Title: Clear

Chapter 9: Slumber

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: R for slash themes

**WARNING**: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH THEMES – WHICH MEANS HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN TWO MALE CHARACTERS. YOU ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, but to the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. This is all FICTION; none of it is true. No profit was made from this story. I bear no responsibility for anything you may claim from this story, you have been warned.

LAST WARNING. SLASH. HOMOSEXUALITY. LEAVE IF YOU DON'T LIKE.

Notes:  Much thanks to the reviewers!!!! Thank you just so, so, SO much! Much thanks to May, the very evil bunny, ClarKeRaVen, alistar, Evil Laughter, efa, Summer, Anne Phoenix, Lady Malfoy II, someone who's too lazy to login, Heavens_beyond, GlacierFlame, bondagechic, IncubusSuccubus, in-a-crushd-tin-box, Patchfire, Marionette, Gwendolyn Malfoy, Lunadeath, mellony melody, Sera Luanma, Hoshikio-Malfoy, J (BleedingEros), Moonblade, Sienna of Lothlorien, Zany, pottergirl, Mistic, random reviewer, ILLk, Hoshiko-Malfoy, Little Bunny Fu Fu, scythefire, Kiren, vanityfair, AshFarley, phoenixwhitebirch, Sineadluv (heehee!), K.C., Marian of the Faeries, Aurora, Tanya Maxwell, Reveuse, Avalon Princess, yiota, chrisseee67, Rosetta, deadredsocks, JadeDragon, and Chiaki Dark!!! Thank you very very much for your reviews :)

***

Snape was pacing.

Dumbledore watched him, half-amused, half-contemplating the situation they were in.

After ten minutes of silence and non-stop pacing, Snape whirled and strode to Dumbledore's desk, slamming his palms onto the surface. "We must think of a way to prevent this!"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Severus. We must. But we must consider what is to be done, how it is to be done, and who will be sent to do it." There was a speculative pause. "Severus, have you thought about adding another spy to our network?"

Snape immediately knew what Dumbledore was trying to say. "No!" he roared. "Do you know what you are saying, Headmaster?! I will not have a student of mine sentenced to become Death Eater. Let me be the only one to suffer, and spare the children from the evil we call the Dark Lord." He paused, somewhat embarrassed by his outburst, and continued, lowering his voice. "Headmaster. You must consider this very carefully. Draco Malfoy has the potential to become a great wizard –"

"Perhaps even greater than myself," mused Dumbledore.

"Stop fishing for compliments, Headmaster," scowled Snape. "You know that the chance of that is highly unlikely. Even the little scoundrel Potter has little chance of surpassing you in terms of magical ability."

"Oh, do stop flattering me, Severus," said Dumbledore, smiling. "You're making me blush." Snape rolled his eyes. "Do continue."

Clearing his throat, Snape did so. "As I was saying, Headmaster, Draco Malfoy would clearly be an asset to either side, should he decide to choose one…an asset that we cannot afford to lose, and one that the Dark Lord needs."

"Needs, Severus? Does Voldemort need anyone or anything?"

Flinching at the name of his master, Snape crossed his arms. "He relied on Wormtail and other Death Eaters to hide him when he was weak and fragile. Now, of course, he does not need anyone because he has regained his powers." Snape tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shudder. "Like I said, Headmaster, Draco Malfoy would be an asset to us, as he would be an asset to the Dark Lord. If we can somehow convince him and Potter –" Snape scowled – "to cooperate, then we would have a force that even the Dark Lord would be loathe to encounter in a battle situation."

Dumbledore nodded sagely, stroking his beard. "Yes. Yes, Severus, you're right. We should not just give up Draco to Voldemort so easily. But we should also think of Harry. You know now that this matter concerns him as well."

"What do you mean by that? How does this concern Potter?" Snape was incredulous.

"Well, I've been thinking about this, and Harry could come to make or break this…especially with his new…development in his…situation with Mr. Malfoy. May I ask…does Harry appear much altered when he is around Draco?"

Snape sniffed disdainfully. "Completely ignoring my presence and heading straight for him, you mean?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "Excellent." His smile was gone, replaced with a neutral look. "However, the decision that Harry must make on this matter is…well, I just hope that –"

"Do you have a plan already?"

"A plan?" Dumbledore blinked as if surprised. "Well, yes, I do, I suppose. Not a perfectly formed plan, as of yet, but I have some idea what to do."

Snape sighed, somewhat relieved slightly, though the problem had not been given a solution yet. Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, a plan would be just the thing." He pressed a button on his desk. "Minerva, would you please come to my office?"

"Right away, Albus," came Professor McGonagall's voice. A minute later, the witch was knocking on the door.

"Do come in, Minerva," said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly.

The meeting of the Inner Circle had begun.

***

How long had they been standing there, unmoving? How long had they been standing, not saying a word, Harry still holding Malfoy tight, as if he was something too precious for him to ever let go? How long had they been standing, time frozen, gone in a world that only consisted of Harry and Malfoy?

He could feel warm tears slide onto his skin, and he could feel cold wet patches on his robes and neck, but he still didn't move, still didn't remove his chin being tucked over Malfoy's shoulder, still didn't open his eyes, just concentrating on breathing slowly, on the warmth of the body he held so dear to his, on Malfoy.

Finally, the tears stopped, and Harry stood for a while longer, not willing to let go just yet. He lifted his head slightly, rubbing cheeks with Malfoy. Such soft skin should be illegal, especially on a seventeen-year old Malfoy. Or on an almost seventeen-year old Malfoy.

"I'm fine, Potter." Malfoy lifted his head. Harry instantly missed the warm weight on his shoulder and the delicious feel of scandalously smooth skin against his cheek, even more refined and delicate than the softest of silks. And what a hideously improper time for him to be thinking such thoughts…

Harry squeezed tighter. "It's late, Malfoy." He caught sight of a clock on the mantelpiece. "It's almost two in the morning. We have classes tomorrow at nine, even if we skip breakfast."

Malfoy tensed in Harry's arms. "We, Potter?"

"Yes, we," said Harry in a very matter-of-fact manner. He tensed himself, ready to argue with Malfoy.

Instead, he felt the man – boy, really – relax, and say, "Alright then."

They stood like that for a little while, Harry still holding Malfoy from behind, before speaking again. "Malfoy, I think we should get some rest. You need it."

"You seem to need it more," retorted Malfoy, as a huge yawn rendered Harry speechless. "But alright, I'll go lay down." He broke away from Harry and walked tiredly to the edge of his bed. Pulling up his comforter, about to get in, Malfoy hesitated and looked at Harry. "Will you…?" he began.

Harry's heart began thundering at an alarming pace. "Yes?" he squeaked. He cleared his throat, blushing slightly. "I mean, yes?"

"Will you…" Malfoy ducked his head down and Harry swore that the tips of Malfoy's ears had turned pink, or was that just his imagination?

"Yes?" he asked again, a bit too eagerly.

"Potter, I know this is asking a lot, but. Would you mind. If, you know." Malfoy tugged on the comforter a bit more.

Harry fought back a smile. "Would you like me to tuck you in, Malfoy?"

Malfoy looked away again, but said nothing. Instead, he began undoing the clasp on his school robes. Harry moved closer, biting down hard on his lower lip, until he was next to Malfoy, but standing slightly behind him. "Here," he said, softly. "I'll help you with that." Malfoy's hands were shaking so badly they couldn't even grasp the fastening, much less undo it.

Harry turned Malfoy until they were standing face to face, and began to unfasten the clasp for him. It was a very ornate silver one, much grander and aesthetically pleasing than the regulatory school ones, and Harry found that it was also a lot stiffer and harder to undo. Malfoy was just looking down at the hands on his robe, but whether he was embarrassed, pleased, or just plain tired, Harry couldn't tell. "There," he said, finally, and slid the robe off Malfoy's shoulders, revealing black silk pajamas. "You have your pajamas on already?" asked Harry, feeling somewhat disappointed, but not knowing why as he folded Malfoy's robe and set it over a nearby chair.

"Of course, Potter," said Malfoy, turning back to the bed and pulling on the comforter and sheets to loosen them from their tightly tucked positions.

"…why?" Harry frowned slightly. "Aren't you supposed to put them on when you go to bed?"

"There are no rules for clothing on non-contact hours, Potter."

"I know that," he said defensively. "I just don't know why you chose pajamas."

"Well, why not? After shower, ready to jump into bed…They're comfortable as well."

"But you'd get all icky."

"Night time showers, Potter. Not right after dinner, like you, but right before bed, like me."

"Oh." A pause. "Hey! How do you know when I shower?!"

Malfoy toed his shoes off and bent down to take off his socks as well. Harry was rather distracted by the view, but still blushed when he heard Malfoy's answer of, "I see you with your hair wet when you're in the Great Hall doing homework after dinner."

It was when Malfoy pulled at his black ribbon, releasing his hair from its ponytail, that Harry lost the ability to breathe, speak, and think.

"Oh."

Malfoy tossed his socks off to the side and climbed into bed, getting in on all fours before crawling to the center of his huge bed. It must have been enhanced magically; no other student bed in Hogwarts was that enormous. And…Malfoy was still crawling slowly.

oh. my. GOD.

Harry gulped. After what seemed eons, when it was really only half a second, Malfoy settled in and lay down in the midst of a million fluffy pillows. Harry reached for the comforter and pulled it over Malfoy until it reached his chin. Patting down the edges, he felt Malfoy's eyes on him, but refused to meet them as he smoothed down the fabric.

"Potter?" Malfoy whispered.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Harry straightened up. Leaning over Malfoy was a not good thing and DEAR GOD he was a pervert, wasn't he, when Malfoy was depressed and about to receive the Dark Mark – the fucking DARK MARK – and all Harry could think about was kissing those tears away from the pallid cheeks and bringing a smile back to the melancholy face and Malfoy's whispers whispering more than he was now and that it wasn't hoarse from screaming at the injustice of the world but from screaming his own name – Harry!

"Potter, would you…? Nevermind." Malfoy looked away.

"I'll be staying right here, Malfoy. I could sleep on your sofa – why do you get a sofa?"

"I get a sofa because I transfigured a sofa, you dumbass." Malfoy looked up at him again, sitting up. "Why don't you…"

"What?"

Malfoy shook his head, then began scooting across the bed to the other side. "It's big enough for two, Potter, and I know you've been running around the castle all night and that you'll be aching tomorrow and…company is nice."

Harry grinned, and his robe went to join Malfoy's on the chair as he kicked off his shoes, yanked off his socks and –

"You could borrow some of my stuff, you know, Potter. Sleeping in Muggle clothing isn't very comfortable, I should think," came Malfoy's drawling voice, still scratchy and horribly misused. "Look in the top drawer over there," he said, pointing to a dresser.

Harry opened it to find more pajamas of the sort that Malfoy was already wearing, and took the top set off the stacks that were neatly folded inside. "These?" he said.

"Yes."

"Where's your toilet?"

"Honestly, Potter, you've been seen naked in the showers by other boys and you're asking for a toilet to get changed in?" Malfoy looked slightly annoyed, and somewhat disappointed as well.

"Yes." Harry lifted his chin defiantly.

"Over there, that door," said Malfoy, pointing, before flopping down onto his bed, bouncing slightly.

Minutes later, Harry emerged and folded his clothes on the same chair that the robes were on. The lights were off, save for one tiny nightlight on the other side of the room. Malfoy was an unidentifiable lump on the side of the bed. Harry made his way silently across the room and to his side of the bed – years of practice at the Dursleys' had given him the amazing ability to move around silent, like a shadow.

Slowly, trying not to disturb Malfoy, he lifted a corner of the comforter and slid in, reveling in the luxurious textures and plush mattress. How come Malfoy always had it so much better than any other student? It didn't matter as Harry moved unhurriedly into a sleeping position, staring at Malfoy's back.

He closed his eyes, sighing, not believing that he was here, in Malfoy's room, in Malfoy's bed, wearing Malfoy's pajamas, and sleeping next to Malfoy himself. Fatigue washed over him – the events of the past few hours had taken too much of him, and he was exhausted as he had never been.

Snuggling in deeper, he turned to face Malfoy, and he couldn't resist open his eyes just a little bit to catch a glimpse of him.

Malfoy was awake, staring at him with those unreadable silver eyes of his.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry muttered, "I thought you were asleep, Malfoy," as he moved closer to the center of the bed. Closer to Malfoy, who, unconsciously, was doing the same.

They were right up next to each other now, as Malfoy whispered, "I don't sleep, Potter."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so, Malfoy. I know more about sleep than you do. No one doesn't sleep at all."

"Fine then, I only sleep for four hours on a lucky night."

Sighing again, Harry inched closer again, until he could feel Malfoy's breath on him. "Malfoy, it's not good for you. We need at least eight hours a night to stay healthy."

"Perhaps," said Malfoy, waving it off as a trivial matter.

Their fingers and toes touched. Malfoy touch was freezing, but Harry didn't even feel the slightest shock as his fingers came into contact with what seemed to be blocks of ice. Instead, he curled his fingers so they became intertwined with Malfoy's, pulling the two of them even closer so that their legs became similarly entangled. His other hand went to touch Malfoy's chin with the tip of his index finger, caressing tenderly with short, light strokes.

The two of them had been staring at each other the whole time, never blinking, never breaking the contact they had. Malfoy's mouth had opened slightly and little warm gushes of air kissed Harry's own lips, of which he chewed the bottom one nervously.

"Sleep, Malfoy, please."

"Potter…"

Moving even closer, Harry wrapped his free arm around Malfoy and pulled him in tight. His fingers found stray locks of silver hair, so fine and lustrous they appeared to be spun into fine silk from the light of the moon. Pressing his bitten lips to Malfoy's temple, he whispered again, "Sleep, Malfoy, please." And Malfoy sighed and nestled in deeper and closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

To Be Continued!!!!!!!!!