Harry Potter didn't care for Draco Malfoy. Not one bit. Sure, he'd spent so long watching Malfoy and trying to understand what he was thinking and feeling that he was able to read Malfoy better than most people could ever hope to, and maybe he felt a little warmth towards him when he did something like waiting for Harry to be ready before trading away the Resurrection Stone, and yes, he was interested in the Dreamless Sleep potion Malfoy was making, but that was only because Harry suffered from nightmares and wanted them to go away as soon as possible, nothing more.

Having spent the past seven years watching Malfoy's actions closely, analysing his every move, Harry was slightly concerned when Malfoy didn't show up to breakfast the day after he and Harry had retrieved the recipe for the Philosopher's Stone; when he brought it up to Hermione, however, she gave him that exasperated look she always did when he brought up Malfoy and said, "Harry, the war is over. He's not up to anything," and Harry nearly said that I don't suspect him of anything, I'm worried about him, until he realised that oh, Merlin, he was worried for the ferret-faced git. He determined not to even think about Malfoy the rest of the day; however he still noticed that Malfoy wasn't in classes, and he still reassured himself with the conclusion that Malfoy was just sick.

After a week, Malfoy still hadn't shown up for any classes or mealtimes, and Harry was starting to worry. Normally, when Malfoy got sick (which was a rare occurrence in itself) he would be so worried about the school he was missing he'd return before he was even healed enough to; for something to keep him from school for a week, it had to be something serious.

Harry's suspicions were confirmed when, on Friday, he overheard Parkinson and Zabini talking in quiet voices in the hallway about how Draco hasn't even left his room, is he alright? and I don't know, Pans, he's always in bed after me and up before the sun, and Well, is he even eating? and Probably not. Pans, you know how he gets when he's doing something like this, he doesn't even remember to eat. I'm not sure he's even sleeping.

When Harry heard this, he immediately decided he would go and check on Malfoy; after all, the last time he'd avoided his friends like this, he'd been working on getting Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Yes, this was what Harry was worried about; Harry was not concerned for Malfoy and his health.

He absolutely didn't know what Malfoy's eating habits were, and he definitely didn't steal a green apple from the kitchens to take down to Malfoy because it was the one thing Malfoy would be sure to eat- no, that was ridiculous, because Harry hadn't even once paid attention to what kind of apple Malfoy preferred. Yes, ridiculous.

"Hey, Malfoy, you want this apple? It's green," Harry said, entering the potions classroom Snape used to basically inhabit. He watched as Malfoy's head perked up at the mention of a green apple, and tossed the apple he was holding at Malfoy, trusting that Malfoy's Seeker reflexes would kick in. They did, and Malfoy caught the apple easily, taking a bite immediately.

A blissful smile crossed his face for a moment, and he said, "Thank you, Potter." Then he whirled, almost choking on his apple, and repeated, "Potter?!" incredulously.

"Yes, Malfoy. Hello. You know, you're worrying your friends, being down here all the time. Personally, I was worried you were turning into Snape," Harry replied. He consciously avoided thinking about the fact that he was worried about Malfoy's wellbeing and- nope, he would not think about that.

Malfoy turned back to his work. "I'm insulted, Potter. Do you really think I'd let my hair get into such a greasy state?"

Harry snorted. "I suppose not, posh git that you are. What are you doing down here?"

"What do you think, Potter? I'm growing the things I need for the Philosopher's stone. What else would I be doing?"

"I don't know. How's it going with growing stuff? Killed anything?"

"No, Potter, I am actually quite capable of keeping things alive; I have kept myself alive after all these years, after all, and I am rather difficult to maintain. These plants are all perfectly healthy, and they should be ready to add to the potion that'll make the Stone soon."

"Right. Oh, by the way, how come you're down here and not in classes?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "You're not in classes, either, Potter."

"Well- I'm down here, checking on you. You're growing plants. They can't need constant supervision, can they?"

In response, Malfoy stepped back from the table of plants; immediately, half of them began crying, a quarter started full-on screaming and lashing out with their leaves, and only the remaining quarter remained docile- as plants should, Harry thought. He slammed his hands over his ears and shouted for Malfoy to make it stop. Malfoy stepped forwards, next to the table, again, and the noise and thrashing immediately stopped.

"I stand corrected," Harry mumbled, rubbing his ears and glaring at the plants.

Malfoy smirked. "Yes. So, McGonagall gave me leave to attend the plants instead of attending lessons."

Harry scowled. He wanted to miss lessons. Then an idea crossed his mind. "Say, Malfoy," he began.

Immediately, Malfoy's guards went up; he visibly became more wary. "What, Potter?"

"Well- do you eat?"

"No, I starve. Yes, Potter, I eat."

"Right. Do you sleep?"

Malfoy hesitated before answering this time. "Yeah, I do..."

"How much?"

"...Not much."

Harry grinned victoriously. "Right. I have an idea. So, you don't like missing classes, do you?"

"No, I don't. Having people bring me their notes isn't anywhere near good enough."

"Oh, ask Hermione. She'll lend you hers, and she writes about as much as you do."

"She does? Oh, that's brilliant- wait, how do you know how much I write?"

Harry skipped over that. "Well, you don't like missing lessons. And I do like missing lessons. Especially the boring ones. And you love the boring ones."

"...Right. And where are you going with this?"

"So, I'm not brilliant at potions or herbology-"

"Yes, I know, I've been in your class for seven years, Potter."

"But I can follow instructions. So, I could look after the plants for, say, half the time, so you could sleep and attend some lessons and socialise and eat and you could spend the other half down here looking after them?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch? How do you benefit from this?"

"Well, aside from the potion itself, I get to miss some classes."

"...Right. And how do I know that you won't kill my plants? Even accidentally?"

Hm. That was a little trickier. "Well, what if you observed me for a couple days? Or even a week or so? Just until the plants are grown."

Malfoy frowned. It was a good offer, Harry knew; he hadn't been offered Slytherin for nothing. And Malfoy was visibly exhausted...

"Alright, Potter," he said at last. "It's a deal."