A/N So here it is! Finally... I know, I haven't updated in light-years, but I was stuck. Very stuck. Quagmire stuck. But I've decided to add a little twist to the story which I wasn't going to put in there before. Enjoi!

Seven Years of Bad Luck

Chapter 7: A Bump in the Night

Harry sat on the bed, biting his thumbnail; a bad habit which Hermione was always telling him to drop. He had slipped Ron the Cloak earlier that day; now it was past 2.00 and Ron was nowhere to be seen. Hoping he hadn't been caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, Harry's gaze fell upon the blonde sleeping next to him, chest rising and falling gently with the intake of each breath. Even in sleep, Draco wore a smirk-like smile, as if he were having a pleasant dream, calm and soothing. Harry couldn't help but notice the particularly long eyelashes, or the way a few strands of his bangs fell across his left eye.

It was then when he suddenly became oblivious to time, and only that it was a long time before he finally fell asleep, unaware that his dark hair fell onto blonde as his head hit the pillow.

-

The next day, Harry was confronted by a tearful Hermione, who stopped him in the hallway on his way to Charms.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" he asked tentatively, with a sidelong glance at Draco. Hermione extracted herself from Harry's arms long enough to spill forth an incoherent jumble of words before bursting into tears again.

It was Draco who got some sense out of her. Gripping her shoulders and looking her in the eye, he shook her gently but somewhat firmly and said,

"Look, Granger, he can't help you if you don't tell him... can't you see?"

Surprised, Hermione nodded slowly, and managed to explain to them both that Ron had been attacked in the hallway and that he was currently in the Hospital Wing.

Stricken, Harry wanted to skip Charms to go and see him, and finally persuaded a reluctant Draco to go. As the last people filtered from the hallways, dawdling on their way to classes, the two boys sprinted up the main stairs to the Hospital Wing.

-

"Ron?"

Brown eyes [1] blinked several times, then slowly focused upon a boy with dark unruly hair.

"Harry.."

The boy knelt by the hospital bed and spoke in a low voice so that Draco, sitting nearby, engrossed in a Quidditch magazine, would not hear.

"Hermione told us that you'd been attacked. What happened? Was it V-"

He was cut off by Ron violently shaking his head, suddenly unable to speak a single word, eyes wide open with fear. He started to shake violently as if a sudden chill had been brought to his body, even though he was wrapped in a warm hospital blanket. He opened his mouth to try and utter some words; but none came forth, only a stuttering sound. Draco stopped reading the magazine and gaped at Ron; for once he said nothing.

Urgent thoughts flashed across Harry's mind- should he fetch Madam Pomfrey and reveal that he and Draco had skipped class? Or should he try and calm Ron down? Before he had time to think of a solution to the problem, Ron slumped back against the headboard in a faint.

"Shit.." murmured Draco.

"I'm staying here with him," said Harry, just as the sound of light footsteps reached their ears.

"You can't, dipshit! That's Pomfrey coming and she's going to bust us for skipping class!" he sprang forwards and grabbed Harry's hand, which, even in an urgent situation, he couldn't fail to notice was pleasantly warm. He dragged the boy out of the hospital and into the corridor.

Harry glared defiance at the blonde, but said nothing.

Draco broke the long silence which followed. "It wasn't Voldemort, was it?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. It must have been something more terrible...although I can't think of anything so terrible as the resurrection of the Dark Lord,"

After speaking these words, Harry chanced an uneasy glance at Draco, who was staring at him. After emitting a soft laugh, he shook his head.

"You think I'm a Death Eater, don't you? Or that I support Voldemort?"

Harry paused…and nodded.

Draco laughed again, but his face quickly gained a serious expression. "I'm not a fool, Potter. I know the difference between good and evil. I may be a cheeky bastard at times, nasty and albeit a little self-centered-"

Harry snorted, but Draco continued.

"-and insensitive. But I'm not evil. I'm not like my father,"

Harry stared at him for a long time, into the face of one who looked so serious, so trustworthy… he had to believe him. Finally, he nodded. "This has something to do with me. It's my fault."

"DON'T BE NOBLE, POTTER! Just because your friend is lying in the Hospital Wing, it doesn't make it your fault! Even if there is something bad in this school, and even if it did come here because of you, you couldn't have prevented it!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" yelled Harry back. "People have DIED because of me! Cedric died because of me! And what you said on the train last year didn't really help me at that point, Malfoy! I wish I wasn't Harry bloody Potter! I wish it was someone else!"

"YOU CAN'T STAND AROUND WISHING AND TRY AND UNMAKE FATE! What's happened has happened, and for good reason! Can't you see it? Are so blind you can't see that you're the one who-"

Draco found himself unable to continue. Harry's mouth covered his own, a soft surge of heat spread from his body to Draco's. Surprised, yet unable to act upon it for the numb feeling gathering in his brain, he closed his eyes and...kissed back.

Harry was so shocked at his spur-of-the-moment actions, that he was ready to pull away- ready, until he discovered Draco's fingers buried in his hair, when he decided against it.

As the realisation of what was happened had sunk in, the two boys stood in the hallway near the dungeons, sharing a kiss.

-

"Well, well," said an oily voice. A nasty voice, a greasy voice, which Harry recognised. The owner of the voice- also oily, nasty and greasy- stood watching the two. How long he had been standing there, they didn't know.

Draco and Harry jumped apart. They had been making so much racket with their shouting that the Potions Master had come out to investigate, and caught them in the act.

Snape said nothing, and the bell rang. "Come with me," he said curtly.

They followed him, and Harry knew where they were going. Dumbledore's office. He wasn't dreading it that much, actually. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't mind? As his feet carried him towards the marble staircase, after Draco and Snape, Harry wondered whether he was becoming gay. He was about to contemplate this idea further, when they reached the stone gargoyle.

"Ice mice," barked Snape, and the statue leapt aside. Draco and Harry passed through the doorway into the small entry room before the office. Snape bid them sharply to remain where they were before going into the office himself.

No words were exchanged between the two boys, but both could still taste the kiss on their lips. Loud conversation could be heard from within the office. There seemed to be several wizards and witches in there, evidently having a conference of some sort.

After what seemed like an age, the door slid open, and Professor McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Arthur Weasley and several other wizards Harry didn't recognise came out of the office. Dumbledore called the two inside, and they went forth.

"So, Harry, Draco," said the old wizard as they settled into two chairs in front of his desk. They didn't answer; Harry stared at the floor and Draco at the silver gadgets adorning the desk.

"I hear you've been getting on quite well with each other, is that so?" No answer. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Well, I suppose I could tell you what's been going on." His face grew serious. "There is a demon in this school. A dark, wretched, awful thing. It attacks once a month. It had come from this..er.. this curse, and it will only be destroyed when that curse is broken."

"But you told us there was only one way to break the curse, and that we would be horrified.." Harry spoke up.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, yes, so I did. But in the present circumstances.. I shall tell you."

Blonde and dark haired heads attached to lithe bodies leaned forwards eagerly.

"You have to fall in love."

-

A/N Yeee! I did it! I wrote a chapter! Squee for me!

[1] I don't know what colour Ron's eyes are. I made it up.