Draco told himself it wasn't even that bad an issue (there had been much worse between the two), but he seemed to prefer the tension that was always there. He wasn't sure he knew how to talk properly to any sort of Gryffindor, but then again, didn't every Slytherin? They weren't known for being anything near even acquaintances with the Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs often joked about locking the two houses in a room and taking bets on the first to come out alive.
He was too deep in thought to notice the abrupt turn in his path and ran right into the wall. Squeaking in pain, Draco huffed in embarrassment. Pushing his hair out of his face, he squeezed past the cart and popped his head into the door that was his destination, and slightly ajar.

"Potter?" He called out sharply into the empty classroom.

"Draco!" A voice growled. "You shouldn't be here..." Hermione Granger stepped out of the doorway.
"Well excuse me if I'd like to do well in school." Draco crossed his arms and looked the other way.
"What does Harry Potter have to do with doing well in school?" She raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Piss off Granger, it's none of your buisness."
Hermione looked hurt. "Harry isn't here."
"Yes he is."
"No, he's not!" She said a little too crossly.
"Move it, Granger, before I have to force you. It's just a school issue."
"I think I can help more than Harry can." Muttered Hermione irritatedly. Draco silently agreed, but drew his wand.
"Move it, Mudblood!"
"Draco!" Harry came into view, his eyes narrowed. "Lay off Hermione, will you? What in hell are you doing here?"
"I... uh... I need to talk to you."
Harry Potter's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Draco Malfoy, coming to me for help!" He taunted.
"Shut it Potter!"
"I guess you don't need my help then!"

"As sad as it is to admit it, Potter, I do. I'll hex you if you don't help me!" He said nervously as Harry drew his wand.
"LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!" Yelled Harry. Draco's legs immediately locked and he toppled over. "No threats, Malfoy."
Harry couldn't hear the next thing Draco said, as it was muffled by the carpet. Harry could tell he wasn't at all happy, and released the jinx. Draco jumped up, his hair muffled.
"P-potter... how... how DARE you..." Draco fumbled for words.
"Follow me and I'll help you."
"Not if I jinx you first!"
"I'm not scared of you, Malfoy," said Harry. "Do you want my help, or not?"
"Not anymore. But I need it." Said Draco.
"Why can't one of your fellow Slytherins help?" Asked Harry suspiciously as Draco turned red.
"Um..." was all he could muster.
"You're such an insufferable prick. Follow me." Harry set off. Draco followed in his wake, seriously considering hexing him. But he needed Harry's help. He knew he could have gone to Pansy, or to someone in his own house, but for some reason he just had the insane feeling he needed Harry, and only Harry's help.
They reached a room with an elaborate door which Draco had never seen before. "It's the Gryffindor lounge." said Harry.
"Slytherins don't get a lounge." Muttered Draco scathingly. "What makes you losers so special?"
"Not sure," Said Harry. "Just wait here on the sofa, I need a shower."
"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter!"
"Just sit."
"Fine." Draco stepped in carefully and lay down on the small sofa, which was rather uncomfortable. Fidgeting around, he finally found a good (but awkward) position. He thought nonchalantly about various things, and as his eyes grew heavier and heavier he closed them. Yawning deeply, Draco sighed. The room smelled of vanilla, and eventually he dozed off to the soft sound of the rain pouring down just outside the stained-glass window.
Draco opened his eyes, only to slits, to the sound of a door slamming. Half asleep and not really thinking anything of it, he succumbed to sleep once more.
The next time Draco opened his eyes, it was to pure-as-can-be liquid-gold singing. He opened them wider and looked up through the beaded curtain leading into the bathroom and- further yet- into the mirror. He could see Harry's reflection. He watched Harry pour body wash into his hands and lather up. The thick steam from the bathroom was slowly filtering into the room. Draco told himself to look away, to not watch Harry, this was, after all, private. But Draco found himself looking Harry up and down, devouring him with his eyes. A hot and sweaty feeling was taking Draco over, spreading like an icy chill made of heat. He had a feeling it wasn't from the steam now engulfing the room and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest and, it felt like, in his small ears. Draco forced himself to shut his eyes, to break the seeming connection gluing his attention to the one and only Harry Potter.
After what seemed like an eternity but what must have really only been a few minutes, Draco heard the loud screech of the taps turning off. He didn't react. He lay very still, forcing himself to slow his breathing to create the image of being deep in slumber. He waited in anticipation as he heard a towel being flung off of a rack and, seconds later, the beads swish and clatter together at what must have been Harry entering the room. Hearing a sigh and a small cough, Draco riskily opened his eyes. There stood Harry- clean, handsome, and wrapped in only a bathrobe. He glared at Harry and was returned with a somewhat-puzzled look as he plopped himself down on the sofa next to Draco, who sat up abruptly.
"Will you put some clothes on, you git!" Draco decided to use insults to cover up his nervousness. He shuddered, but wasn't quite sure why. Why was he feeling like this? It was just Potter. Disgusting, goody-two-shoes Potter.
"You wanted my help." Harry simply blinked, picking at his nail polish. It was no secret Harry was gay, he was out and proud about it. "What did you want?"
Draco started to talk, but was immediately lost when he looked into Harry's crystal-like eyes. Harry gave him a pitying, yet weirded out look and changed the subject.
"Malfoy will you stop shaking, the couch is moving for Merlin's sake. What has you so nervous?"
Draco could picture how he looked, beads of sweat on his forehead with a bright, cherry-red face. At the thought he could feel his face go redder. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"I'm not being any different than usual." Harry snapped. Was that embarrassment glittering in his eyes?
"What did you want?"
"Um... just about the potions homework..." Draco said. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh never mind," said Draco miserably.
"Well, you'd better get going Draco."
"Did you just call me Draco?"
"I did."
"Why?" he growled.
"Why not, that's the question, isn't it?" Said Harry.
Why was Harry acting so weird? Why was Draco feeling so weird? There was definitely something odd going on.
Draco let out a long sigh, rather angry with himself. He shook his head, as a poor attempt to clear his mind. With a clammy hand he wiped his forehead and rolled over, deep in new thought.