Disclaimer: Come on, are you really surprised my half-assery extends to disclaimers?
(a/n: And so I reach a new level of lazy! Well, actually this time it was almost mostly not my fault sort of, because my mother grounded me for no reason in particular, but I still probably could've written this in a notebook or something…but I didn't. I just waited for my word processor like the lazy ass I am!
Have I used up all your forgiveness yet? )
Chapter 7: This Low
We made a plan that was subject to change
So whatever way it works out, we both get the blame
In the arms of this low
And you took the wind right out of my sails
By sweating me out on all the little details
In the arms of this low
—The Swell Season
"Potter."
"Nnngh."
"Potter, get up."
"G'way. 'M sleepin'."
"Potter," a voice breathed in his ear with a sweetness that sent a long shiver down his spine, "if you don't get off your lazy arse this second so help me Merlin I will make you wish you'd never been born."
He opened one eye experimentally; it was still nearly pitch dark, with only the faintest traces of the impending sunrise lightening the horizon. Struggling to sit up, he yawned hugely, the figure in front of him fading in and out of focus.
"Glasses," he said, his speech still slightly slurred. The black frames were shoved roughlyinto his hand and he frowned tiredly as he shoved them back onto the bridge of his nose. "Wha…" He yawned again, stretching his arms over his head, his mind still muddled thickly from sleep. "What time is it?"
"Quarter past four."
"Great. Wake me up in three hours, will you?"
A cold hand seized his collar before he could sink back into a lying position. "Get. Up. Now."
He blinked at the person attached to the hand, closing his eyes for half a minute or so, then opening them again. "You're…not Ron."
Cold gray eyes met his own. "If you've been with doing with Weasley what you did with me, I sincerely pity Granger."
Harry cocked his head in confusion, yawning again and trying to make sense of his surroundings. Not that he wasn't welcome, but Draco Malfoy really shouldn't be in his bed (which, now that he thought of it, felt an awful lot harder than usual)…and he didn't remember there being quite so much grass in the dormitory last he'd—
Oh.
Oh.
He yelped loudly as though he'd been kicked, pulling his shirt down as far as it would go to cover himself while he contemplated the mystery of where his pants had got to. "M-Malfoy!"
"Yes. M-Me," he mimicked, throwing a pair of wadded-up pajama bottoms at his head. "Get dressed and get out of here. If anyone sees us together I'm going to murder you."
"No one's going to see me," Harry grumbled, snatching up his cloak with a scowl. Draco cocked an eyebrow in annoyance.
"Potter, what are you doing?"
"Getting—dressed—" Harry puffed out in a series of irritated breaths as he struggled to change under the safety of his Invisibility Cloak.
"Don't you think that might be a bit easier if—"
"I don't want you seeing my…" He paused, flushing slightly. "Just turn around or something!"
"You can't be serious."
Harry gave him a dangerously stubborn look, curling his bare legs defensively under the cloak.
"You are of course aware of how completely mad this is," said Draco irritably, folding his arms as he turned away. "I've already seen—"
"I know!" he growled, thrusting his hands into his pockets only to find he'd put his pants on backwards. "D'you think I'm ever going to be able to forget that?"
"Do you want to?"
Harry swallowed uncomfortably; Draco had turned suddenly to face him again, all emotion thoroughly masked, gray eyes deep with concentrated analysis. "Wh-What?"
"Are you sorry you let me do it, then?"
"No!" he said immediately. "That's not what I meant. I just…" He lowered his voice as his cheeks reddened for the millionth time. "…I've never done anything like that before."
He'd half expected Draco to burst out laughing, but his expression was merely politely curious. "No?"
Harry flushed, feeling stupid. "Well…I mean, not with another…just by myself, really…but it wasn't anything like that."
Draco eyed him curiously for a minute. "Hm. Thought you would've by now. Bit repressed, aren't you?"
"Or maybe you're just a pervert," Harry muttered in a low voice. Draco snickered.
"It's within the realm of possibility. Now come on, people are going to start looking for us..."
Pulling his cloak around his shoulders, Harry frowned an invisible frown. "No they aren't. It's four in the morning, no one's doing anything except us. What's the bloody rush?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're absolutely right, Potter. Let's just stand out here in the cold until someone has the good grace to catch us in the act, shall we?"
"That's not what I—"
"I know what you meant. Look, what would you do if someone walked by right now and saw us? Like, that great hairy thing you and you stupid friends are always hanging around—"
"Hagrid," Harry corrected stiffly. "He's got a name, Malfoy, you can't just—"
"Hagrid, then, if you insist—what exactly would you do if he walked round the corner right now and saw us together?"
"Well, nothing, I've got my invisibility cloak—"
"Let's say you've—you've tripped over a rock or something, and it's come off. Now he's seen you and he knows you were trying not to be seen."
"I dunno, hide somewhere, run away or something—"
"Ah, isn't that suspicious! Now not only have you been seen in questionable company, but the fact that you bolted like a startled rabbit at the merest hint of—"
"All right," Harry growled finally. "I'm not stupid, I know it'd be bad if someone saw us."
Draco breathed a small laugh. "No, I don't think you do know, Potter. I think you've got absolutely no idea how bad it would be." His mouth widened to a grin at the thoroughly confused expression on Harry's face. "Look, are you coming or do I have to get really cross with you?"
"I…er. Fine. Coming," said Harry with a resigned frown, feeling this resolved absolutely nothing.
OoOoOo
"And just where were we last night?"
Harry's fork made dangerous contact with the back of his throat and he began to choke quietly on his breakfast as Fred and George sat uninvited in the places just vacated by Ron and Hermione. "D…Dunno what you're talking about," he coughed through a mouthful of egg.
"Oh, come now, Harry, don't insult our intelligence," chided Fred. "We were in your dormitory last night."
"What were you doing in my dormitory?"
"That's beside the point," said George professionally. "And imagine our surprise—"
"—shocked, we were, absolutely shocked—"
"—at the fact that a certain student was not if fact cuddled cozily amongst his blankets like a good little boy—"
"—how astonished we were to discover that our dear little friend was in fact nowhere to be found—"
"Shut up," hissed Harry in a low voice. "All right. I snuck out last night. What're you going to do, report me?"
George pulled a horrified face. "You wound me, Harry, to suggest I would sink to such betrayal. I'm very insulted right now, aren't you, Fred?"
"Heartbroken."
"I mean, here I make a friendly inquiry and—"
"Look, do you want something?" snapped Harry, cutting him off.
Fred gave him a grin that radiated deepest evil. "Just curious what you were up to."
"And it's really in your best interest to tell us," added George casually. "Because we're going to find out anyway."
Harry gave the pair of them a cold smile, dropping his fork with a light clatter and getting to his feet. "Right. Best of luck with that."
"Oh, we won't need it!" called Fred cheerily as Harry stormed away.
OoOoOo
"I question, Potter, whether you have gone suddenly deaf since I saw you last?"
"What?" said Harry in a spacey sort of voice, blinking half a dozen times and struggling to remember exactly what he'd been doing before he'd blanked out. "Er, no! Sorry, what?"
Snape's lip curled menacingly. "Assuming you are, in fact, capable of hearing, then I wonder why it is you seem to be sitting with Granger and Weasley when I have clearly said that you will be working with Malfoy today?"
Harry's eyes darted a few tables over; the sullen look on Draco's face seemed to confirm this.
"Professor, I don't think—"
"When I desire your opinion of how to teach my class, Malfoy, I will ask for it. Move, Potter."
Harry made to argue further, but Draco silenced him with a look. Mutely he gathered his books, avoiding Ron and Hermione's questioning eyes, and took the seat next to Draco's.
Neither of them spoke as the class busied itself with making the assigned potion, but as the din of their classmates grew sufficiently to cover most of their conversation, Draco said very, very quietly, "Anything you'd care to tell me, Potter?"
"He knows," said Harry flatly. "I'm not allowed to tell you how."
Draco risked giving him a quick, incredulous look. "You're not allowed—?"
"No. I'm not."
Draco's eyes returned immediately to the roots he was dicing, his stance stiffening coldly. "How much does he know, exactly?"
"Just that I…you know…how I feel. And he knows we—" he dropped his voice still further, as though divulging a state secret, "—kissed—" He paused thoughtfully, his brow creasing. "But nothing after that…so he must still think you hate me…so he's just doing this to—oh, that wanker!"
"Shh!" Draco ordered sharply. "People are going to here you."
"Sorry."
Draco sucked in a long breath through his teeth. "Don't apologize. If you can't talk quietly, just don't talk at all."
"I said I was sorry, Draco—"
"Malfoy," he corrected in an angry whisper. "You can't call me that in public, Potter, we've been over this!"
Harry continued to dice his roots mechanically, chewing hard on the inside of his cheek to keep any emotion from showing in his voice. "Right. Sorry."
Draco sighed. "Look, I know you think I'm being an arse, but if this is going to work, things need to be done a certain way."
"Right."
"You know as well as I do—"
"Yeah, I do," Harry spat crossly. "So you can stop reminding me every eight minutes, all right? I know."
Draco glanced sideways at him, sighing again. "Now you're mad at me."
"No I'm not."
"You're biting your lip right now because you want to yell at me and you can't. Your shoulders are tense because your arms would really like to reach out and strangle me. And you're not looking at me because if you do you won't be able to stay as angry as you'd like to be. Is that about right?"
"No," Harry lied stiffly.
"Oh, wonderfully convincing, Potter." Harry could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'll have you know all this resistance is terribly arousing…"
Harry's knife scraped upward at a sharp angle, sinking painfully into the flesh of his index finger.
"I was only joking, Potter, don't look so—" Draco's smile faded as he noticed the blood spilling from Harry's hand.
"Professor, Potter needs the Hospital Wing!"
"No, I d—"
"I wasn't asking you. Professor?"
Snape didn't raise his eyes from the papers on his desk, waving a disinterested hand in their general direction.
OoOoOo
"Are you insane?" Harry demanded the moment they were out of the classroom.
"Be careful, you've got to keep that elevated…"
"My hand is fine, Malfoy. I barely nicked it."
"Here, let me see it—"
Harry pulled his hand out of Draco's reach with a scowl. "You don't think that looked a little suspicious, Malfoy?"
"Merlin, it's still bleeding…come on, we need to—"
"Draco! Can you shut up about my stupid hand, please?"
Draco blinked, slightly startled by the use of his first name. "Hm?"
Harry put the hand that wasn't bleeding to his temple and sighed heavily. "I don't understand you, Malfoy. Half the time you don't want me anywhere near you, but you're willing to let everyone see you panicking over that?"
"It's…different," said Draco unhelpfully.
Harry spared him an annoyed glance. "No it isn't."
"It is," said Draco firmly. "I don't like it…I hate the thought of you being hurt, all right? Even if it's just a, a nick or whatever, you were bleeding and—I dunno—oh nevermind."
"You were scared," said Harry with a tiny smile.
"I—I wouldn't say that." He turned his head, avoiding Harry's gaze wherever it went, and folded his arms moodily.
Grinning wider even as Draco scowled, Harry kissed him tentatively on the cheek. "Nice of you to worry."
"Shut up," Draco growled as Harry trailed him happily up to the hospital wing.
(a further a/n: I really like the word wanker, apparently.
Really, this chapter is so boring, that was the only observation I could think of.
Aren't you glad you wasted twelve seconds reading this author's note?
I bet you are.)
