"For a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable." – Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

ALL BUT DEATH

XII

INEVITABLE

The bed was enormous. It was by far the largest bed Harry had ever seen. It would undoubtedly dwarf Harry's own bed, and Harry could not stop staring at it. The card games had not lasted nearly as long as Harry would have liked, and his heart was hammering fiercely at the thought of having to climb between the silken sheets of the boat-sized mattress before him. Oh lord, was he really about to share a bed with Draco Malfoy? Harry considered delaying the inevitable by washing up again, but it would only make him seem neurotic at that point. He had already taken an overly long shower before spending nearly ten minutes brushing his teeth. Any more time spent in the bathroom preparing for bed would only make the others think he had some sort of bedtime neurosis.

Breathing deeply and attempting to ignore his racing pulse and growing panic, Harry steeled himself before pulling back the thick blanket and sliding into the ice-cold sheets, the silk feeling slippery and glacial against his body. He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, doing his best to calm down before Malfoy got to the bed. Focusing on his inhalations, Harry tried his best to center himself and clear his mind, attempting to recall everything he had ever been taught in Occlumency.

But the second he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps and felt the blanket move, Harry's pulse jumped right back up to a frantic sprint, and he couldn't help but turn his head to watch as Malfoy climbed into the other side of the bed, settling in and tucking the blankets around himself before taking a deep breath and glancing over to Harry, who froze as he suddenly found himself making eye contact with the man. A fierce blush spread across Harry's cheeks as he turned his face back to the ceiling, heart hammering in his chest. He felt squirmy and awkward and wasn't sure what to do with his hands. He shifted his legs and readjusted the blankets, wondering how he could have possibly forgotten how he normally slept. Was it on his back? His side? Did he normally sleep on his stomach? Harry had no idea how to behave normally in a bed he was sharing with Draco Malfoy. How could his behavior possibly ever be normal when he was in such an abnormal situation?

A soft whisper had Harry turning back to Malfoy in surprise, just in time to see the man tuck his wand beneath his pillow. He raised both eyebrows in question, noting that Draco's cheeks were flushed pink.

"Silencing charm," the blond explained, locking his fingers together before placing his hands flat on his stomach. "A temporary one. It will wear off in fifteen minutes or so."

"Ah," Harry said, unsure how else to respond. Why had Malfoy cast a silencing charm around them?

"Look," Draco said suddenly, sounding nervous, "it really is all right if you would prefer to just Transfigure your own bed somewhere else in the room. I won't be offended. Much."

"Er…" Harry stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"Well…" the man fidgeted with obvious discomfort, "you just…don't seem all that comfortable, really. Which I blame Theo for, the stupid idiot. I apologize for everything he said, Potter, and can only ask that you not listen to a word of the ridiculous drivel that comes out of his mouth."

"Er, right," Harry said slowly.

Malfoy huffed an exasperated sigh. "I'm not going to do anything is the point I'm trying to make."

"Do anything?" Harry repeated, feeling his confusion cement itself in his mind. "What, you mean like sleep? You're not going to sleep? Why?"

"No," Draco drawled, and Harry could practically hear the man rolling his eyes. "I meant, you know…I'm not going to do anything. I know what Theo was saying, but I promise that I'm not going to molest you in your sleep or jump you the second you close your eyes or anything."

"Oh," Harry said in surprise, feeling his heart rate somehow double, picking up speed until it was hardly even beating but more of a constant racing thrum in his chest. "Right. Um, thanks, I s'pose. But I was never worried about anything like that happening."

"Then why are you so discomfited by our sharing a bed?"

At the question, Harry flushed bright red; he could only pray that it was too dark for Malfoy to notice his embarrassment. "No reason," he responded, adding an extra prayer that Malfoy could not hear the trembling in his words.

"Right," Draco said, in a voice that clearly told Harry that the man did not believe him. "Well, if you can't give me an actual reason, then I can only assume that your discomfort is because of me personally and my proximity. Does it make you uncomfortable to share a bed with another man? I can only assume that it's my gender and my sexuality that are causing you to feel so uncomfortable."

"No, that's not it!" Harry argued, half-sitting up in bed without realizing it. He shot a worried glance around the room, but the others were all facing away from them and appeared to be unmoving. Thank god Malfoy had thought to cast the silencing spell. "That's not what it is, Draco," he said quietly, lying back down but turning onto his side to better see Malfoy. "You don't make me uncomfortable, all right?"

"Sure," Malfoy said, and Harry could once again tell that the man did not believe anything that Harry was saying. "Look, whatever the reason is, it's clear that you're not comfortable in this bed. So maybe I should just Transfigure my own somewhere else and—"

Without being aware of his actions, Harry reached out and snatched at Draco's wrist in an attempt to keep him there in that bed, cutting off everything the man had been about to say. "No, Draco," he said in a low voice, shifting closer. "Don't. Please. Just stay here."

"Okay," Draco breathed, silvery eyes seeming to glow in the darkness as he gazed at Harry. His skin looked as white as snow in the dim light of the night sky drifting through the window and falling onto the bed. His hair was the color of moonlight and looked as soft as wind where it lay against the pillow, and Harry was unable to stop himself from touching it, releasing Draco's wrist and reaching up to comb his trembling fingers through the silken strands of the man's hair. "Harry," Draco whispered, breath catching as Harry shifted closer again.

"Draco," Harry murmured, studying the other man's face. His cheeks were dusted a light rose-pink, his breathing had quickened, and his mouth was just slightly parted. And now that Harry was staring at his lips, he found himself unable to look away. His lips looked as soft as velvet, and Harry was nearly desperate to find out how they felt against his own. "Draco," he repeated, sliding his hand down Draco's hair to cup his jaw, marveling at how he was somehow not feeling cripplingly self-conscious at such a bold move.

A warm hand covered the back of Harry's own, and Draco closed his eyes in contentment. "Harry," he whispered again, his bottom lip quivering in a way that broke Harry's heart.

Deciding that he was already touching Malfoy and that the man had not yet run away, Harry shifted closer and closer, until their legs were tangled together and their chests were close enough that Harry could feel the warmth emanating from the other man's body. Draco's eyes were still closed, clenched tightly shut as though he was terrified of opening them, and Harry wondered what that meant.

"Draco," he said quietly, stroking the man's jaw with one thumb. "Look at me."

After a silent eternity of Harry holding his breath, Draco's eyes slowly opened and he sucked in a sharp gasp at Harry's proximity. "What are you doing, Harry?" he asked in a voice so soft that Harry barely heard it.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "Something I've wanted to do for the past two days, I suppose. But I can move back to the other side of the bed if you would like me to."

"No!" Draco shook his head frantically. "No, don't." This time it was Draco's turn to shift closer as he reached out to grasp at the collar of Harry's pyjamas, a pair he had once again borrowed from Malfoy. "You're wearing my pyjamas," Draco said in wonder, sounding as though he did not believe his own words, "you're in my bed. Harry…"

And the sound of his name spoken in such a tone, the single word so heavy with a sort of reverent amazement that Harry was certain he had never heard before, snapped the last of Harry's restraint. He lifted his head from the pillow and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Draco's in a kiss as whisper-soft as the silken sheets they were tangled in. He felt Draco's mouth part in surprise before the man hesitantly molded his lips to Harry's own, returning every soft press as he sighed into Harry's mouth. After several moments, Harry pulled back far enough to see Draco's face, who was staring up at him in disbelief.

"What was that for?" he whispered, tracing Harry's jaw with the fingers of one hand.

"I suppose it was for the same reason anybody kisses another person," said Harry, keeping his voice low. "Because I wanted to."

"Oh," Draco said, appearing surprised by the words. "Right."

"I like you, Draco," Harry admitted. "You're so different from what I was expecting. You're not at all who I thought you were."

"Oh," Draco repeated, appearing unsure how to respond.

"What are you thinking?" Harry wondered, hoping that the desperation was not too obvious in his voice. He wanted so badly to know every single thought that passed through Draco's mind, especially in regard to their current situation. Was Draco pleased that Harry had kissed him? Was he uncomfortable at their closeness? Was he wishing that the two of them had never shared a bed? What?

"Nothing," Malfoy said, speaking to the wall behind Harry.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling disappointment course through him. That was a bad sign. Did that mean that Malfoy didn't feel the same way? Harry had really thought that Malfoy felt something for him, but maybe Harry had imagined the whole thing. Maybe every comment that Nott had recently made about the two of them had been nothing but sarcastic. Maybe Harry was only kidding himself by thinking someone like Draco could ever be interested in him. Harry made to move back to his original position on the other side of the large mattress, but Malfoy's hands were still clenching his pyjamas tightly and he was unable to move.

"You have no idea," Malfoy breathed, staring into Harry's eyes and hypnotizing him with his gaze, "how happy I was to see you walk into the dining room the night of the party. You have no idea, Harry, how happy I was that you accepted the invitation. I was terrified that you would refuse to accept it, or that you would laugh and rip it into pieces. I'm not even sure how to describe the feeling of relief that came over me when I saw you enter the room."

"Yeah?" Harry whispered, uncurling Malfoy's fingers from his shirt in order to interlock their hands. He dropped a soft kiss onto Malfoy's knuckles and heard the man inhale sharply in response. "I wouldn't have guessed that, actually. I mean, Hermione was the one you sent that letter to. Ron and I only got the invitations."

"I wasn't sure what to say to you," Draco confessed. "There was far too much to say, none of which felt right in a letter. I wasn't sure if any attempt I may have made would only have made things worse."

"I can understand that," Harry shrugged, allowing his initial hurt over his lack of a personalized letter to fade away.

"But I am sorry," Draco continued, brushing Harry's calves with his own. "For everything, Harry."

"It's okay," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry as well. But thank you, Draco. I wasn't sure we would ever be able to move on from our past. But we already have, haven't we?" Harry wasn't actually sure if they really had, was certain that there were things from their past that would one day resurface in unexpected ways, but right then, at that moment, Harry held no resentment or lingering anger toward Draco for anything.

He was no longer the Malfoy from their youth.

Draco said nothing for a very long time, remaining silent as he curled into Harry's body, tucking his head beneath Harry's chin as their legs tangled together in a way that Harry wasn't certain could ever be untangled.

Finally, Draco spoke. "I'm glad you're here, Harry."

Harry smiled to himself and held him closer. "So am I, Draco."

oOo

It was dark. Harry shifted, blinking in tired confusion as his eyes struggled against the heavy blanket of darkness cloaking the room. Where was he? Hair tickled his face and he glanced down in surprise, relaxing a moment later as he recognized the shock of silvery-white hair lying beside him. When had he and Draco fallen asleep? Groaning, he stretched his limbs and prepared to drop back off to sleep before a sudden creaking noise made him freeze.

Reaching over, he groped around the mattress before finding his wand and summoning his glasses, slipping them on a second before a sudden looming shadow made him bolt upright, heart pounding furiously as he pointed his wand at the man staring down at him. Nott stood beside the bed, not a hint of amusement on his face as he gazed down at Harry with a hard look, and Harry had to bite back a dozen curses that he instinctively wanted to throw. What the hell was Nott doing standing over Harry in the dark like that? Why was he watching Harry sleep?

"Nott," he said in a low voice. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"You're awake," Nott said, keeping his flat, indifferent voice quiet.

"What are you doing?" Harry repeated, feeling a sliver of fear worm its way through him at the expressionless look in Nott's shadowed eyes.

"Someone's here," he said simply.

"What?" Harry asked, blinking in confusion.

"Someone's here," Nott repeated, gesturing to the door leading into the hallway. "Someone's outside, Potter."

Hary and Nott both froze as the jerky sounds of a locked knob being tested sounded in the silent room.

"Fuck," Harry whispered to himself, climbing instantly from the bed. The doorknob continued to rattle as he crossed the room cautiously. He was less than two meters away when a heavy thud sounded, making Harry jump. He gripped his wand tighter, wondering if the person on the other side of the door had thrown their shoulder against the wood. Fuck, who the hell was trying to break into their room in the middle of the night?

The noise of the rattling increased, and Harry could see the way the doorknob jerked back and forth as the lock prevented it from being turned. He could hear the patter of the rain as it continued to strike the windows; lightning flashed and thunder cracked overhead. The floorboards squeaked loudly beneath his feet as he stepped forward, and at the sound, everything fell silent. The wind continued to howl past the house accompanied by the patter of the rain hitting the windows, but the large brassy doorknob went still, and Harry hurried to undo the many-layered wards on the door, wishing he could simply cut through them like steel scissors.

Finally, the last ward fell, and Harry clutched his wand tighter as he slid the lock on the door open, keeping to the side of the frame as he twisted the knob and allowed the door to swing inward. Lightning flashed, spilling blinding white light around the room. Harry blinked against the sudden illumination pouring in through the large windows as he allowed the door to swing open another inch, wincing at the loud creak of the hinges.

Wand in hand, Harry cast a shield around himself as he peeked around the frame, frowning as he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Stepping fully into the hallway, Harry glanced up and down, unable to see anyone or anything out of place. Lighting his wand, he held the light over his head, attempting to pierce the thick shadows clinging to every wall like a stain, like thick oil bubbling up through the earth to cover everything in black tar.

Turning to his left, he cast a revealing charm, making the hallway glow eerily as he wondered if whoever had been at the door was still there or if they had already left.

The sound of running footsteps made him turn sharply and immediately give chase, pushing himself to run faster as the sounds of someone sprinting ahead of him rang in his ears. He raced down the corridor, following the sound of pounding footsteps as they sped through the Manor, leading him deeper and deeper through the twisting hallways, past more doorways than Harry could count. The sound of booming thunder accompanied the chase as Harry pushed his legs faster, desperate to catch up to whoever had just tried to break into Malfoy's bedroom.

A door slammed up ahead without warning and Harry automatically paused, breathing heavily as he glanced around, the light from his wand throwing looming shadows around the corridor, shadows that shifted and crouched and watched him with black, inky eyes. There was no one in sight, and Harry could no longer hear anything. The only sound to be heard was the storm raging outside and the sounds of his own ragged breaths as he spun in circles, studying his surroundings with increasing panic.

Where had they gone? Where had they disappeared to? Christ, there were so many doors…so many rooms they could be hiding in…and Harry wasn't sure if they would try to lock the door or if they thought he would simply assume that the person would never hide in an unlocked room. How would he even know if a sealed room he came to was housing whoever had tried to break in, or if it was a room occupied by the others for the night?

The thoughts spun through Harry's head like whirling ghosts, taunting him with his own uncertainty. The sharp, bitter taste of fear coated the back of his throat like vinegar. His eyes darted frantically around the hallway, wondering if someone would leap out at him the moment he took a step forward. His heart pounded, blood rushing through his veins so quickly it made him dizzy, and he shivered when he realized that he did not even know which direction he had come from. How would he find his way back to Draco's room? He spun around once more, desperate to find anything that looked familiar enough to lead him back, but he could see nothing he recognized. The corridor was so dark; everything was drenched in shadows so thick Harry could hardly see the walls. He had no idea which part of the Manor he was in or how he would ever find his way back. The Lumos he had cast seemed to be mocking him with its jagged light, making everything appear even sharper and more sinister. It felt as though something was on the very edge of the shadows, just waiting for him to drop his guard enough to pounce. Something was waiting for him in the darkness, something bloodthirsty and real, something that had already seen so many of his classmates dead.

Someone wanted them all dead, and Harry shivered, wondering if he was imagining the feel of the cold, piercing gaze raking across his flesh, piercing straight through him and making even his veins feel flooded with ice. The shadows seemed to be reaching out to him, whispering to him, licking along the edges of the light like a demon's tongue hungering to devour him whole.

Oh god, Harry shouldn't be out there alone. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to find somewhere safe, somewhere less exposed. Anybody could be watching him in the darkness; he had willingly made himself the easiest target in the house by venturing out on his own. Anyone could be hiding in one of the dozens of shadows crouched around the corridor.

A pale hand suddenly reached out and grasped his wrist, making Harry gasp as he flicked his wand up to press against a slender throat.

"Harry," Draco whispered, his voice a combination of shock and fear. "It's only me."

Harry immediately lowered his wand. "Draco. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he answered. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be out here by yourself. Come back to the room."

"No," Harry said in a low voice, glancing around the corridor again. "No, Draco, they're here somewhere, I heard them come this way."

"Yes, and there are a million places they could be hiding in by now," Draco said, tugging at Harry's arm. "What if they want you to go looking for them? What if they're waiting for you to open the door to whatever room they're in, and that's when they attack? Harry, please, come back with me!"

His voice was filled with fear and Harry hesitated, part of him torn between wanting to go back with Draco and wanting to search for whoever it was that had been out there. But what if Draco was right? What if the whole thing had been the beginning of some sort of ambush? What if the point of their trying to break in hadn't been to actually get into the room, but to draw one of them out?

Harry suddenly went cold. What if the point of it was to get them to lower the wards?

Without another word, he snatched at Draco, nodding at him in silent acquiescence and allowing the blond to drag him back down the corridor and into the room they had both come from. The door was slammed behind them and quickly locked, Harry and Draco working together to put the wards back in place. Turning around, he scanned the room, noting that the others were all huddled together near the fireplace, wands drawn and faces looking grim.

"Did you find anything?" Parkinson asked, every word weighted with terror.

"No," Harry sighed. "I heard someone running, but they got away."

"Do you think they knew where we were?" Davis wondered, and Harry could hear a tremble in her voice. "Or do they think they were simply trying doors?"

Sighing again, Harry raked one hand through his hair. "Honestly? No, I don't think it was just random coincidence."

Zabini's eyes narrowed. "The only one who knows where we are is Smith. I'd say it's pretty obvious who was at the door just now."

"We can't know that for certain," Harry argued.

"Yes, we can," Zabini argued back. "He's had it out for us ever since this whole thing started. Do you really think it's a coincidence that we get someone trying to break into our room only hours after Smith discovered where we are?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "But I don't want to decide anything without speaking to Ron and Hermione first. Either way, I doubt that whoever it was will be back tonight."

"So we just go back to sleep then, is that the plan?" Nott drawled, tilting his head.

Zabini shook his head. "I'll stay up. You lot go back to sleep." With one hand, he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Parkinson's ear, who grasped his hand tightly between both of her own.

"What about Granger and Weasley?" Draco asked quietly. "Do you not think this is something to wake them about?"

Harry paused, torn. "They barely slept last night," he said with a shake of his head. "I want them to get some rest. And I'm not sure what else they could do unless we're all willing to start another manhunt through the house, although whoever it was could be anywhere by now."

"But what if they tried to get into their room as well?"

Harry smiled grimly. "No. If they couldn't get through these wards, then there's no way in hell they could get through Hermione's."

The Slytherins all stared at him for several moments. "Are you sure you're okay to stay up, Blaise?" Parkinson asked in a soft voice, and he nodded as he rubbed her arm in comfort.

"I'll be fine," he promised.

"Well, if we're not about to be killed, I'm going back to sleep," Nott drawled, sounding bored. "If you start getting tired, Blaise, wake me up and I'll take over lookout or whatever."

Zabini nodded, and the others slowly drifted back to their Transfigured beds, although Harry wasn't sure if any of them would be getting any sleep.

Reaching down, he slipped his fingers through Draco's and pulled him back to the large bed along the distant wall. "Come on," he murmured. "We'll be okay."

Draco said nothing but allowed himself to be pulled in the direction of the bed. Harry gently pushed him down onto the mattress and pulled the heavy blanket up over the both of them, tucking himself around the other man and settling them into comfortable positions. Draco's head lay pillowed on his shoulder, his fingers clenched in Harry's pyjamas. Harry's right arm was wrapped around Draco's waist while the fingers of his left were tangled loosely in his blond hair.

"Do you really think we'll be all right?" Draco whispered, and the fear in his voice made Harry tighten his hold.

"Yes," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. "We'll be fine. They won't be back tonight. And Zabini promised to sit up and keep watch. I won't let anything happen to any of us, Draco. Especially you."

Draco burrowed further into Harry's chest, saying nothing but pressing himself closer into the brunet. The room was completely silent other than the hard raindrops slapping against the glass and the occasional rumble of thunder shaking the panes. The entire room felt like it was holding its breath and Harry couldn't help but wonder how many of them were lying awake, waiting for something else terrifying to happen.

The thought made Harry clutch Malfoy even tighter to himself—he wouldn't let anything touch Draco. He would not let a single hair on Draco's head be harmed. He wasn't quite sure what it was they had between them or where it was headed, but he knew that he would protect the man with his life if it came down to it. He wasn't quite sure what his feelings for Draco meant outside of knowing that the man was important; he was important to Harry, and Harry would protect that.

It was a very long time before Harry managed to fall asleep.

oOo

Grey light was flooding the room when Harry awoke, slowly blinking into a dismal morning of awareness drifting in through the windows. His arm was numb, and he gently pulled it free from where it lay trapped beneath Draco's sleeping body, shaking the pins from it and flexing his tingling fingers before rolling onto his side to observe Draco sleeping. The man lay facing him, both hands curled loosely atop the mattress. His breathing was deep and even but changing in a way that made Harry think he was going to wake any minute. His pale hair was fanned over his face, fluttering softly every time he exhaled.

God, he was beautiful. Harry could watch him for hours.

Without warning, Draco's eyes suddenly snapped open, and Harry felt a bit taken aback at having been caught staring. Draco's cheeks flushed pink as he jerked back in surprise, a wry smile creeping over his face as he settled back into place.

"Dirty sod," he murmured in a husky voice thick with sleep, "watching me like that when I'm unconscious."

"Only for a minute," Harry said lightly, returning the half-grin. "But does that mean I can stare at you without being a dirty sod now that you're conscious?"

"You can," Draco smiled, "but I don't think it'll actually make you less of a dirty sod."

"For the love of god," a voice drawled before Harry could respond, and both of their heads snapped up to find Nott sitting in an armchair across the room, shaking his head at them, "no flirting this early in the morning. Mornings are difficult enough by themselves, but my stomach and I can't deal with you two flirting with each other whilst I'm running on such little sleep."

"Don't listen then," Draco huffed, scooting closer to Harry.

"If only I could tell my ears when to stop working," Nott replied sarcastically.

"Leave them alone, Theo," Parkinson mumbled, shifting on her mattress. "Let them discover the joys of newfound love for themselves. Just let them have their early morning flirting."

"But if you're going to be sick," Zabini added, rolling onto his back, "I ask that you do it quietly. And at a distance."

"That only makes me want to see if we actually can make him sick," Draco said, joints popping as he stretched.

"Trust me, it's possible," Nott said with a shake of his head as Harry used his fingers to comb the hair from Draco's face.

"Deal with it, Nott," he said lightly.

"No thank you," Nott responded in a bored voice, "I prefer to be violently ill."

"Your choice," Harry shrugged.

"No, more like my torment."

"What time is it?" Davis wondered, sounding tired.

"Early," Nott responded.

"Ta, arsehole," she yawned, "but I had actually already guessed that, believe it or not."

"If you're giving me the choice," Nott drawled, "then I choose not to believe it."

"Such a tosser, isn't he?" Parkinson chuckled.

"He isn't," Nott replied, dodging as Davis threw a pillow at him.

"He definitely is," Draco said, sitting up and staring around. "So, I guess we made it through the night without any additional trouble?"

"Looks like it," Nott said dryly, "although Blaise lied about being able to stay up all night."

"Sod off," Zabini returned, holding up two fingers in the man's direction.

"We should go check on the others," Harry spoke up, sitting up and stretching. "We need to make sure everyone's all right and I need to speak to Hermione."

"I suppose," Draco sighed, sounding reluctant. "Although I much prefer the idea of simply staying here and not dealing with those people again."

Harry raised one eyebrow. "Those people?"

"Yes," Draco nodded, waving one hand in the direction of the door, "the others. The people out there. The ones who all hate our guts."

"They're just scared," Harry said quietly, earning a loud snort from Zabini.

"And we're not?" He sat up in bed to give Harry a flat look. "Every sane person in this house is scared, Potter."

"I know," Harry said simply, pulling himself from the bed. "But we can't just stay up here all day."

"Can't we?" Nott wondered, toying with the sleeve of his robes. "It's as simple as not leaving this room, actually."

Harry sighed. "I'm going to have a shower. And spell my clothes clean again," he added with a disgruntled frown at his pile of clothing folded near the bed.

"Just borrow something from Draco," Zabini said, in a voice so indifferent that Harry almost mistook it for Nott's. "That's what Theo and I have been doing."

"You're already wearing his pyjamas," Nott added. "I don't see how borrowing a set of robes crosses some invisible line of intimacy that borrowing sleepwear doesn't."

"Sod off, Theo," Draco snapped, his cheeks a rosy pink.

The sight of his blush made Harry grin. "Can I borrow some robes then, Draco?"

"I suppose," Malfoy sniffed. "If you must."

"Just say you must and go shower already," Nott drawled.

"I'll bring something in for you," Draco promised, and Harry nodded gratefully.

Lord, all he wanted was a hot shower and the ability to stop thinking.

oOo

Emerging from the bathroom several minutes later, clean and dressed in a burnished set of robes that Draco had placed on the counter for him, Harry entered the bedroom to find everybody dressed and speaking quietly.

"Ready to go downstairs then?" Harry asked, glancing around at them all. Their only response was a single collective sigh.

Crossing the room, Harry was still several meters from the doorway when a sudden loud, frantic knocking made him jump. Within seconds his wand was in his hand and he was dismantling the wards, gesturing for the others to group out of sight of the door, against the farthest wall. The deafening banging did not stop or slow down, and Harry felt his heart thundering in his chest as he wondered who was on the other side of the desperate knocking.

Finally, the last ward fell, and Harry was able to open the door after casting a shield charm over himself. Surprise flitted across his face as the door swung inward to reveal Zacharias Smith on the other side, wringing his hands in terror as he gazed at Harry with fear-filled eyes.

"Potter," he gasped, nearly choking on his panic, and Harry quickly pulled him inside the room, glancing up and down the hallway to make sure that no one was pursuing him.

"What is it?" Harry asked urgently, resisting the urge to shake Smith to snap him from his daze. "Zacharias, what's happened?"

"It's—" the man uttered in a strangled voice, "it's…it-it—"

"Zacharias," Harry repeated, keeping his voice low. "Tell me what happened."

"It's Kevin," Smith whispered, his words somehow both empty and thick with emotion, and it took Harry a moment to realize what he had said. "It's Kevin. He's dead."

A/N: Aw, snap, there goes Kevin! Sorry, Kevin. We shall find out the mysterious details of his murder next chapter! (I'll try to be a lot quicker about getting the next few chapters out, sorry, lovelies! I swear to god this story will not be abandoned!)