Chapter Eleven: Nice Skin
Harry awoke to the motion of his arm being shaken.
"Potter, wake up." The voice was familiar, warmth flowing from the tone. "C'mon, you pillock."
He opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly at the blinding light of the infirmary. Draco was sitting on the bed, half-leaning forward with one of his hands gripping Harry's arm. He has such bony fingers. His grip was impossibly light, almost gentle.
"You feeling okay?" Harry asked groggily, before making to sit up in the chair. He realised then he must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. He indicated to the bedside table, where a bar of Honeydukes Best Chocolate sat. "I asked Pomfrey to get you chocolate for when you woke up. Pomfrey said Honeydukes was your favourite, or something like that."
It had struck Harry as a little odd that Madam Pomfrey knew what Draco's favourite chocolate was, but then, Draco had said that he'd spent time studying under her last year. And chocolate was a remedy against dementors.
"It is one of my favourites. Chocolate Cauldrons are the best chocolate from Honeydukes, though." He removed his hand from Harry's arm and picked up the chocolate bar. "Thank you, Potter." He ate it swiftly, and then put the wrapper aside on the bedside table. "I feel fine, better now. What happened? Last thing I remember, you were...there were dementors around you. And I'd thrown my wand at you." He clenched his eyes shut. "I think you cast a patronus, I can't remember."
"We're in the Hospital Wing now."
The prefect reopened his eyes and titled his head. "Clearly. Why am I here?"
"You were right. You did toss me your wand - which was stupid, by the way! You left yourself unguarded, and you didn't even know if I could use it. You saved us in the most reckless, stupid way you could've."
"That's a little like, what's that muggle saying...a pot calling a kettle black? You're always reckless, Potter. And I had a suspicion you'd be able to use my wand, anyway."
A wave of warmth settled in Harry's chest. He couldn't fault Draco for being reckless when he himself had acted hastily in the past, and he couldn't find it in himself to continue being angry when Draco was trying to quote muggle phrases. He's adorable. Harry bit his lip, in a bid to remind himself that Draco wasn't in fact interested in being Harry's friend. The man probably only wanted information regarding last night.
"I got rid of the dementors attacking me, but by then, the others had gone for you. They were sucking the soul from you. I sent a patronus at them. I had to...to kneel next to you. You could barely talk after, barely walk. I thought Madam Pomfrey could help," Harry explained, the memories of last night returning to him, one frightening scene after another. "I flew us back to the castle on my broomstick. I thought you needed help?"
Draco groaned. "Why can't I remember any of this?"
"You passed out on the ride back to the castle. Madam Pomfrey thinks it was due to exhaustion and the stress from keeping your wings inside your body. Dumbledore was angry when he heard."
"The headmaster was here?"
"McGonagall met me at the grounds outside of the Great Hall. She brought you to the Hospital Wing, and called Dumbledore and Snape here." Harry leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "I told Dumbledore everything, your wings causing you pain, how Snape is refusing to help Sirius. McGonagall was so angry, you should've seen her. She blamed Snape outright." He grinned. "Dumbledore said he is going to ensure Snape treats Sirius from now on. And Pomfrey suggested that you should be allowed to stretch your wings, too, since, you know, they're full of muscles and bones and all. "
Draco leaned back in his bed and nervously, he touched his wrist. "Did they see my mark? Am I to be expelled, Potter?"
"No, your shirt hid it. No one knows you have one. There is something else, though, Draco. Snape was really annoyed that you've been so reckless lately, he brought up the train incident and you casting two spells in class." Harry ran a hand nervously through his hair. "Snape's banned you from visiting Hogsmeade next month. I tried fighting it, I really did, but Dumbledore wouldn't revoke the punishment."
"Really? They've banned me from the Hogsmeade trip...banned me," Draco said slowly, as if reciting the information for himself, before finally scowling. "Why would Severus do this? What am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know," Harry replied, rather glumly.
The curtains that had enclosed the bed throughout the night were then stretched open to reveal Madam Pomfrey. Draco leaned further back into his bed, retreating to lie on his pillows. He laid a hand over his eyes.
"I thought I heard your voice, Mr Malfoy. How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Potter has just informed me that I'll be banned from visiting Hogsmeade likely until next year. So no, Madam Pomfrey, I'm not doing well at the moment."
"It is only a trip, Mr Malfoy. I'm sure you'll be fine. Now, I think it best if I can check your vitals. If they're okay, you can go and attend breakfast in the Great Hall. You will need to make certain you attend all mealtimes, even I can see you're still underweight." She turned to Harry. "You're fine to leave now, Mr Potter. You are not the one who passed out last night." She gave Draco a withering, disappointed look. "Or, Mr Potter can wait here with you, if that is your preference?"
Harry shrugged. "Draco, do you want me to stay? It's up to you."
"No...No, I need to speak with Madam Pomfrey alone."
"Oh, all right. I'll see you at breakfast, then."
He left for his dormitory, where he quietly made to drink his daily blood dose and then shower and shave in the bathroom. He didn't want his dorm mates to know that he was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. When he came out, however, he saw Seamus sitting up in his bed, stretching his arms above his head. Corner still had the curtains around the four posts of his bed shut.
Hopefully, he's sleeping.
"You all right, ey Harry? You were out all night," Seamus said.
Harry coughed awkwardly. He'd forgotten that Seamus had seen him chase after Draco last night. "Yeah. Draco is in the Hospital Wing right now. He's fine."
"That's good then. I was mightily nervous when you went after the cheeky sod." The Gryffindor laughed. "Hmmm, can you believe Draco hid those wings from us? What did Pomfrey have to say?"
"She's still checking him out, but he should be at breakfast."
Draco didn't appear for breakfast in the Great Hall, though. At lunch, Harry found Ron and Hermione along the far side of the Gryffindor table. He sat down beside Ron and pinched a few ham and cheese sandwiches from the communal plates to place on his own.
"Is it true you snuck off with Malfoy last night, Harry?" Ron asked outright, placing down his own sandwich.
Harry swallowed a mouthful without thinking. His throat feeling tight, he grabbed a jug of water, filled his glass, and practically drunk the entirety of the glass.
He then gasped, and replied, "What? Who said that?"
"Corner. He's been telling everyone that Seamus saw you two fly off your balcony or whatnot. Do you really have a balcony?" Ron went on, making Harry's head spin.
Hermione scoffed. "The girls have balconies too, Ronald. And how is that important?"
"No, you're right, 'Mione. What's important is, why are you hanging out with Malfoy? What happened last night? From what you were saying at dinner yesterday, Harry, I thought you two weren't even speaking. Now you're sneaking off. People are talking, mate."
"Well. It's none of their business," Harry grumbled. "Besides, it's Draco that's avoiding me, not the other way around."
A group of students walked in through the entrance doors. Harry turned his head and spotted Cho and her friends making their way for the Ravenclaw table. He turned back and stared idly at his sandwiches, disappointed. He's not coming, the idiot. Madam Pomfrey had specifically said that Draco was underweight and should eat at all mealtimes.
Hermione leaned forward. "Harry, what really happened last night? Corner is saying that Malfoy has wings and flew off, and you went after him, screaming something horrid about dementors. Please tell us. We've been worried all morning."
Not wanting his friends to fret, Harry explained the events of last night. By the time he finished, however, the food had vanished from the plates and he'd lost hope that Draco would make an appearance in the hall.
"Ah. Bloody hell," Ron said afterwards. "You doing all right, though, Harry? Seems a lot for our first week back."
Harry sighed. "I'm fine. But Malfoy hasn't come down for breakfast or lunch now. Pomfrey said if he was okay, he'd be free to leave. He looked fine when I left the hospital; I don't know why he isn't here."
"Not that I approve of you being friends with the bugger, but if he has really changed, and he isn't eating, mate, maybe you should take some food up to him or something at dinner? Just an idea."
Hermione huffed. "Is that allowed, really, Ron? We're prefects. Should we be advising him to take food out of the Great Hall?"
"Crabbe and Goyle used to nick cakes all the time in second year, 'Mione. And sod it, I'd rather not have to worry about whether the ferret is gonna starve himself or not. Let Harry take all the food he wants up to his dorm, no harm in that."
Hermione passed Harry a long-lasting scowl from her seat. She knows Draco has the Dark Mark. He hadn't told Ron yet, he didn't know if he could trust Ron not to run straight to his dad. I need to learn what Draco's mission is first. Draco doesn't want to be a Death Eater, he was forced into being one. I just have to find out why Draco was forced into it, though.
When dinnertime came, Harry again found himself looking up each time someone entered through the entrance doors to the Hall. And when mealtime was reaching its end, he started to pile food onto a plate: a crumpet, a sliced-up turkey sandwich, three strawberries, an apple.
Then, he stood up from the Gryffindor table. "I'll see you tomorrow in class. I need to write to Harold. Another part of my requirement to stay here, I have to send him one letter a week."
"All right, Harry. Make sure to mention your fangs in the letter," Hermione reminded him. "And have a goodnight, won't you?"
"Yeah, night, mate," Ron said.
Carrying the plateful of food, Harry said his goodbyes to other Gryffindors, left the Hall and made for the Grand Staircase. "Potter!" he heard someone shout behind him upon leaving.
He turned around on the first step of the Grand Staircase and found himself facing Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass. The women were dressed casually, as students weren't required to wear uniforms on Sundays. Parkinson wore a green dress with black stockings, and Greengrass had on a black blouse and a dark brown skirt. Aren't they a couple? Harry felt ashamed he knew of the information because of his spying on the train, from when Zabini had teased Parkinson for dating Greengrass.
"Parkinson, something wrong?"
The woman had a fancy-looking box in her hands. It was covered in red wrapping and held small, gold lettering that Harry couldn't read because her fingers were covering much of the words.
"Are you taking that up to Draco?" she asked.
"I might be, yes," Harry replied, trying to sound standoffish but failing. "Are you going to report me to a professor? Draco didn't come to dinner, and I know he was well enough to leave the Hospital Wing. I just want to make sure he has something to eat."
"No, I'm not going to report you. Tracey Davis told me that Draco's been hiding out in his dormitory since lunch, and I can't visit him. I can't enter your rotten, old tower." She raised her hands and held out the box. "So - here. You can take this up as well. It's his favourite, Chocolate Cauldrons."
Harry took the box. He rearranged himself so that he could place the plate of food on top of the box, to make carrying them both up the Grand Staircase easier.
"Chocolate Cauldrons contain firewhisky," she went on idly, watching him. "And that sour girl, Tracey, won't hold anything that contains alcohol, and I can't ask anyone else to give Draco them. All the other Slytherins in your tower are either untrustworthy or too young to be carrying alcoholic chocolates around." She snorted. "It came down to you, Finnigan or Corner. And Corner's been spreading rumours all day, and Finnigan, well, I wouldn't trust him not to scoff a few down himself first."
Harry chuckled. "He would do that. But you think Draco will accept them if they come from me? You're telling me, I'm more trustworthy than anyone else in the tower?"
"Don't let your ego get too big, there, Potter," she said. He gaped at her, and she smirked confidently. "Daphne and I won't say anything to the other Slytherins, either, don't worry. I don't want Crabbe or the Flints hearing about you taking food up. We both wanna make sure that Draco survives the year, yes?"
He frowned. "I'll keep an eye on him."
"Good. Now run along, Potter."
The two women stalked off towards the Entrance Hall doors, likely headed for the outside courtyard. Harry turned and continued on his journey up the Grand Staircase, wondering how he'd come to be in such a strange situation. Dumbledore had asked Harry to keep an eye on Draco only yesterday, and now Parkinson was requesting the same thing.
They all know Draco is up to something, that's what it is. They're all worried about him.
Once in the common room, he noticed seven young students huddled together by the fireplace. Books were laid around them, with sheets of parchment, quills and pots of ink buried in and among the books. He supposed these were the fifth years. The Slytherin Tracey Davis was also studying nearby. She sat in the window seat with her head buried in a book, alongside one of the seventh years. Maria, wasn't it? Harry couldn't remember the woman's last name.
He trudged up the staircase to the sixth years boy's dormitory, taking care not to drop the plate or the chocolates. He carefully unlocked the door and entered. He noticed Draco instantly. The prefect was lying on his front on the bed, his elbows propped up by a pillow and face practically buried in a book. Just like the students downstairs. Is everyone studying today?
"Corner, I already told you," Draco called from the bed, "I'm not studying outside with you. Go away."
"It's not Corner, Draco."
Draco turned on the bed so that he was lying on his back now. "Ah, sorry, Potter. Thought it was Corner." He sat up and rubbed his neck. "He wants me to talk to his Ravenclaw friends about last night. The bloody half-pixie thinks I don't know he's been gossiping about me all day. I'm not interested in gossip."
"He's a pixie?"
Harry could remember the pixies from their second year with Gilderoy Lockhart. The pixies had been small, blue creatures with immense strength, enough to lift Neville up and hang him from the ceiling. If Hermione hadn't intervened, we would've all been hanging from the ceiling. Harry didn't know whether he liked the idea of living with someone as troublesome as a pixie.
Michael Corner didn't even look like a pixie, though.
"You didn't know? His mother is a magical expert in pixies. Apparently, she was trying to discover if humans could develop pixie-like traits through magical transference, strength, blue skin, so on. That led to her gaining pixie-blood, which she then passed on to her son." Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Honestly, Potter, keep up," Draco said, sniggering. "One would think you don't want to learn anything about your fellow dorm mates."
Harry blushed. Only you, Draco. He managed to catch himself before he responded with that line. Draco looked absolutely gorgeous on the bed, hair mused, wrinkled white shirt, ink stains on his hands. He's a Death Eater, remember. Get a hold of yourself, you still need to be careful.
"I've been busy," he replied, and then strode forward to place the plate and the box of chocolates onto the Slytherin's bed. "I brought food. You didn't come down to lunch or dinner. And the box of Chocolate Cauldrons is a gift from Parkinson. She accosted me in the Entrance Hall." He turned and made his way for his trunk, knowing that he still had to write a letter to Harold.
"Thanks for the food," he heard Draco mumble behind him. "Pomfrey gave me breakfast, insisted on it before I left her ward. But then I heard about the gossip going about, and I didn't fancy going down to the Great Hall and listening to it all."
Harry smiled and looked over. "No problem. I mainly came up here just to write a letter. I have to keep up weekly communications with a high-ranking wizard in the vampire community. One of my many requirements for returning to Hogwarts. You don't have to worry about me bothering you, I'll just sit on my bed and write."
He managed to finish the letter quickly. And Hedwig had flown onto their balcony at some point whilst he was writing, the owl furious that Harry hadn't visited her at the Owlery in the past week. He'd been forced to give her extra treats from his trunk, spoiling her, before he could send her off with the letter tied to her left foot.
When he returned from the balcony to the dorm, the prefect gave a long groan and stood up from his bed.
"You know, Potter, Snape came to see me earlier. He passed a new official letter to me, and told me Dumbledore wrote to the Minister, asking him to renegotiate the terms of my stay at Hogwarts. This letter -" Draco reached into his trunk and brought it out "- states that I'm allowed to stretch my wings within the confines of the common room and my own dorm, and when no teams are training or playing in a match, and keeping within curfew times of course, I can go for flights around the quidditch pitch."
Harry grinned. "I told you Dumbledore could help. That's great!"
"It is." Draco tossed the letter onto his bed haphazardly and then marched towards Harry. "This is all your doing, however. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't acted the way you did. Severus told me how you fought so valiantly in my favour. I don't know why you're determined to make sure that I'm fine. I don't understand."
"What's hard to understand? I like you, Draco, that's it." Harry looked down and sheepishly, he ran a hand through his hair. "Or, at least, I think I'm starting to like you. You have nice skin."
"Nice skin?"
"I mean, you're attractive. And smart, and really funny when you're not being horrible." He smiled. "I know you're a Slytherin, and your mates don't like me after the train incident -"
Draco snorted. "That's only Zabini. He believes veelas wield less power than wizards and need protecting. Pansy and Goyle know I can look after myself."
"I know. You probably could've got away from the dementors without me. You're such a fast flyer, you'd have out-flown them all." Harry continued to stare at the floor, guilt eating at his chest. "I was the one who flew you back and got you banned from Hogsmeade. That was my fault."
"No, Potter, you're wrong. I'm not sure I could've out-flown them. I was tired, and last night was entirely my fault, all right. You couldn't have stopped me from going out. Absolutely nothing was your fault, understand?" Harry still didn't look up. He didn't want to face Draco; he'd almost lost him last night to the dementors. "You're a reckless nuisance, but I am glad you're my roommate this year."
"You're glad? I thought you didn't want me around," Harry said miserably. "You...well, you've been acting like you'd prefer to be around every roommate except me."
Draco sighed and leaned in, his chin brushing Harry's forehead. One of his arms wrapped around Harry's waist, holding him, pulling him into a hug. Harry could feel the soft breaths coming from Draco brushing through his hair. He was standing so close to the prefect that he could hear the man's heart beating in his chest.
"I've been trying to keep you at a distance, Harry."
Harry looked up. The sound of his name whispered from Draco, it made him hold his breath. This is nothing like it was with Cho. With her, the romance had been short, grief and confusion mixed together from Cedric's death, coupled with anger against the Dark Lord and Professor Umbridge. Their kisses had been wet and quick.
It was different now. Every moment with Draco was slow, devastatingly slow, and yet exciting. What would kissing Draco be like? Slow? Warm? Draco gazed down at him. He raised his hand and cupped Harry's cheek, thumb stroking his skin. Harry raised his own hand to clutch at Draco's already wrinkled shirt, all the while taking in everything, from the man's grey eyes, to his pointed nose, to his day-old stubble.
"Draco," he said breathlessly.
The prefect lowered his hand. "I can't do this, Harry. My mission -"
Harry stepped away from the man, his chest filling with an empty, eerie coldness. It was like his heart was turning to stone. "Why am I the only one you can't be friends with?"
"It's not just you, Potter. It's anyone who went with you last year to the Department of Mysteries. Granger, the Weasleys, Lovegood, and Longbottom. I can't be seen with any of you."
"We're alone, though, Malfoy. Right here, right now. Why are you afraid when it's just us?"
"Because you're my mate, Potter!"
Draco covered his mouth. The prefect twisted on the spot and stormed out through the balcony doors. Harry thought he would take off and fly away again, but instead, the prefect merely put his elbows on the banister outside and placed his chin in his hands. Knowing that he wouldn't flee, Harry retreated to stand outside as well.
The view from the balcony in the daylight was astounding. He could see the various smaller towers below, and near in the distance was the Transfiguration Courtyard. The courtyard had seemed so far away last night. Past the courtyard lay the Forbidden Forest, a great line of trees and bushes.
"What do you mean, I'm your mate?" Harry asked, finally turning to the prefect beside him. "Of course I'm your friend. You know that."
"I don't mean you're my mate as in my friend. What I mean is, you're the one I care for. I care more for you than any friend should do." He lifted his head from his chin and stared down at his hands. "Surely you don't need me to explain this? Didn't you study veelas during your little spying escapade on me, or asked Granger for information?"
"I haven't spied on you since the explosion on the train, Draco."
"Why are you doing this, Harry? Why?" he stuttered. "You need to cease calling me by my first name. I am trying to keep my distance from you, trying to protect you."
"I don't want your protection."
"I am a Death Eater, you pillock! I have a mission to complete."
"Well, if you'd just explain yourself, I could decide if you're as dangerous as you think. I doubt you are." Harry placed his hand atop the prefect's on the banister. "All you've done is protect me, help my godfather, and be kind to my friends and first years. You haven't done anything awful to me. You haven't told me what your mission is, and I don't know what being your mate means. And I'm not going to ask Hermione. You need to tell me."
"I should? Fine, then. Come with me." Draco grabbed him by the hand, dragged him into the dormitory, down the staircase, and then out of the common room.
"Where are we going?" Harry demanded.
"To the Room of Requirement. There, you'll see why I'm so dangerous."