Malfoy had been asleep for the past eleven hours. Harry had originally stayed up to watch him twitch and whimper in his sleep (he couldn't tell if he was worried for the boy or if he simply wanted to watch him freak out) , but drowsiness soon overtook him and he had fallen into a slumber as well at the bedside.
Potter was sleeping quite peacefully for several good hours before his dreaming was abruptly and unceremoniously ended. He was awoken suddenly by a lot of desperate flailing and loud, miserable protests—but mostly it was an arm in his face that successfully brought him back into reality.
Harry started, shocked out of his wits for several long seconds before the realization that a blond-haired boy was the cause of all the commotion. Having forgotten in his slumber much about the previous night, this was quite the awkward moment until everything came back to him in an awful flash. A half-asleep Slytherin was in his very bed, jostling about terribly and causing quite a disquieting ruckus.
"And here I was hoping this would all have been a nightmare…" he moaned. With that, he reached for the rapidly moving arms of his patient and pinned them down, hoping that that would calm the boy. Unfortunately, it did just the opposite.
"No. No! Stop it! Stop…!" Malfoy shrieked, whipping his arms fervently in attempts to be free of his captor. Harry was shocked once more, and let go, allowing the frightened boy to scramble away and knock his head painfully upon the wall. At once, Draco snapped fully awake, panting and curling tightly into a ball. He looked around with wide and wild eyes and suddenly Harry caught his attention.
He once more shrunk backward in surprise as Harry (shaken with confusion and, he must admit, guilt a little bit of guilt) managed to say, "It's alright, Malfoy. You're alright."
Malfoy flinched as he felt the pain of his recent injuries reopening. but the other boy's voice soothed him a little. He looked down and then up again, forcing himself to gain control of his mind once more. Despite what he's been through, what he most wanted was to have control of himself. Unfortunately, that was hardly an easy option at this point.
"Sorry," Draco apologized in a startled, but nevertheless sincere, way. Harry's surprised look didn't falter for a second—why, it may have become more incredulous—as he took in the sound of the single strangest word Malfoy had ever uttered. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince, never apologized. The world must be ending, he thought.
"…What?" Malfoy looked unsure of himself.
"Umm, nothing. Just, whatever happened to you," he sat down once again on the chair beside the bed, "changed you…I guess." He didn't know what else to say. Honestly, he was dumbfounded by a Malfoy so shaken up.
"But I guess that happens when…" he motioned to Draco, but more precisely at his bandaged body.
Draco looked down for the first time, seeing himself bandaged made him smile genuinely in a relieved way that vicariously made Harry a little happy, too. But then his focus switched to something rather embarrassing. He was in only his skivvies! In front of Harry Potter, in his very bed, he had nothing on but a pair of boxers! And he could tell by the lack of blood stains that they weren't his own.
Quickly, he shielded himself from Potter's view with the covers and blushed ever so slightly. The boy sitting in front of him couldn't help but giggle at this.
"It's fine, you know! Nothing I haven't seen before." Draco's blush deepened, but he didn't feel like arguing. Instead, he hurriedly switched the topic.
"Have you…been sitting here while I was asleep?" Harry stopped his laughing, but he didn't look stern as expected. He propped his elbows up on his knees and rested his chin on his hands.
"What did you suppose I'd do? You're hurt pretty bad. I had to keep an eye on you."
"It's not so bad," the boy retorted somewhat quietly, hoping still to defend his pride, "I mean, there were only a couple fresh wounds." He smiled somewhat confidently up at Harry, who was disturbed not only because Draco had smiled at him, but also because the boy apparently did not seem to understand the weight of the situation.
"Only a couple of fresh wounds, my arse! And they were damn awful, too! And don't smile at me like that; if it weren't for my help after you apparated into my room, causing a pretty decent mess and leaving me a bloody undesirable responsibility on me to patch your sorry arse up, you'd be in pretty rough shape right now!" He motioned to the blood stains still in the carpet, "And how do you suppose I'll clean these up now that they're all dried in? The Dursleys come home this afternoon, and don't even get me started on how screwed I would've been if you'd come tumbling in while they were here!"
Malfoy winced at this, creeping as far back as he could on the bed. Harry's words stung pretty harshly, and although he hated it, he could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Harry looked at him for a while, daring him to shout back, but he was slightly disappointed when he did not. When Malfoy spoke, it nearly struck him in the heart.
He looked down nervously and then brought his eyes up so he could see Harry's irritated face.
"You were the only one I could think of…" the boy muttered after a short time of nervous silence, "I…I needed help." A couple tears started falling as he fumbled with his words, "I…you…you were the only one I could…I'm sorry."
As the blond shivered and buried his face shamefully in Harry's bedclothes, he looked like a scared child. Immediately Harry felt a little cruel. But how was he supposed to know that the Malfoy kid would cry, for Christ's sake!
Putting his face in his hands, he cursed himself for doing that, even though Malfoy deserved it-especially when taking into account all of his past transgressions when it came to Harry, Ron and Hermione. He lifted his head and looked curiously and pitifully at the boy who was once his tormentor with his pale green eyes.
Harry yanked the covers down from Draco's grasp and the boy, whose tears had subsided into deep, shaky breaths, flinched at the action but didn't even look up.
"Malfoy, look at me," Harry ordered. He didn't know what he was going to say yet. Half of him wanted to comfort the kid and the other half was so glad that the tables had turned and wanted nothing more than to make his life a living hell and give the git a good slap.
Draco's eyes cautiously lifted upward. "Whatever's gotten into you, it's weird. I'm starting to wonder when you'll snap out of it and jump me." Malfoy's eyes grew sad with a slight angry flicker. He knew that he had been pretty awful in the past, but Harry didn't know the half of what he'd gone through. There might be no way for him to earn his trust now, but he wanted to try, anyway. He felt safety near Harry after he'd almost forgotten what safety felt like, and he hated how stupidly emotional he'd become, but everything was different now...
"You know I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. But I won't have you crying in my bed, either."
"Listen, Harry, I—" He stopped there, realizing he had called the boy by his first name.
"Getting a little chummy there, eh, Malfoy? Think that'll soften me up?" He scoffed, despite his slowly emerging soft spot for the kid.
"N-no, I just wa—"
"Even the stuttering, huh? Got a couple tricks up your sleeve. You're daft if you think that'll make me want to help you any-"
"No, Potter, please listen!" Harry did not move or speak. He just sat there, staring, with his arms folded.
"You don't know…okay? I don't want to be mean like that any more. I never really wanted to. You don't know anything about me. I don't know anything about you, either, but please, give me a chance..."
His voice trailed off at the end. He looked so sad and conflicted, and it almost hurt to say those words. Last night he had at least tried to act like the old Malfoy, but he wanted to stop all that now, before it happened on its own, and before it cost him his one and only lifeline.
Not necessarily knowing what to think, Harry rested his cheek on his palm once more, looking Draco up and down. Then he got up and walked out of the room. Draco choked back a small sob and collapsed on the bed. He faced the wall and curled up, fighting the stinging sensation of his myriad wounds.
Steps could be heard coming up the stairs. The blond on the bed craned his neck with difficulty and managed to see Harry with a bucket and sponge and spot cleaner in his hands.
Draco felt around for his wand, which he found on the bedside table, and pointed. Harry noticed and darted out of the way just before Malfoy managed to say, "Scourgify."
A/N: For those of you who don't know, "scourgify" cleans shit...yeah. Also, I still don't own Harry Potter. I'm sure many of you were thinking "Oh! This person is so great and literate and all that; why, I'm sure she owns this series!" But no. I don't. Sorry.
The next chapter is going to be really short. I apologize in advance~ But it'll be up soon.
The more people that review, the sooner I'll update! 3
Now I see why authors have to threaten the readers regarding upcoming chapters...
