This is a slash story of the H/D variety. And I don't own any of Mrs. Rowling's characters, I just like to play with them sometimes…

The Dream Sequence

"Harry!"

"Harry!"

"Harry Potter! You wake up this instant! I will not tolerate your blatant attempt at ignoring me!"

Harry was struggling for consciousness. There was a light, pulsing unsteadily like a lightning bug in the distance. He also recognized a high pitched squealing noise. A noise he was fond of, although he wasn't exactly certain why he was so fond of it.

"If you don't wake up soon I will be forced to resort to unsavory measures that will be most unpleasant for you and your emotional well being!"

Just then he felt something; a brush of fingertips across the inside of his wrist. Wait. I'm back. And that's Draco Malfoy touching me. How odd.

To the surprise of Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter decided to obey his orders. Draco would tell you, if he could (bless him), that this had never happened before. Well, at least without using sex.

So, the first thing that Harry's gaze landed on after three days of nothing but darkness was the gaping mouth of Draco Malfoy. It pleased him greatly that he'd rendered the git speechless. He felt quite accomplished.

"You…You're awake."

"Er. It would appear so." His voice came out strained and he had to cough a bit to dislodge the unpleasant roughness that surrounded his throat.

Malfoy jumped up and retrieved a cup of water. There was a very cute bendy straw sticking out of the top. I love bendy straws. Malfoy held the cup up to his mouth and he thirsted upon the glorious ice water within. Once he'd drained the last drop he figured it was time to take in his surroundings.

"Uh. Could you help me sit up a bit?" Oh how the mighty have fallen, Harry thought to himself. Malfoy fiddled with some type of remote and his bed started to bend. Soon he found himself tilted slightly forwards.

Something is very wrong. The bed is mechanical. Which must mean…

"I'm in a muggle hospital." This realization perplexed Harry.

By the look on Malfoy's face it also perplexed him. "Muggle? What's that? You're in St. Thomas' Hospital in London. Harry I've been so worried." The desperation tinged with relief was evident enough to be believable.

All Malfoy received in return was a rather blank look, so he continued. "Do you remember what happened? You've been out for three days. Everyone's been worried sick. Hermione and your band of merry red heads are in the waiting room."

"The Weasley's?" The thought of seeing people that actually cared about him sent away some of his uneasiness about the situation.

"Yes. The Weasley's" Malfoy said the name with little to no contempt. How strange…

"Why aren't they here with me?" And why are you here? Harry wanted to add but didn't.

Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and looked disheveled, like he hadn't changed, slept or ate in days. "Well, they were giving me some alone time with my boyfriend. And I was getting tired of everyone telling me to go home and rest. Really, as if I could sleep while you're here, unconscious, bleeding and who knows what else."

It was Harry's turn to gape, open mouthed and startled beyond comprehension. "WHAT?!! WHA…?"

And then Harry's universe imploded.

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Living with Draco Malfoy was a pain in the ass. A pain in Harry's ass to be precise. He was whiny, demanding and downright sneaky.

Soon after he awoke from his supposed three day coma (allegedly educed by a hit on the head during a rather rough rugby match) he promptly told everyone that Malfoy was not his boyfriend, he was a wizard and that he wanted his wand. The look of dejection on Malfoy's face was enough to shut him up soon after. Not to mention all of the concerned "Is Harry a bit off in the head now?" looks from the Weasley's.

After a few days of trying to convince everyone that magic existed and that Harry needed to get back to his own universe or dimension or whatever the fuck you call it, he gave up. There was not use fighting it, really. So, he'd reluctantly gone back to the flat he (supposedly) shared with Malfoy.

Malfoy had all but fawned over him the first week, and luckily he got the drift about not doing, uh, sex things with Harry. Then one day Malfoy came home after work and promptly announced it was time for Harry to get off his arse and back to work. It was rather awkward when he had to ask where he worked; the conversation went a bit like this:

"Uh. I don't remember where I work."

"Oh honestly Harry I've been over this with you at least a dozen times. You own a book store down the street. Matilda is practically fraught with panic over what new books to order." There followed quite a bit of eye rolling and exasperated hand gestures on Malfoy's part and a quiet "Oh" from Harry.

It wasn't his fault Malfoy was easy to tune out. Everyday he would discuss the relationships of his co-workers at he pharmacy he worked at. If Harry had to hear "Joan was practically salivating over Bobby today. I say she'll pounce him by the end of the week" once more he planned to take off one of his socks and stuff it in Malfoy's mouth.

About a month after waking up in what Harry had started to call 'his own special hell' he found himself suffering from a bout of insomnia. Harry was a bit touched that Malfoy stayed up with him; at least he did for the first few nights. On the fourth night he was rather drowsy and fell asleep easily on the couch (as if Malfoy would let him have the bed). The same patter continued for about a week, until he eavesdropped on Malfoy discussing his 'progress' with Ron and Hermione. He had no shame as he leaned close to the bedroom door so he could hear the discussion in the living room of the flat.

"He seems to be doing better. I had to crush up some sleeping pills and put them in his mashed potatoes, he had a nasty bout of insomnia last week, but other than that he's getting on pretty well. I think he'd like to see more of the two of you and less of me…"

Hermione cut him off "Don't be silly. Harry loves you. He'll remember in time."

He heard Malfoy give a heavy sigh, "I hope so."

Harry almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He'd been drugged. Drugged. In his own home. Malfoy'd used his love of mashed potatoes against him. Bastard.

Harry had fumed over that for a good week, and he refused all of Malfoy's attempts a feeding him mashed potatoes.

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"So, how are you doing mate?" Ron had an inquisitive look on his face as he asked the question. Harry, Malfoy, Ron and Hermione were sitting at a both in the local Café, The Coffee Island, and to his annoyance Malfoy would not let go of his hand beneath the table.

"Oh, I'm fine." Which was the truth for the most part. He still missed magic and the days when Malfoy was a distant presence in his otherwise happy life. However, if he let himself admit it, life wasn't so bad. Malfoy seemed genuine in his love and affection, and Harry had never experienced the fierce kind of love that seemed to radiate off of Malfoy. Specifically for him. It was a bit much to take at times.

"Have you remembered anything Harry?" Hermione was following his 'progress' very closely.

Harry looked sideways at Malfoy and the hope in his cute…no, not cute grey eyes almost made him want to say he remembered. But he didn't. Because he couldn't and no one quite understood that.

"Erm. Well no, not really." Everyone except Harry sighed. Draco's hand tightened.

"It's alright mate. You seem pretty normal. Maybe a bit on edge but other than that you're practically back to your old self." Ron's smile was infectious, and soon they were all smiling and nodding.

Only Harry knew how hard it had really been for him to accept that all magic seemed to disappear and Malfoy turned out to be his boyfriend. 'A bit on edge' had taken a while to achieve.

Their mirth was interrupted by loud screaming. Harry's eyes looked past Ron and Hermione's heads towards the cash register where a tiny blond girl was in the midst of what appeared to be a panic attack with a side of screaming. On the other side of the counter was a man in all black, his face covered in a ski mask. A gun jutted out like an extension of his right hand.

The poor girl was screaming 'what do you want' over and over. Really. Once would've been enough.

"What do I want? I want all the money in the cash register and all of your coffee."

The girl quieted and stared. "Our…our coffee?"

The man all but hissed at her. "Yes! Coffee! I want all your coffee. For I am Voldemort coffee thief extraordinaire!"

The girl looked at him as if to say, 'we're dealing with a real nut job here'. "Uh, do you want the coffee in bean or liquid form?"

"Bean! You incompetent hussy!"

As Harry watched the exchange he instantly knew why he was here. Not just in The Coffee Island but why he was here, in this place with no magic. He needed to take down Voldemort. That was his job. His profession. He really wasn't surprised. He did feel a tad bitter though.

Ron, Hermione and Malfoy had all retreated under the table, calling for him to do the same. Malfoy had not let go of his hand and was incessantly tugging at it. Harry wished he could hide, but he knew better. He had to take action. So, like a true hero, he pried Malfoy's fingers off of his and stood. He walked with purpose towards Voldemort…the coffee thief.

He got within a few feet of the man in black before he was noticed. Voldemort sprang around, pointing the gun at Harry's face.

"Get back! Or I'll shoot!"

Harry smirked, "Well, you've never been able to do me any real harm before; I doubt this will turn out much different." Harry stepped closer.

"What are you talking about? You're crazy! I'll get you--" But before Voldemort could finish his sentence Harry punched him in the face. As he fell Harry plucked the gun from his hand.

And that's how Harry Potter defeated Voldemort…coffee thief extraordinaire.

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Later that night Harry, still in such a good mood from his triumph, told Malfoy he'd sleep in the bed with him that night.

"Really? Wonderful! I'll go get ready!" Malfoy bounced and skipped towards the bedroom.

What he was getting ready for Harry did not know. They were just going to be sleeping. In the same bed. Together. Maybe they would cuddle. But just maybe.

Harry found himself looking forward to it.

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Harry woke with a start. As he tried to get his bearings he noticed a pair of arms around his middle. Someone was spooning him from behind. No, not someone, Draco.

He noticed his wand on the bedside table. It'd been a dream. A nightmare really. He let out a sigh of relief. He was back where he belonged.