"Draco, you need to eat something!"

"You sound like my Mother," Draco scoffed.

"Well, you need to eat," Harry said donatativly.

"I will, Potter, I only just walked in."

Harry was slumped down with his head against Draco's thigh on the small two-seater lounge, with boxers and a baggy t-shirt. His hair messy as always and glasses lop-sided. Draco, on the other hand, was wearing a sharp suit, his hair was gelled and combed and on his feet he wore black socks and his shoes lying next to him.

Harry stayed at home today, doing nothing but watching TV and sleeping. He had been back from a particularly hard three-day case and the Ministry said he could have the day off. Draco had just come back from a busy day at work doing paperwork and sitting at a desk. He hadn't eaten anything since last night. Harry was worried something was wrong so he decided to bring up the subject. "Are you feeling well, Draco?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?" Draco answered without hesitation and a quick glance toward Harry's head on his thigh.

"Something is wrong, or you are being a plain asshole." Harry sighed. Draco looked down at Harry's face properly. Suddenly his stomach sunk, seeing Harry so ... Upset for no apparent reason. Draco did have something wrong and he felt awful. It happened last night, but he didn't want Harry worrying about him, he didn't need mothering.

"Maybe I am just being an asshole," Draco answered. Harry knew something was wrong. He could see through Draco, he saw the nervousness in his grey eyes and the quick darting glances. He sat up and looked at Draco. Looking nervously at Harry, Draco asked, "What?" A little more harsh than intended.

"Fine," Harry stuck his nose in the air and stood up.

"What is 'fine', Potter," Draco almost spat at Harry. "Why are you leaving?" He said more softly than the previous comment.

"Because I don't want to talk to an asshole who thinks his boyfriend won't notice when something is wrong!" Harry's voice rose to almost a yell. "Do you think I am stupid?"

"You sort of are," Draco shrugged. Harry huffed and walked upstairs to their bedroom. He dropped onto the bed. What was wrong with him? Did he really think Harry was stupid? And why was he hiding something from Harry? He sighed. He will wait until Draco comes to bed and then talk. Even though this comforted him slightly it made Harry worry. Why was he doing this? If he trusted Harry he would hide anything. Would he? Harry climbed under the covers fighting the urge to cry.

Meanwhile downstairs Draco quietly sobbed when he realised Harry most likely wouldn't be coming down and see him as the mess he is. He couldn't tell Harry what happened. Harry would pity him and Draco didn't want that. He was scared to be honest, not that he would admit that to anyone.

An hour past of deep thought and speculating when Draco decided to go have a shower and go to bed. Surely Harry was already asleep and he didn't want to discuss anything with him at the moment, just to go and sleep. Sleep, now, was a prison. A prison of dreams and nightmare that taunted him.

He walked up the small staircase and into the bathroom closing and locking the door behind him.

Harry was still awake. He lie in bed deep in thought. He still wondered whether Draco actually trusted him, when he heard the shower turn on. Draco was probably coming to bed soon. Harry wiped his red, puffy eyes and his runny nose and lay down again. Draco was always one to try and keep his feelings to himself, but Harry new how to unlock them.

Suddenly, the door opened. Harry had not noticed the shower turn off, he was too busy thinking to notice. Draco walked in wearing long pyjamas Harry had bought him last year. He trudged over to the bed where Harry was lying. Draco slipped into the right side of the bed and for a moment no one said, or did, anything. Then Draco turned to Harry so he was facing his back. He reached out to Harry but Harry seethed, "Don't touch me."

"Harry.." Draco started, before being cut off.

"Unless you are going to tell me what is wrong, then don't bother talking or touching me."

"Okay, then," Harry barely heard Draco mutter before he turned over so he was not looking at Harry.

As slumber clutched Draco he thought of last night and had disturbing thoughts of Him returning.

Draco fell. He looked behind him as a pale hand, even more pale than his own, reach out. Draco scrambled to his feet and ran, like a mouse from a cat he had no chance. Yet he still ran. The grounds of Hogwarts were full of fallen wizards, family and friends.

"Harry Potter is dead!" Shrieked a voice behind him. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw a body of the man he loved strewn across the floor as loud piercing laughs filled the air.

Tears stained his cheeks as blood stained his hands. The hand reached out to touch him...

Draco abruptly woke up with his forearm stinging and his face streaked with tears. He was gasping for breath and felt he couldn't breath. His stomach flipped and he felt sick. He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

Throwing up and sobbing over the toilet he couldn't gain control and he hated it. Not being able to gain control of himself is something that has always been a problem for Draco. Not being able to control his fate as a Death Eater, not controlling his emotions when he was supposed to hide them.

This was the same reoccurring dream he had just after the war and it resurfaced last night. Retching into the toilet again. His throut burned and eyes stung. The dark mark throbbed as well as his head. In the corner of his eye, he saw the light in the bedroom turn on and heard footsteps emerging.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. Great, he thought, now he is going to see me in the most vulnerable state possible.

"Draco..." he heard faintly coming from the room across the hall. "What is wro-" Harry stopped when he saw Draco. He was kneeling beside the toilet. He had large, dark bags under his red, swollen eyes, messy hair and his skin was shiny with sweat. His pyjamas stuck to his skin. "Baby..." Harry murmured softly approaching, Draco slowly. "Is this what has been wrong? Have you been feeling ill? You could have told me about that," Harry exclaimed.

"That isn't what is wrong," Draco replied glumly. "I just want to-to go back to bed," He continued through deep breaths and a violent throbbing in his head.

"Okay, just come to the tap with me and we will wash you face, okay?" Harry suggested grabbing Draco under the arms and lifting him when standing Draco leant on Harry for support.

Looking in the mirror he realised how terrible he looked. Harry rinsed his hands and rubbed Draco's face and down his neck. Cool water touched Draco's bare skin causing him to shiver. Harry grabbed the sides of Draco's face. "Tell me if you get up and something like this happens again, okay?" He brought Draco's face toward his own and kissed his nose softly, pulling away slowly and looking into his eyes Harry whispered softly, "You scared me."

Draco closed his eyes and mumbled, "Sure."

"I mean it Draco."

"Okay."

Harry slipped his arms around Draco's waist and put his head against his chest. "Let's get to bed." Harry said, before asking, "You want a glass of water?"

"Yes, yes please."

"Okay, I will go get the water and you get into bed." Letting go of Draco and walking toward the door.

"You're not my mother, Potter."

"I don't have to be your mother to care about you, Malfoy," Harry answered coldly from the doorway, "Now go to bed."

Malfoy left the bathroom without a word.