Summary: A spell is cast on Harry which creates lots of angst. Draco comes along and creates lots of fluff. Hurrah. Not HBP/DH compliant. Slaaaaaash!

Disclaimer: Please don't remind about the fact that I don't own Harry Potter.

Rating: Like... T+?

A/N: Look at me, writing away like a lunatic. I just can't leave it alone D: My attention span is so short I normally just stick to writing one-shots, but this fic kept eating away at my brain and I don't think it will leave me alone until I've written it all out. I can't believe I'm on chapter 9 already!

If you review I will love you forever and leave you shiny things in my will.

--

--

Chapter 9

That evening Harry and Draco were joined once again by Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Remus Lupin. Ron and Hermione had been refused entrance again, to their utmost indignation. Draco smirked as he watched them turned away at the door. Bloody interfering Gryffindors.

Harry had been awake ever since Draco had brought him out of his nightmare, and now that he was conscious and lucid it looked as though his need for contact with Draco was lessening slightly. They sat together on the bed, not coming into contact except for every few minutes when Harry would reach out a hand to touch Draco on the small of the back, or his knee. He seemed to gain enough comfort from this alone, and from Draco's presence. But after conducting a few simple tests they gathered that it was still very painful for him when Draco moved too far away from the bed.

Madam Pomfrey had patched up the cuts and scratches on Harry's face and arms. They had a better understanding of their cause now, even if it did nothing except raise more unsolvable questions. Most of them she had been able to vanish away but the last addition had proved somewhat more difficult, and now a large plaster was covering Harry's cheekbone. Professor Dumbledore had explained to him everything that had occurred since he was brought into the hospital wing, and now he sat silently, trying to make sense of it all.

He had been hit with a curse. Nobody was quite sure what the effects of it were yet, but it had caused him a great deal of pain until they had discovered a way to ease it. Draco Malfoy. They had no idea why Malfoy might possess such an influence over him, and Harry couldn't understand at all why Malfoy would be willing to go along with it. Add to that the mysterious wounds that appeared on his face when he was sleeping, and Harry had probably never been more confused in his life.

"How are you feeling now, Harry?" asked Remus.

He looked up, startled out of his thoughts. He scratched absently at his band aid-clad cheek and said thoughtfully; "I feel alright. Tired, and a bit sore. But… better."

"What about the spell, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. "Can you feel its presence?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't really feel like there's any dark spell on me. I don't really remember anything except for going into that old house, and waking up earlier. Just… flashes of pain and people talking. And a dream… a dream about being attacked."

Draco stared at him curiously.

"What about your dependence on Mr. Malfoy?"

"I can feel that," Harry nodded. "Sort of like… a need to be close to him. Like an itch. And if I ignore it, it starts to hurt." He reached out and touched Draco on the knee with shaking fingertips. "But it goes away for a bit as soon as I…" he blushed and trailed off, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"How much longer is this going to last?" Draco asked impatiently. "I'm not spending the rest of my life cooped up in this room with him clinging onto my arm."

Harry studied Malfoy surreptitiously. He had expected much more of a fight from Malfoy than this. He wondered how exactly he might have been swayed into helping. Not that he wasn't grateful. He shuddered to think what kind of condition he might be in now if they hadn't discovered how Draco could make him feel better.

But… it was weird. He hated it, this desire to fall into Draco Malfoys embrace, curl up and go to sleep. He wanted Malfoy to put his arms around him and it made him feel awkward and embarrassed and angry. He didn't understand it at all.

"It will last as long as it lasts, Mr. Malfoy. We cannot say for sure," said Dumbledore gravely. "You have agreed to assist us in aiding Harry and you must simply see it through until the end. Whenever that may be."

"What about this… thing that happens, when I'm asleep?" asked Harry. "The cuts and stuff?"

"As to that, I am afraid there is nothing we can do except treat them as and when they occur. You cannot go without sleep and they are not serious enough to cause any real damage. Perhaps we can discover the cause by observation."

Harry nodded at Dumbledore, not feeling entirely comforted. Basically the headmaster was saying there was nothing they could do about his face getting cut to ribbons in his sleep.

"Mr. Malfoy will be here to wake you at any signs of struggle," Dumbledore added. Draco looked angry and discomfited. Harry reached out unthinkingly and placed his hand over the back of the other boys', running his thumb slowly over Draco's skin. Malfoy turned to glare at him and Harry whipped his hand away, a fierce blush dyeing his face red.

"For now, we will leave the two of you to rest." Professor Dumbledore swept towards the door, followed by Lupin and the nurse. "Any problems, contact Madam Pomfrey immediately."

Harry nodded and watched quietly as the door closed behind the three adults, leaving him alone with Malfoy, who threw himself back against the bed and stared at the floor, scowling. Harry studied him in silence, thinking. He was feeling exhausted already and had only been awake a few short hours.

"Potter," Malfoy suddenly snapped, making him jump. "Will you kindly stop staring at me? I appreciate you've come over all sentimental towards me but-"

"I have not come over all sentimental," Harry retorted, reddening. "Just because for some unfathomable reason this spell has made me need you much closer to me than I would ever normally allow, it does not mean my feelings towards you are anything other than pure hatred."

"Wonderful," said Malfoy coolly. "I am relieved to hear that. What fun this will be, stuck in this crappy little room for god knows how long with you whimpering in your sleep and feeling me up every five minutes."

Harry had just been reaching his hand out to touch Malfoy on the knee, but he snapped it back and opened his mouth furiously. "Why are you even here then, Malfoy? I would've thought you'd be delighted at the prospect of causing me pain!"

"What choice have I got?" snapped Draco. "What am I going to do, turn to Dumbledore and say 'I'm terribly sorry Professor, but I really do hate him far too much to help, I'm afraid the Golden Boy will just have to suffer it out this time because I would honestly rather die than let him touch me'? That would go down well, wouldn't it?"

Harry glared at him furiously.

"Fine," he muttered. He turned away from Malfoy and lay down at the opposite end of the bed, his head close to Draco's feet. He pretended to be getting comfortable and reached out a hand to momentarily touch his fingertips to Dracos' leg, feeling the crawling sensation inside him fade. Malfoy scoffed. Harry ignored him and closed his eyes, waiting in silence for sleep to arrive.

--

--

He was in an enormous room, so big he couldn't see any of the edges, and everything around him was white. He turned left and right, stretching his fingertips outwards, waiting to come into contact with a wall, with anything. A noise behind made him spin around… but there was nothing there expect empty white space stretching on for what might be eternity. He turned again, slowly walking forwards, his hands outstretched.

Again, a noise behind him. He span round and took a few hesitant, curious steps back the way he had come, but changed his mind and decided to carry on with his original route. He turned.

Fear flooded through him at the sight of a figure standing before him. Cloaked in black with face hooded, he could see no features, nothing exposed… but a feeling of recognition flickered through his fear like lightning. He tried to speak, but his throat wasn't working. The figure began to slowly advance towards him.

He backed up, fingertips feeling behind him, not taking his eyes from the hooded individual. Slowly they pulled a long, curved blade from inside lifeless, hanging robes. A long current of fear sparked down his spine as he backed away, not daring to take his eyes off the figure, turn around and run.

Still they advanced towards him through the endless white, not speaking, not making a sound. The knife glittered. His back hit a wall and his fingers scrabbled over the surface, looking for a handle, a hold, anything. Terror stabbed into him as the white flickered into black momentarily. Darkness surrounded him and he could see nothing at all for a second that seemed like an eternity, until the white flashed back into life and the figure was still advancing, getting closer all the time. He edged along the barrier, nowhere left to run. The white fell to black again and the cry of terror wouldn't leave his throat. He could hear nothing, see nothing.

White again. He felt his limbs giving out as his sight flooded back and the figure was less than three feet away, a towering outline of black with the faintest hint of gleaming eyes behind a dark hood.

Black again and he screamed in silence as cold, thin fingers closed around his throat and pinned him to the unseen wall. Light burst back and he thrashed against the strong grip, terror lashing through him. His hands flew wildly outwards, not connecting with anything - falling straight through the black outline of the robes and grasping nothingness. Dark and light flashed continuously like strobes and he felt the cold edge of the knife slide into his chest through a silent scream of pain.

A cold voice hissed into the silence, drawing out syllables on a death rattle.

"Harryyy Potter…"

He struggled and thrashed wildly against the hold, cold fingers strangling him and fear stabbing through him.

"Harryyy Potter…"

He was trapped in the darkness, alone and dying.

"Potter…"

"Potter! Potter!"

He fought against the fingers gripping him, lashing out and this time hitting solid flesh. He screamed and struggled desperately to escape.

"Potter, wake up! For Christ's sake, wake up!"

He jerked upwards, a gasp of fear filling his lungs, his head pounding, a stabbing pain in his chest.

"Potter, it's alright! You were having a nightmare again. Get a grip on yourself!"

A spark of recognition flickered through Harry and he squinted through tear filled eyes, his vision filled with white blonde hair. Malfoy. He let out a sob and collapsed into Draco's arms, gasping in pain. Hands held onto him and he trembled uncontrollably, a hand clutching his chest.

"Oh god…" he groaned through gritted teeth.

Draco stared down at the boy in his arms. Potter was drenched in cold sweat, shivering, his breathing ragged. He tightened his hold and felt Potter cringing away in pain.

"Potter, what…? It was just a bad dream, that's all." He pulled away slightly and held the shaking boy at arms length. Disbelief and alarm coursed through him at the sight of Potter, white as a sheet and shaking, his scar red and angry on his forehead. He tugged the hand away from Potters chest and pulled his shirt apart. A gasp escaped him.

Blood was flowing from Harry's chest, staining his surrounding skin and clothes a dark red. A thin, deep wound ran nearly the length of his upper body from left to right. Draco stared at him in astonishment.

"Potter… what…?"

Harry's face was deathly pale, his eyelids heavy. He winced as Draco touched shaking fingertips to the wound.

"I dreamt it…" he whispered, and fell, unconscious, into Draco's open arms.

--

--

A/N: Whooaaa! Really freaked myself out when I was typing up that dream!

Thank you thank you to Lady Sakura of the Fated (seriously… can I shorten that to something? xD) and to Nagini Potter. I send you mind hugs. Next chapter up soon-ish, maybe tomorrow, maybe tonight if my brain won't leave me alone. Eeeee, I'm nervous about this chapter, I hope you liked it!