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Draco Malfoy had kissed him today. Strange. Harry guessed he’d expected a bit more. Wasn’t that kiss connecting the bond thing? So shouldn’t it have been…somewhat special? But it had been just a kiss and had felt exactly like one. Now, Harry would be the first to admit that he was no expert in the field if one could call it that) of kissing. After all, his first, and regrettably only, kiss with someone who wasn’t “family” was with Cho…and that had not been the most pleasant of things. Malfoy had obviously a bit more practice than Cho… scratch that, a whole lot more practice, as Malfoy had obviously known exactly what he was doing. And, surprisingly, with very pleasant, if unexpected, results. Which really was the root of the matter. Harry had enjoyed it…well, until reality came crashing down and he remembered that he was kissing Draco Malfoy which kind of took away some pleasant factors. But if he momentarily forgot that it had been Draco Malfoy kissing him, and just concentrated on how the kiss itself felt…he wouldn’t mind doing it again, and maybe…a bit more often. Of course, being that it had been Draco Malfoy kissing him, Harry doubted very much that the experience would ever repeat itself, and he guessed that he shouldn’t want it too…but still…

And with that Harry decided that he was over-analyzing way too much. He hated Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter. And that was that. So he was an adolescent and adolescents (along with most of the rest of the population) enjoy kissing when it’s done well, so what? That did nothing to change the fact that Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter and vice versa, and that fact would remain until the end of time itself.

And with that, Harry Potter had joined Draco Malfoy on the banks of Denial, but had been very careful to build his housing of choice on the opposite side of the river, away from Draco’s manor because they wouldn’t want to be neighbors…no not at all.

Chapter 11: Settling In?

Dinner, which was normally a mostly cheerful and looked forward to event (by the single fact that food was served), was not so cheerful for four people on this night. These four people were: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Draco Malfoy.

Draco was enjoying the last part of his day off (owing to the fact that he was still “recovering” from his near death experience, which by now had been pushed to the farthest reaches of his mind) eating dinner while sitting on his bed in his room. The only bad thing— which had therefore thrown him into this category with three others whom he would never want to be listed with in any way shape or form unless it was a list of people who hated each other—was the seemingly unobtrusive addition to his bedroom. Well, to some people it was seemingly unobtrusive…yes, some people who were blind that is. Another bed had been “graciously” added to his own bedroom, not three feet from his own emerald and ebony bed. The house elves had added it, without his permission he might add, to his bedroom while he had been engaged in his Potions homework (which Harry had in fact not bothered to bring him; Snape had done so instead) in the other room of his “dormitory”, which he personally had dubbed his “study”. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he unknowingly had walked back into his room in order to grab another Potions reference book. Somehow, looking at this…thing made the whole situation much more real.

But Draco was recovering from this situation, he really was. In fact, he prided himself on how well he was adjusting in the space of time that it took to eat one meal. As he’d, in a way, promised Harry, the boy’s bed was not Slytherin colored. It was black and red. Not that garishly and, in Draco’s humble opinion, tacky red that adorned everything Gryffindor, but a subtle blood red. It was actually a nice addition that accented the color scheme of the room…which was chiefly black, a color that was fast becoming Draco’s favorite color for reasons that he hadn’t quite yet sat down and thought about. Maybe he should…that would certainly get his mind off the whole Potter subject…

The other three in the category of having-a-not-so-cheerful-dinner were sitting in the Great Hall with other students of their house, wondering exactly what was really done in situations like this one. Harry was just trying to recover from the slight nausea that was setting in because he’d just realized that his trunk was no longer in the dormitory that had been his home-away-from-home (if you could call his real “home” by that name). He would be rooming, as in sharing living space, with Draco Malfoy. But that wasn’t the real nauseating part. For some strange reason, he didn’t mind as much as he thought he should.

Ron and Hermione were wondering what to say in the gap left by Harry’s contemplative silence. What did one say to a friend that was going through something like this? Of course, what, at the basic level, they might want to do would not be the right answer. And they both knew it. Ron spewing about how much he hated Draco Malfoy would not change the fact that Harry now had to pretty much live with the boy, and Hermione asking about a hundred times if Harry was okay wouldn’t do much more than Ron’s spewing. So they were also silent. One almost had to thank Ginny, who like most everyone else in the entire school (barring several teachers, one parent, and one other student) didn’t know about this predicament, when she asked in a low voice at Harry’s elbow:

“Harry, when is the next DA meeting?”

Harry blinked, and then latched on to this safe and relatively Draco-free subject. “What?”

“We haven’t had a meeting in about a week. We’re wondering when the next one will be.”

That much was true. They’d had only two or three meetings before the whole non- Draco-free subject came up, and that had been a while ago.

Ron also latched onto the idea. “Are you doing anything tonight Harry? We could have it tonight.”

“Ron—” Hermione was about to admonish Ron for even suggesting such a thing, as the two boys hadn’t even looked at the newest Potions assignment, not to mention their other subjects which were either half-done or not started at all. Then she caught the look in Ron’s eye, and more importantly, the underlying idea of this impromptu meeting, and her tone of voice changed drastically. “—that’s a great idea! How about it, Harry?”

Harry shrugged, completely missing the underlying effect that if they had a meeting he could put off spending the evening with Draco Malfoy. “Sure,” came the reply.

“Good. Ginny and I will spread it around. How about in…” Hermione paused to consult the time, “…an hour? Will that be enough time?”