Sleeping Cap

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for this completely ridiculous story.

AN: I have written many things on this site under another name, but this is my first foray into the HP world. This is written from Harry's point of view and I hope I kept them mostly in character, at least this time. As I am mostly a slash writer I'll say this could be considered pre-slash, but not necessarily.

There I was minding my own business, happily daydreaming on my bed, until Malfoy stormed out of the shower. Stupid git. Why he had to sound like a herd of stampeding hippogriffs, I had no idea, but I was annoyed. It wasn't like I planned for us to be roommates in our year back at Hogwarts. The war was over and as no one volunteered to share a room with him, I got stuck with him. Ron had a fit when he heard we wouldn't be sharing a room anymore and there were only two people allowed per room. When Head Mistress MacGonagall asked if he would sacrifice himself and share with Malfoy he just gave me a guilty expression and told her no. She sighed in clear relief. The two of them together would be worse than the two of us.

Malfoy was still stomping around making my life miserable. Extremely irritated, I sat up and snapped, "Could you please stop that? It's not as if I wanted to share with you either."

Malfoy turned around to retort and I noticed he had towel on, holding it together with one hand, showing off the scar that I gave him. He glared at me and pointed to the scar on his chest, huffing, "I can't believe I have to share a room with the one person that actually tried to kill me and nearly succeeded."

Flushing, I looked away and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"What was that, Potter? With an apology like that we'll be the best of friends, lovers even," Malfoy scoffed at my idiocy.

I didn't know why I thought I could apologize for nearly killing someone, much less like that. That was when I remembered I saved the stupid git's life in that fire. "I saved your life once, Malfoy, after that, so can we just drop it?"

"So you did," Malfoy stated, mollified for the time being. He turned away from me and started pulling out clothes for bed and putting them on. "Potter, must you stare at me while I'm dressing?"

"What? No," I denied without realizing I had been staring. Then Malfoy did something weird, even for him. He put something on his head I had only seen old muggle women wear. I tried to choke back the laughter that was coming to no avail. Malfoy looked like he had a giant mushroom on his head. The site was so incongruous to the rest of the way he was that I couldn't stop laughing and pointing at his head.

"Potter, what's the matter with you?" Malfoy drawled, arms folded across his chest. This time he wasn't glaring, but he looked exasperated and confused.

"What is that? On... On... your... head..." I sputtered out finally.

"Potter, you imbecile, that's a silk sleeping cap," he proclaimed, assuming that I didn't know what it was.

"I know what it is, Malfoy. My question is why are you wearing it," I sniggered.

"Well, Potter, if you must know, when a person wants to keep all their hair and have it look good they do what they have to to make it look good. Something I say you were never taught," he eyed my hair in disdain as he spoke to me as if I was completely stupid.

"Why that... that... thing? Don't they have charms for that?" I asked, still trying to control his guffaws.

"Of course they do, but they are only temporary and are more like a glamour. In times of stress they will fall and everyone will see your split ends," he told me quite seriously.

"Split ends? Oh, and you wouldn't want anyone to see your split ends, what with being surrounded mostly by death eaters and enemies for the last few years," I said, completely deadpan.

Malfoy snorted at me, and declared, "One should always look good, no matter what situation they find themselves in."

Grinning, I knew I had him. "Really? Then shouldn't you look good right now? I'm your nemesis, and you're sleeping in the same room as me. Shouldn't I be given the courtesy of you looking good right now if you truly believe that. You know, outdo your enemies and all that?"

Malfoy gaped at me, and tried to find an answer for that. "Well... I suppose I should, but I would look worse in the morning without it," he explained.

Shaking my head, I asked, "Why don't you just sleep on silk sheets then?"

Gasping at me, he pointed to his silk pajamas and declared, "They are too slippery, I would slide right out of bed."

Rolling my eyes at him, I couldn't help myself and asked, "What kind of sheets do you sleep on then? Surely not the school issued cotton ones."

"Merlin, no. My sheets are 2000 count Egyptian cotton sown by elves, I'll have you know," Malfoy confessed in one of the snootiest tones I had ever heard, even from him. I had never heard there was any such thing as 2000 thread count sheets anywhere, but what did I know? I didn't grow up as wealthy as him or in the magical world.

"Oh, of course they are," I agreed and rolled my eyes. "But what's stopping you from transfiguring the pillowcase silk? Then you wouldn't have to wear that ridiculous thing on your head and you would get less wrinkles," I gasped out as I widened my eyes and touched my face. Malfoy was really too much fun to tease. He snorted at me and tried to hide his laughter, but it wasn't working very well as the more he held it in the redder he blushed.

"Hmm... you may be on to something there, Potter," he agreed and pointed his wand at my bed. Instantly the sheets under my hands were a much softer cotton than I ever thought possible. They felt smooth like butter. I turned to see the pillowcase as well and indeed he had transfigured it silk.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, both scowling as I was upset he had changed anything of mine, and in awe at the softness of it all. He chuckled at the odd expression I was making.

"It wouldn't kill you to take some of your own advice and combined with mine, it is truly excellent. If we are ever going to be friends I don't want you to look like a cretin," he defended.

Deciding it was easier to just accept than to argue, I groused, wanting to be both angry and happy at the backhanded compliment. "Well... okay, but next time warn a bloke. I almost thought you were going to change my pajamas too."

Malfoy gave me a mischievous look and conceded, "All right, you asked for it," right before transfiguring my pajamas into some that looked exactly like his, and altering it to the right size. "Much better," he declared, happily mentally patting himself on the back.

Rolling my eyes, I just flopped back onto the bed and sighed in enjoyment. Even if I thought no one needed the finer things in life they sure were nice.

Turning over in bed, I saw Malfoy transfiguring his own pillowcase and swiping the cap off his head. He turned back to the mirror and stated, "Now I look good." Meeting my eyes in the mirror he said, "You'll do." That was the most I thought he could say when he really meant we could get along and maybe even be friends.

Malfoy climbed into bed and whispered, "Nox," and all the lights went out. "Goodnight, Harry."

Smiling in the darkness, I replied, "Goodnight, Draco." Maybe sharing a room with him wouldn't be so bad in the end.