Draco was a very smart young man. Although as much as he hated to admit it, he was definitely not as smart as Granger however. Draco was also a reserved, arrogant and haughty person as well. Well, until curiosity overtakes him. Which is exactly what happens when a random muggle television is introduced to him by none other than the spiteful Potter.
It happened on a Saturday during the Christmas holidays. Ron and Hermione had gone home to celebrate the occasion but Harry was held back in fear of the Dark Lord. The Dursley's didn't care, of course. Now, it should be noted that Dumbledore had given Harry a TV to watch on as Harry had become extremely obsessed with watching romantic sitcoms through his neighbours windows while staying at the Dursley's, but that's besides the point.
Draco was still at the castle as his parents had "business". Totally nothing to do with the Dark Lord of course. Absolutely not. So it was in the early afternoon, as Draco was browsing through the library, pitying himself at having to stay at this ghastly monstrosity of a school, even worse with Potter. Soon enough, he stumbled across as frenzied Potter, desperately trying to to get a television to work.
"My, my Scarhead what is that...contraption you are so worked up with?", sneered Draco.
"Malfoy, I don't have time to banter with you right now. I'm trying to get this television to work so I can watch a rerun of Friends okay?", sighed Harry.
"A what?"
"A television Malfoy. How would you not know- right. It's a muggle thing. You wouldn't understand."
This aroused Draco's curiosity to no end. He marched over to where Harry was fiddling with the TV and gave a long look at it.
"How does it work?"
"Ugh go away- what? Why would you want to know?"
Draco sniffed.
"Because...I- Whatever you prat just tell me how it works!"
"Whatever...So basically there's a button on this that turns this on and and you use this remote control to navigate it."
Draco peered suspiciously at the black block with multicoloured buttons on it.
"Tell me how you use it Potter."
Harry really didn't get why Malfoy suddenly became so intrigued by the television to even have a half decent conversation with his rival. His fascination with muggle contraptions reminded Harry a lot of Arthur Weasely. He supposed it was nice...like, there seemed to be no static tension crackling between them and he didn't seem like such a git. It just seemed so...peaceful. If only they could just interact like this all the time! Like friend-
"Potter! Scarhead! Earth to the Golden Boy! Are you going to tell me how it works or not?!"
"Actually, ignore that last cut off statement", thought Harry.
"Okay so look here, there are the numbers 0-9 on here in the centre. Different combinations of the numbers let you watch different shows. Here, take a look."
He pressed the numbers 29 on the remote, all while aiming it at the television. Up popped the Simpsons and Draco gazed at the screen in awe.
"They're just like pictures...!", whispered Draco, his eyes flitting between the squabbling cartoon characters in an expression which could only be described as adoration.
"Yeah, kind of. So the next button here, it controls the volume. You press the top to make it louder and..."
So the minutes passed by, and the minutes turned into hours. The early afternoon turned into late afternoon and the late afternoon turned into evening. Time had really flown by.
The unlikely pair walked down to the Great Hall and ate dinner together, all the while having a leisurely conversation about the 3 seasons of Friends they has binge watched that day. Professor McGonagall watch them with a ghost of a smile on her face, knowing the need to refrain from interfering. It was like a miracle that her "problem children" were talking without jeering at each other, much less eating at a table side by side.
After finishing dinner, Draco and Harry went into the Room of Requirement to watch more TV shows, the majority of them being romantic sitcoms.
It was late in the night and Draco had fallen asleep on Harry's shoulder, his blonde eyelashes fluttering as his chest moved up and down rhythmically.
Silently, Harry watched Draco, mulling over the events of the day. The more he thought about it, the more confused he grew. How come his arch enemy would suddenly be so willing to spend so much time with him? Heck, act so differently when they were in private? He couldn't be doing this to work for Voldemort could he?! Harry felt his stomach sink. What if Malfoy was really doing this in order to relay information to Voldemort?
"Merlins beard Harry! Maybe there's a chance that he isn't working for Voldemort? Perhaps us two can actually be friends!", thought Harry.
Friends. The word echoed in his mind. Friendsfriendsfriendsfriendsfriendsfriendsfriends.
It just seemed so much like a miracle, spending an entire day with your arch nemisis of seven years or so. Without even trying to hex each other even once. (Sure, Draco was a little hostile at first but he had never used his wand to threaten Harry.)
Harry was really confused now. A new type of feeling had settled into his chest. A warm fluttering feeling.
He scowled.
Whatever, he'd figure it out the next day, but for now, he lay down next to Draco and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the blonde's light breaths.
Fin.
