LOVE ME OR HATE ME ◦ H. POTTER, D. MALFOY

04.

Draco slowly pulled himself out of sleep, blearily blinking in the morning light. He didn't want to get up at all.

He stretched a bit, turning onto his side with his arm flopping over the side of the bed. It didn't look like Harry was awake yet. The only clue that there was another occupant in the room was the lump in the other bed, which slowly rose and fell.

Good. Gave Draco plenty of time to shower.

He finally climbed out of bed, wincing as his muscles popped and standing up. He grabbed his robes, in case Harry woke up before he came back out, and heading into the bathroom to take a hot shower.

Draco hissed in delight as the warm water ran over his skin. He could stay in here all day. But sadly, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts to get to after breakfast.

He stepped out of the bathroom after about fifteen minutes, frowning a bit as he saw that Harry was still asleep. Time to take matters into his own hands.

Draco stepped over to the side of the burgundy bed, giving the lump a few prods.

"Potter! Get up!" he hissed.

But the lump merely wriggled a bit before going still again.

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed a corner of the blanket, ripping it off and tossing it onto the floor.

Harry gave a sort of mewling cry, slowly blinking his eyes open.

"Whasgoinon?" he sleepily mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"You've got five minutes until breakfast, that's what's going on." Draco sneered.

That got Harry's attention. He sat up quickly, now fully alert and awake. "Did you say five minutes?!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't think I stuttered, Potter."

Harry was out of bed and into the bathroom in five seconds flat, washing up and tugging on his clothes. He darted out about a minute later, but he still looked like a wreck. His tie was hanging loosely around his neck, his shirt collar was turned up, and he was trying to tug a comb through his bed-head hair.

Draco sighed and walked over, snatching the comb from him. He then carefully tied Harry's tie, fixed the collar, and did a quick charm on his hair so it wasn't as messy.

"Um...thanks, I guess." Harry awkwardly said, giving a half-smile before grabbing his shoes and shoving them on.

"Don't mention it."

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Harry Potter was utterly and hopelessly distracted by Draco Malfoy. It was a serious problem.

He couldn't stop staring across the Great Hall at the blonde Slytherin, watching his every move. The way he snapped at Pansy if she got too close. The way he slapped butter down on his toast. The way he hid real laughter behind his hand, passing it off as a cough.

And the way he'd catch Harry staring, a smirk flitting across his face and wiggling his fingers in a sort of wave. And Harry would find himself blushing and duck his head down, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"Hello? Earth to Harry? I was asking you about the Quidditch match next week." Ron said, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

"Oh, erm...we'll totally win against Slytherin. Guaranteed." Harry said, giving a nod.

Ron nodded and went back to chattering away about different strategies.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, going back to Malfoy-watching. But Hermione, it seemed, wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily.