The Slytherin common room's green-tinted light cast eerie shadows across Draco's face as he paced back and forth, nursing his bruised nose. His two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, slouched on the leather couch with glazed expressions.
"The nerve of that mudbl-" Draco's rant cut short as something soft brushed against his shoulder. He whirled around, but saw nothing. "Did you feel that?"
Crabbe grunted. "Feel what?"
"Never mind." Draco touched his nose gingerly. "As I was saying, when my father hears about this-"
An invisible finger poked his side, making him yelp and jump sideways. "What in Merlin's name?"
"Maybe you hit your head too hard," Goyle suggested.
"I did not hit my head, you dolt. That Granger hit ME." Draco's voice rose an octave. "And now something's touching me!"
Another gentle brush, this time against his cheek. Draco's eyes widened as he felt warm breath near his ear.
"Are you going mental?" Crabbe asked.
"Both of you, out! NOW!" Draco pointed at the dormitory entrance.
"But-"
"OUT!"
His minions lumbered away, leaving Draco alone - or seemingly alone - in the common room. He spun in circles, arms outstretched.
"Whoever's doing this, I'll have you expelled! My father-"
A soft laugh interrupted him. Draco froze. "Potter?"
"Your father will what?" Harry's disembodied voice teased.
"You- how did you- this is the Slytherin common room!"
"Brilliant observation." Another poke to his ribs.
Draco swatted at the air. "Stop that! And take off that ridiculous cloak!"
"No, I don't think I will. It's much more fun watching you spin around like a confused puppy."
"I am NOT a puppy!" Draco's cheeks flushed pink. "What are you even doing here?"
"Checking on you. That was quite a punch."
"I don't need your concern, Potter!" Draco lunged toward Harry's voice, arms flailing. He crashed into an empty armchair.
"Careful there. Those chairs are expensive." Harry's laugh echoed from the opposite direction.
Draco scrambled up, straightening his robes. "When I catch you-"
"You'll what? Tell your father?" A cushion floated off the couch and bonked Draco on the head.
"Stop that!" He snatched at the cushion, missing completely. "This is assault!"
"Like when you tried to hex Hermione from behind?"
Another cushion sailed through the air. Draco ducked, but it curved and smacked the back of his head. "That's different! She's a- she's a-"
"Choose your next word carefully, Malfoy." The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
Draco backpedaled into a table, knocking over an ornate silver candlestick. "Fine! But she still shouldn't have hit me!"
"Actually, I thought it was brilliant." Harry's voice moved closer. "Your face when she connected - priceless."
"My nose could be broken!"
"It's not broken. Trust me, I know what broken noses look like."
Something tugged at Draco's perfectly styled hair. He swatted upward, spinning in place. "Don't touch my hair!"
"What's this? Product?" Harry's invisible fingers ruffled Draco's carefully gelled coiffure. "How many hours do you spend on this every morning?"
"Potter, I swear-" Draco's threat ended in an undignified squeak as he tripped over his own feet, landing face-first on a plush green rug.
"Graceful as ever, Malfoy."
Draco rolled over, spitting out carpet fibers. "At least I don't look like I styled my hair with a Whomping Willow!"
"No, you look like you dipped your head in a vat of Sleekeazy's." Something helped Draco up, then spun him around like a dance partner.
"Unhand me!" Draco stumbled, dizzy.
Draco steadied himself against a bookshelf, face flushed from the impromptu dance. "You're absolutely insufferable, Potter. Just wait until-"
Invisible lips pressed against his, cutting off his tirade. Draco's eyes flew wide, then fluttered shut. The kiss was soft, tentative - nothing like he'd imagined during those late nights when his mind wandered to forbidden thoughts.
Harry pulled back, leaving Draco swaying slightly. The common room fell silent except for their rapid breathing.
"Did you just-" Draco touched his lips.
"Maybe." Harry's voice had dropped to a whisper.
"But you hate me."
"Do I?"
"I- you-" Draco's usual eloquence failed him. "This doesn't change anything."
"Your lips say one thing, but your face says another." Harry's invisible hand brushed Draco's cheek.
"You're still insufferable." But Draco leaned into the touch.
The common room door creaked. Harry's hand vanished as Blaise Zabini strolled in, nose buried in a Potions textbook. He glanced up, eyebrow raised at Draco's disheveled appearance. "Talking to yourself?"
"Mind your business, Zabini." Draco smoothed his hair, eyes darting around the room for any sign of movement.
"What happened to your hair?" Blaise arched an eyebrow.
"Nothing! I mean-" Draco smoothed down his platinum locks. "Just trying a new style."
"Right." Blaise settled into an armchair, crossing his legs. "So about that Transfiguration homework-"
A warm breath tickled Draco's ear. "Your hair looks better messy."
Draco coughed, loud enough to cover Harry's whisper. "The homework. Yes. McGonagall's essay on-"
"You smell nice when you're flustered," Harry's voice ghosted across his neck.
"On cross-species switches," Draco continued, his voice climbing higher. "Fascinating stuff."
Blaise's forehead creased. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Perfect! Never better!" Draco shifted away from Harry's invisible presence, only to feel fingers trail down his spine. He jerked forward. "Just excited about... transforming... things."
"Wonder what would happen if I transformed your robes into something more interesting?" Harry murmured.
Heat flooded Draco's cheeks. "Actually, perhaps we should discuss this in the library!"
"We're already in the common room." Blaise pulled out his textbook. "And it's past curfew."
"Your blush is adorable," Harry whispered.
Draco stomped down hard, aiming for where he thought Harry's foot might be. His shoe met empty stone floor with a loud crack.
Blaise stared. "Did you just... stomp?"
"Foot cramp!" Draco hopped dramatically. "Terrible ache. Must be from Quidditch practice."
"We haven't had practice in a week."
"Delayed onset muscle... things." Draco winced as invisible fingers tickled his ribs. "Very common condition."
"I could help massage it better," Harry breathed into his ear.
Draco choked on air. "Actually, I should see Madam Pomfrey! Right now! Emergency situation!"
"The hospital wing is closed-"
"Then I'll sleep it off!" Draco backed toward the dormitory stairs. "Lots of rest, that's what they say! Good night!"
"It's barely eight o'clock-"
"Early to bed, early to rise!" Draco yelped as Harry pinched his side. "Makes a wizard healthy and- stop that- wise!"
"Are you sure you haven't been hexed?" Blaise stood, reaching for his wand.
"Never better!" Draco's voice cracked. "Just very tired and achey and- Potter, I swear to Merlin- I mean, proper sleep schedule! Very important!"
"I could join you," Harry whispered. "Help you relax."
"GOOD NIGHT!" Draco bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
"But your essay-" Blaise called after him.
"Tomorrow! Or never! Whatever works!" Draco's door slammed shut.