It had been a bad day, Harry decided, lying on the couch in the library; he really was tired. Ron and Ginny were playing chess, and Granger was alternating between reading a book and shooting concerned glances at Harry. It was mildly annoying, on top of his unease at Draco's sudden return to last names. After what they'd been up to yesterday, that had been painful.
Had he been so bad at it? Draco had sure seemed to enjoy himself. Harry had been pretty caught up in the passion himself, but it's hard to misinterpret someone shouting your name and coming down your throat. What could Draco's (Malfoy's) problem be?
It was a bit much on top of everything else. The morning session with Professor Dumbledore had been gruelling, to say the least. They'd gone over every spell Harry knew, it seemed, trying to coax that extra burst of power out of him. It hadn't much worked, even when he'd been defending himself in a mock duel against Professor Dumbledore. It had got so he could feel something in him holding back, but that wasn't much help, in his opinion. He'd been left feeling inadequate and scared on all fronts.
Now his head was aching, despite his best Occlumency, and he felt small and embarrassed about how far he had let himself lose control with Draco (Malfoy). Clearly the other boy didn't take such things as seriously as Harry did.
Then again, Harry was fifteen and had had two kisses to his name before his encounters with Draco. Draco clearly had far more experience than that, as indeed who their age did not? Obviously this was just another instance where Harry was going to be strange and left out of the ordinary stream of things.
A questing presence brushed across his Occlumency shields, and he shoved it away in irritation. Clearly Snape had taken the potion and couldn't resist testing Harry's shields. That was fine, but this was the sixth time he'd tried, and Harry was tired of it. The attempted intrusions were abrasive, and his head hurt enough already.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked once again, laying down her book to frown over at him when he sighed.
"I'll be fine, Hermione, it's just a headache," he said tiredly.
"Do you want a headache potion?"
"I had one before I came in here. I just need to be still and let it work," said Harry.
"Well, let me know if you need anything," said Hermione, and reached for her book again.
The door slammed open to reveal Draco Malfoy, who stridently demanded, "What the hell is your problem, Potter?"
Harry winced. "I'm tired and I have a headache," he snapped. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't shout."
Draco came into the room, a look of concern layering over the anger on his face. "What the hell is your problem, then?" he demanded in a softer but no less insistent voice.
"I thought I just told you," said Harry grumpily, shutting his eyes as Draco stomped nearer.
"Leave him alone, Malfoy," said Ron, looking up from the chessboard as Ginny took one of his pawns. "He's had a bad enough morning without you making it worse."
"I bet you didn't have Professor Snape poking at your brain all morning," said Draco, ignoring Ron and looming over Harry. Harry could feel his shadow even with his eyes shut.
"Why would you think that?" Hermione demanded. "Harry's probably the first mind he went after once he took that stuff. He's been bothering him all day."
"Really?" Harry opened his eyes at the less-angry tone of Draco's voice, and found him peering curiously at him. "Feels like pepper in your head, doesn't it? I don't get how you didn't notice me in your head, if it feels like that."
"You didn't," said Harry, closing his eyes again. "And Snape hasn't made it past my shields, anyway. It's just tiresome having to ward him off."
"I can Occlude, too, you know," said Draco, apparently nettled by this. "You look terrible, Potter" he observed dispassionately.
"Like I said, it's been a bad day," said Harry.
"Have you had a headache potion? I bet that --"
Harry gritted his teeth. "Yeah, Malfoy, I have," he interrupted. "I just need some peace and quiet."
Draco sat down on the end of the couch, uncaring of the uneasy glance Harry sent towards his clearly disapproving friends. While Ron glared, Ginny took one of his bishops.
"So, are you somehow mad about getting to wear my clothes? Because I can guarantee you'll look better than you ever have before," said Draco.
"Oh, thanks, good to know what you think of my looks," Harry muttered. Although what else had he expected? He knew he wasn't much to look at.
"Potter –"
Gryffindors charge ahead where others fear to tread…"Look, why do you keep calling me Potter?" Harry burst out, though he tried to keep his voice low in deference to his headache.
"Do I?" Draco looked genuinely surprised.
"This afternoon you've called him nothing but," said Ginny, taking one of Ron's knights.
"Really?"
"Yes, Malfoy," said Hermione. "How could you not notice? We thought you two had had a fight or something. "
"Of course not," said Draco, looking earnestly at Harry. "Far from it. You didn't think I was mad, did you, H - Potter?" He scowled horrifically. "I just deliberately tried to say H – your first name – and couldn't," he said slowly.
Harry sat up. "Couldn't?" It wasn't something wrong with him?
Draco shook his head. "H – Potter," he said, and scowled even more horrifically. "Professor Snape!"
"I thought you said you could Occlude your mind," said Ron snidely, discovering that he was in check and swearing.
"Language," Ginny murmured. "You think Snape messed with your head, Malfoy?"
"That's exactly what I think," said Draco wrathfully. "It's the only explanation. He never did like me calling H – Potter by his first name. He must have planted an Imperio on me before I could get him out of my head." He leaned forward until his forehead was almost touching Harry's. "Look into my eyes and say 'Finite Incantatem Imperio'." At this range, a single silver eye took up Harry's entire field of vision.
Laughing a little, Harry backed up a bit until he could focus on Draco. He gazed deep into the other boy's eyes and said firmly, "Finite Incantatem Imperio!"
"Did it work?" Hermione asked.
Draco blinked. "Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry," he said, and grinned evilly. "Well done. Now I just have to think of a way to show Professor Snape my – appreciation."
Harry shivered. His headache was flooding back. "I think I need another headache potion," he said faintly.
"You do look pale," said Hermione, as Draco jumped up and left the room; Harry sincerely hoped in search of the potion. Hermione went and fetched a cool damp cloth, which felt marvelous when laid across his brow.
Moments later Draco showed up with a smoking beaker and said, "Here, drink this. Fresh out of the cauldron; I brewed it myself." Ron made a little protesting noise, but Harry drank the potion without hesitation.
His headache seeped away to almost nothing at once, just the little warning prickle in his scar that was as good as he ever got. "Thanks, Draco," he said.
"My pleasure," said Draco, beaming at him. "You just lie back and relax." He looked over at Ginny. "Game of chess?"
"You're on," she said, and Draco joined her at the chessboard. Hermione shook her head and returned to her book; Ron wandered aimlessly for a bit before settling down with the newspaper, and Harry lay back and closed his eyes, feeling much happier about his day. It was amazing how your outlook improved when your head wasn't splitting.
He did decide to take a useful hint from his earlier angst though, and slow things down with Draco. He was obviously already a bit too emotionally involved for his own good; he and Draco needed to be on a more equal footing for him to feel safe enough to go forward.
His libido protested this, but he was resolved. He couldn't let Draco jerk him around like that, even unintentionally.
At that moment, Draco crowed over some particularly clever move he had made, and Harry smiled over at him. He really was something when he wasn't being nasty; his open smile was miles more attractive than his usual smirk. Ginny was smiling back, and Harry felt an annoying pang of jealousy. He knew Draco dated girls, and Ginny was awfully attractive herself – and came with far fewer roadblocks than Harry did when it came to romance. He knew Ginny was firmly in love with her own Slytherin, but would Draco --?
Just then Draco looked over at Harry and winked, and Harry blushed. Slowing down was going to be mighty difficult, he realised ruefully as he dozed off.
