A/N: This chappie has very simply been slipt in half with cut/paste for
easier reading, and my sanity.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter 5:
Harry managed to get through all of Double Potions on Thursday without staring at Draco. He barely looked at him. But just knowing he was sitting there across the room, was wreaking havoc on Harry's concentration. Luckily he was saved by having Hermione as a partner.
"Really, Harry," she said, "you never make this many mistakes in Potions. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Harry told her several times.
The Gryffindor team marched out to the pitch after dinner that evening. Dusk was gathering, and the field was well lit. Harry called the others to him when they got there. "We have to begin our practice on the pitch right away; the Slytherins booked the field half an hour from now," he told them. There were exclamations of dismay from the rest of the team. "It's stupid, I know," he said, "but there's nothing I can do about it. Snape approved their request, so we just have to live with it. Let's not waste the time we have." They flew into the air, and began their practice.
Half an hour later the Slytherin team showed up just on time.
"Aren't you lot done yet?" the Slytherin captain called out.
"Sure," said Harry, "we've had loads of time to practice."
The captain scowled at him. He turned to his team, said something the Gryffindors couldn't hear. Half the Slytherins laughed. "Let's go give some real practice," said the captain louder. The Slytherins were in the air in a flash. Before the Gryffindors could react, the Quaffle had been snatched out of their hands, and their Beaters jostled for position. The Slytherins flew about the field and a new kind of game was started.
The Slytherin Chasers made their way to the Gryffindor end. Ron caught the Quaffle, but he wouldn't release it.
"Hey, what does your Keeper thinks he's doing, Potter?" the Slytherin captain shouted angrily.
"We get your point. We're leaving," said Harry. He motioned to his team; they headed for the ground. The Slytherin captain smirked, and jerked his head toward his two Beaters. They zoomed off toward the Bludgers, then slowed sharply. Harry was heading for the ground and didn't pay any attention. Ginny, who had already landed, looked past him and shrieked, "Harry, look out!"
"Wha...?" Harry's head swung around, but he was too late. Two Bludgers slammed into him simultaneously. Harry groaned, and slipped off his broom for the few feet to the ground. There was laughter behind him, a lot of it. He didn't look to see if they were all laughing. He didn't want to know.
"Harry, are you all right?" Ron asked, white-faced.
"Yeah," said Harry, making his way forward toward the Gryffindor locker rooms. "Just winded."
The sound of the Slytherin laughter was shut off when they closed the locker room door. Ron was eyeing him closely. "Ron," Ginny said, coming to Harry's rescue, "hurry up. You have to help write that letter to Mum. You've got all tomorrow's homework finished, right?"
"Yeah, we finished it this afternoon," said Ron. He stopped fiddling around, and headed for the showers in the boys' half of the locker room. Harry followed, more slowly.
When he got there, his shower was quick, and he didn't waste any time getting dressed. When Ron came over to him, and tried to look nonchalant about it, Harry said, "I haven't got any new bruises, Ron, I'm just a bit sore."
"All right then," said Ron, walking over to his things.
The team trickled out of the locker rooms as soon as they had finished. Harry told Ron not to wait for him; as the team captain, he had to make sure everything was in order before he left, and he felt like doing it alone today. Ron went, but he didn't look very happy about it.
When Harry left the locker room, shutting the door behind him, the Slytherins had just finished leaving theirs, where they had been discussing their tactics. At the edge of the field, Harry saw Draco look over and notice him. He heard Draco tell his captain he'd left something in the locker room; saw him jog in that direction. Harry went to meet him halfway.
"Come on," said Draco quietly, making sure none of the others were looking. "In here." He pulled Harry into the Slytherin locker room. He dragged him all the way to the back of it.
"Why here?" said Harry grimacing. "What do you want?"
"This is the last place they think you would come. I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"All right?"
"Yes," said Draco impatiently. "Those Bludgers must have hurt."
"They did," said Harry. He wasn't feeling very sympathetic toward Draco's feelings just now. "Did you think it was funny?"
"Of course not," said Draco. A shadow was in his eyes. "I don't want to see them hurt you, Harry. I just don't know what I can do about it."
Harry sighed. He was tired of all these stupid games. Tired of hurting all over. He had only been hiding for a week, and already was so tired.
"Let me see, Harry," said Draco. "Let me see them." Harry sighed again, and admitted defeat. He hunched his shoulders, but reached for his robes.
"Malfoy! Malfoy!" a Slytherin voice yelled. Both of them jumped. Footsteps sounded in the doorway of the locker room. "Over here," Draco hissed, and pulled Harry into a decent hiding place, in the shadows behind the case for the Quidditch robes. A burly fourth year jogged into the room. "Malfoy, hurry up. Captain wants us all out there."
"Right," grunted Draco. He followed the other Slytherin, but flicked a look backward at the door. Harry waited a full minute to be sure they were gone, then he crept out from his hidey-hole. He walked quietly to the outer door of the locker room, and peered out. He had a full view of the Slytherin Quidditch team practicing on the pitch. There was a glaring light too close to the door for Harry to use the shadows to escape. And he didn't want the Slytherin team to find him creeping out of their locker room. He sighed and went back to sit on a bench.
The time passed slowly; Harry rubbed his aching muscles as he listened to the muddled commands and positions. About an hour the later Harry heard the call for them all to dismount, and the noise increased as the team grew closer to the locker rooms. Harry went quickly back to the corner were he crouched down in the shadow of the case. He pulled himself back as far as possible, so there was no chance he could be seen.
The boisterous team was right behind him. They joked and yelled back and forth. In just a few minutes, the all-boy team was walking past Harry's hiding place to the showers. Harry got to listen to their humor; the sick jokes that teenage males make, and jokes that made his blood boil till he wanted to jump out and wring their necks. He didn't hear much from Draco. A team member echoed his thoughts.
"Why aren't you saying anything, Malfoy?" said one of the team
"Oh, he must have a new girlfriend," said another, laughing.
"Like I'd let a girl get to me that bad," Malfoy drawled.
"Mr. Cool over there is probably just planning something for our Gryffindor friends."
"So it's a Gryffindor girl that's gotten to you, is it, Malfoy. Just think, maybe it's Granger!" The boy guffawed and then did a horrible impression of Harry's friend.
"Granger's nothing," said Draco. "This is about Potter."
This delighted the rest of the team. "What's your next plan, Malfoy?" "Got anything good lined up?"
The captain of the team spoke up; "I like what you did to Potter last week. You think you could manage that again before our next Quidditch match, Draco?"
"You think we can't win this ourselves?" Malfoy asked coldly. "Besides, I have something even better planned." This got some appreciative noises. The other team members called out, wanting to know what it was. But judging by their disappointed noises, Malfoy wasn't telling.
Soon the showers had shut off one by one, and the team paraded past Harry's hiding spot, dripping and snapping towels at one another. Harry grimaced. He waited while the Slytherins got dressed and began to leave. Some lingered, and one came running back for something he had forgotten. It seemed like he had been waiting for years before Draco appeared, kneeling down at the edge of case.
Harry began to get up, but too many of his muscles fought back. He groaned and settled back on the ground again. His leg and shoulder muscles had all cramped up; Quidditch practice and sitting too long had made him stiff and sore. Draco, looking anxious, scouted forward and reached for Harry's hand. He helped him slide out into the room, pulled him over and onto a bench. Harry didn't fight against him; he was too sore and too tired. Right now he didn't want to face Draco. He wanted to think of him as Malfoy, the Slytherin, the enemy. But Draco did care, and at the moment he was concerned for Harry.
"Take off your robes, Harry," Draco said. He had held Harry against him when they sat down on the bench, and Harry hadn't pulled away yet. Draco squeezed his wrapped arms around Harry when he didn't get any response. "Let me see them, Harry. I just want to help."
Harry held still in his arms, then drew a deep breath. He pulled away a bit, just enough to reach up for his robes. He slid them off his shoulders, shook them off his arms. Draco made to help, but Harry shrugged him off. Draco let him be.
Harry's eyes were focused on the floor. The robes fell around his waist and he put his hands to the bottom of his shirt. He gave it a child- like tug, pulling it down further. Draco reached again, and placed his hands beside Harry's. Draco pulled Harry's shirt out of his belt, and coaxed him to pull it up.
"Come on," Draco whispered. Harry took hold of the shirt by himself, pulled it up over his head. Draco couldn't think of anything to say; his eyes blurred as he tried to reconcile the sight of Harry's bruises.
It hurt Harry to look at Draco's half expressionless, half upset face. But he leveled his gaze to look in Draco's eyes. "There you go," he told Draco. "This is why I hurt." He held his arms up so Draco could see better. "But I suppose I'm just a wimp. The Prince of Slytherin's certainly lived through worse than this."
"Don't talk about yourself that way," said Draco with a critical frown. He pulled Harry's arms down to his sides, and held them there. "Pain is nothing to joke about." He was running his fingers along Harry's sides, outlining the edges of the bruises.
"It looks worse than it is," said Harry self-consciously. "Madame Pomfrey gave me some potions for them, and for the injuries behind them. I'm not sure it lasts very long, though. The old ones are hurting again."
"These, right?" said Draco, touching his fingertips lightly on a few yellowing ones.
"Yes," said Harry.
"It was a rough game," Draco stated. He was still moving his fingers along Harry's skin. He ran them along to the borders of the large purple ones from Tuesday's; Harry sucked his breath in through his teeth. "Are these from the other day?"
"Yes...they're worse," Harry said.
"How did you get them at your own practice?"
"It was just an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Harry sighed. "They really hurt."
Draco rested his hands on Harry's skin. "I know some potions that might help."
Harry looked confused, "Potions?"
"Ones that Madame Pomfrey might not know," said Draco carefully looking up, trying to show his good intent.
"Dark magic?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"Not Dark magic," Draco sighed, "but handed down to me in sort of the same way. It's not harmful, I swear." The suspicion in Harry's eyes abated slightly.
"And I've thought of something else I can do for you," Draco said. He slid closer to Harry on the bench, and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. He began lightly massaging them.
"Sounds good," said Harry attempting to keep his voice level at the soothing kneading.
"Well if you agree, then I want to be somewhere more comfortable. A hard bench is no place to give a massage, and this is too open for my taste. Anyone might come along."
"The window seat, then?" Harry said, leaning forward as Draco removed his hands.
"That's not much better than this," said Draco. "It's out in the open and it's just a different kind of bench. I was thinking—" Right now Draco's brain was thinking, 'Proceed with caution!' "—that we could use my room." He could see Harry's face, but he couldn't figure out his reaction. He waited for Harry's answer.
"Well, I don't know about Slytherins," said Harry slowly, "but my bed is in a dorm, and don't see how that would be more private than this."
Draco sighed in relief. "Since only the Slytherins use the dungeons, there's plenty of space. All the Slytherin prefects get their own bedroom and bathroom."
Harry nodded. "Let's go then," he said. Draco leaned back to watch him pull his shirt and his robes back on. Then they both stood up.
"The only thing I haven't figured out," Draco said as they walked to the locker room door, "is how to get you through the Slytherin common room. With me, no less."
Harry leaned against the door-jam to think. After a moment he spoke up. "I think what I need is my invisibility cloak." He pulled out his wand. "Accio invisibility cloak!"
They stood in the dark, waiting quietly. The wind ruffled Harry's black hair to make it messier than usual. It tugged Draco's across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. The lights from the pitch made it shine more yellow blonde, and the waning moon made the back of it glow silvery. The November wind was chill as they stood, but neither shivered, and they didn't move any closer as they waited for the cloak.
It came in a gust of wind and dropped at their feet. Harry bent down to pick it up. Draco felt a bout of panic rise in his throat. "How will I know where you are? I don't want to step on you, or leave you behind," he said. He held back a blush at how anxious it sounded.
"I keep a hand on your back, so you'll know I'm there," Harry said. He was about to fling on the cloak. Draco could see his eyes, and saw a smile in them. Warm and comfortable, not mocking or sarcastic or cynical. Then Harry said, "Besides, I wouldn't want to get lost on the way to a Slytherin bedroom. I might 'accidentally' go into the wrong one. Like Zabini's, or Pansy's." He put on the cloak.
Draco rolled his eyes. Beside him he heard Harry laugh. But he couldn't see Harry; it was an eerie feeling. A moment later, one of Harry's hands was resting lightly on his back. "So weird..." said Draco as they set off toward the castle.
They had only gone a few yards when Draco stopped. "You won't do anything to me, will you?" he asked.
"What did you have in mind?" said Harry in a low voice, right into Draco's ear. Draco had only heard him use that tone once or twice before, in passing. Draco wondered if Harry had any idea what that voice did to him. He also wondered if he ever made Harry feel the same. Because when he heard it, he wanted to pull the cloak right off Harry and kiss him good.
"Several things had occurred to me," Draco said meekly.
"Don't worry Draco. I wouldn't rape you unless you could see me," said Harry smoothly in the same low voice, only half joking.
"That's a relief," Draco muttered sarcastically. "Just keep your hands where they belong." Harry laughed behind him, in his normal tone. They continued on their way to the castle.
Once inside they descended the stairs into the cold dungeons and Draco showed Harry where the Slytherin common room was. Draco gave the password, "Monkshood," and the stone door slid open. They scooted inside and walked between the straight back chairs, and tables with a few students working on their homework. The Quidditch captain, seated near the fire, saw Draco come in. "Malfoy," he yelled, "what kept you so long?"
"He had to finish up his trap for Potter," laughed another boy, who was sitting on a couch opposite, with some girl wrapped around him, kissing his face and neck.
Draco gave a small, cruel Malfoy smile and continued on without saying anything. He walked up some steps and under the arched the doorway that led toward the dorms. A few yards along on the right side another corridor joined with this one. Draco turned on to it, and Harry followed closely. They met one other person in the corridor: he nodded at Draco, and continued to the common room. The corridor twisted back and forth, but didn't branch out.
Draco stopped them at a door, and said his own password. "Moonlight." The door swung inward silently, and Harry and Draco walked inside.
"I could find that again," said Harry's disembodied voice over his shoulder. The hand dropped from his back, leaving a chill spot.
"Twelfth door on the left," said Draco, turning around to find Harry looking all around the room. A big four-poster bed stood not too far in front of them. The door to the washroom was on right-hand wall, a desk against the corridor wall. A wardrobe stood across from the bed, with chests beside it. "Thank you," Draco said softly.
"Huh?" Harry asked, none too brightly. He had no idea what Draco was talking about.
"You could have humiliated me one way or another in front of all those Slytherins," Draco said, "but you didn't."
Harry left the invisibility cloak in a pile by the door. He sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "Of course not. I want you to be able to fit in with them. I wouldn't do that Draco," he said.
"I know. It's one of the things I love about you," Draco said with a smile. He cupped his hand around Harry's jaw, then flicked a bit of hair out of Harry's eyes. "It's in your nature to be kind to those you...care for."
Harry flushed and looked down. Draco sat back, a few feet away from him. The two of them couldn't think of anything to say, and Draco thought how stupid it was of him to be doing this. Right now, he should be helping Harry feel more comfortable, and giving him that massage, but he was sitting around tongue-tied like a little girl with her first crush.
"How about a shower," said Draco out of the blue, to break the silence. "The potion for the bruises will take me a little while to brew, and I bet you wouldn't mind it." Harry looked up at him, and Draco thought, 'Oh no, now he thinks I'm a pervert.'
"Uh, it's no big deal," said Harry, not really wanting to take one in Draco's bathroom.
"You sure?" asked Draco, getting up.
"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry awkwardly.
Draco walked into the bathroom and was busy with something that Harry couldn't see. He said over his shoulder, "I've got a bit of homework to finish tonight, and I've got plenty of plain shirts you could borrow for when you're done. I'm sure hot water would feel good on all those tight muscles. Plus," he said sticking his head through the door, "the hot water never runs out."
Harry found himself getting up. He walked into the bathroom. Draco had pulled out a new set of towels from the drawers. They were a deep blue color. He hung them in easy reach of the shower, and turned back to Harry. "Well?"
"All right. I guess it would feel good," said Harry, rubbing a shoulder.
"That's the ticket," said Draco, smiling at him. He walked back out into the bedroom with Harry following. He opened the wardrobe, and pulled out a drawer. Inside was a pile of folded T-shirts. Harry picked the top one and Draco closed the wardrobe. Harry walked over to the bathroom door. "Well, see you in a bit, then," said Draco, in turn walking to his desk.
Harry was just about to shut the door when he thought of something. "Draco," he said, "no one can walk in on us, can they?"
"Oh no," Draco. "I haven't told anyone that password, so the only one who could get in is Snape. And he never comes around." Draco had to laugh a little bit at the look on Harry's face. Then the bathroom door closed and he turned to his desk. He dug out an old tattered book from a desk drawer, then went to the chests to pull out some things he needed. A small cauldron, and all the ingredients he had taken his time getting. He brought the materials to his desk and set about creating a potion that would take the tenderness out of the bruises. While it brewed he sat at his desk and finished the last few inches of parchment Professor Flitwick had asked for.
Meanwhile Harry was enjoying a very hot shower. He didn't care about cleaning, he just let the hot water pour down his back and chest and let his thoughts melt away. Except for a pair of blue hazel eyes that drifted through his head, and little streamers of fine blonde hair flicking about in the wind. They had been in his thoughts more and more often the past few days. They were becoming almost as distracting as his hurts.
Hermione and Ron kept crowding as well. He hoped they wouldn't be too worried about, but he knew that they probably were. He couldn't explain to them anything he was doing here, and he would have to figure out some kind of cover. He felt he ought to leave so they wouldn't have to worry about him, but he wanted to stay here with Draco. For as long as Draco would let him.
Maybe he should tell them he had a girlfriend, he thought sarcastically. One that he didn't want to name. But he wasn't willing to lie that much to his two best friends. They would just have to live with whatever he told them, he told himself firmly. He tried to once again push all coherent thought aside and indulge in the hot water.
About half an hour later he shut the water off, and grabbed the blue towels. He dried off, and hung them up to dry beside Draco's inexplicably white ones. He pulled on his boxers, and then, with an embarrassed grimace, Draco's shirt. He toweled his hair once more, and then opened the door of the steamy bathroom.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter 5:
Harry managed to get through all of Double Potions on Thursday without staring at Draco. He barely looked at him. But just knowing he was sitting there across the room, was wreaking havoc on Harry's concentration. Luckily he was saved by having Hermione as a partner.
"Really, Harry," she said, "you never make this many mistakes in Potions. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Harry told her several times.
The Gryffindor team marched out to the pitch after dinner that evening. Dusk was gathering, and the field was well lit. Harry called the others to him when they got there. "We have to begin our practice on the pitch right away; the Slytherins booked the field half an hour from now," he told them. There were exclamations of dismay from the rest of the team. "It's stupid, I know," he said, "but there's nothing I can do about it. Snape approved their request, so we just have to live with it. Let's not waste the time we have." They flew into the air, and began their practice.
Half an hour later the Slytherin team showed up just on time.
"Aren't you lot done yet?" the Slytherin captain called out.
"Sure," said Harry, "we've had loads of time to practice."
The captain scowled at him. He turned to his team, said something the Gryffindors couldn't hear. Half the Slytherins laughed. "Let's go give some real practice," said the captain louder. The Slytherins were in the air in a flash. Before the Gryffindors could react, the Quaffle had been snatched out of their hands, and their Beaters jostled for position. The Slytherins flew about the field and a new kind of game was started.
The Slytherin Chasers made their way to the Gryffindor end. Ron caught the Quaffle, but he wouldn't release it.
"Hey, what does your Keeper thinks he's doing, Potter?" the Slytherin captain shouted angrily.
"We get your point. We're leaving," said Harry. He motioned to his team; they headed for the ground. The Slytherin captain smirked, and jerked his head toward his two Beaters. They zoomed off toward the Bludgers, then slowed sharply. Harry was heading for the ground and didn't pay any attention. Ginny, who had already landed, looked past him and shrieked, "Harry, look out!"
"Wha...?" Harry's head swung around, but he was too late. Two Bludgers slammed into him simultaneously. Harry groaned, and slipped off his broom for the few feet to the ground. There was laughter behind him, a lot of it. He didn't look to see if they were all laughing. He didn't want to know.
"Harry, are you all right?" Ron asked, white-faced.
"Yeah," said Harry, making his way forward toward the Gryffindor locker rooms. "Just winded."
The sound of the Slytherin laughter was shut off when they closed the locker room door. Ron was eyeing him closely. "Ron," Ginny said, coming to Harry's rescue, "hurry up. You have to help write that letter to Mum. You've got all tomorrow's homework finished, right?"
"Yeah, we finished it this afternoon," said Ron. He stopped fiddling around, and headed for the showers in the boys' half of the locker room. Harry followed, more slowly.
When he got there, his shower was quick, and he didn't waste any time getting dressed. When Ron came over to him, and tried to look nonchalant about it, Harry said, "I haven't got any new bruises, Ron, I'm just a bit sore."
"All right then," said Ron, walking over to his things.
The team trickled out of the locker rooms as soon as they had finished. Harry told Ron not to wait for him; as the team captain, he had to make sure everything was in order before he left, and he felt like doing it alone today. Ron went, but he didn't look very happy about it.
When Harry left the locker room, shutting the door behind him, the Slytherins had just finished leaving theirs, where they had been discussing their tactics. At the edge of the field, Harry saw Draco look over and notice him. He heard Draco tell his captain he'd left something in the locker room; saw him jog in that direction. Harry went to meet him halfway.
"Come on," said Draco quietly, making sure none of the others were looking. "In here." He pulled Harry into the Slytherin locker room. He dragged him all the way to the back of it.
"Why here?" said Harry grimacing. "What do you want?"
"This is the last place they think you would come. I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"All right?"
"Yes," said Draco impatiently. "Those Bludgers must have hurt."
"They did," said Harry. He wasn't feeling very sympathetic toward Draco's feelings just now. "Did you think it was funny?"
"Of course not," said Draco. A shadow was in his eyes. "I don't want to see them hurt you, Harry. I just don't know what I can do about it."
Harry sighed. He was tired of all these stupid games. Tired of hurting all over. He had only been hiding for a week, and already was so tired.
"Let me see, Harry," said Draco. "Let me see them." Harry sighed again, and admitted defeat. He hunched his shoulders, but reached for his robes.
"Malfoy! Malfoy!" a Slytherin voice yelled. Both of them jumped. Footsteps sounded in the doorway of the locker room. "Over here," Draco hissed, and pulled Harry into a decent hiding place, in the shadows behind the case for the Quidditch robes. A burly fourth year jogged into the room. "Malfoy, hurry up. Captain wants us all out there."
"Right," grunted Draco. He followed the other Slytherin, but flicked a look backward at the door. Harry waited a full minute to be sure they were gone, then he crept out from his hidey-hole. He walked quietly to the outer door of the locker room, and peered out. He had a full view of the Slytherin Quidditch team practicing on the pitch. There was a glaring light too close to the door for Harry to use the shadows to escape. And he didn't want the Slytherin team to find him creeping out of their locker room. He sighed and went back to sit on a bench.
The time passed slowly; Harry rubbed his aching muscles as he listened to the muddled commands and positions. About an hour the later Harry heard the call for them all to dismount, and the noise increased as the team grew closer to the locker rooms. Harry went quickly back to the corner were he crouched down in the shadow of the case. He pulled himself back as far as possible, so there was no chance he could be seen.
The boisterous team was right behind him. They joked and yelled back and forth. In just a few minutes, the all-boy team was walking past Harry's hiding place to the showers. Harry got to listen to their humor; the sick jokes that teenage males make, and jokes that made his blood boil till he wanted to jump out and wring their necks. He didn't hear much from Draco. A team member echoed his thoughts.
"Why aren't you saying anything, Malfoy?" said one of the team
"Oh, he must have a new girlfriend," said another, laughing.
"Like I'd let a girl get to me that bad," Malfoy drawled.
"Mr. Cool over there is probably just planning something for our Gryffindor friends."
"So it's a Gryffindor girl that's gotten to you, is it, Malfoy. Just think, maybe it's Granger!" The boy guffawed and then did a horrible impression of Harry's friend.
"Granger's nothing," said Draco. "This is about Potter."
This delighted the rest of the team. "What's your next plan, Malfoy?" "Got anything good lined up?"
The captain of the team spoke up; "I like what you did to Potter last week. You think you could manage that again before our next Quidditch match, Draco?"
"You think we can't win this ourselves?" Malfoy asked coldly. "Besides, I have something even better planned." This got some appreciative noises. The other team members called out, wanting to know what it was. But judging by their disappointed noises, Malfoy wasn't telling.
Soon the showers had shut off one by one, and the team paraded past Harry's hiding spot, dripping and snapping towels at one another. Harry grimaced. He waited while the Slytherins got dressed and began to leave. Some lingered, and one came running back for something he had forgotten. It seemed like he had been waiting for years before Draco appeared, kneeling down at the edge of case.
Harry began to get up, but too many of his muscles fought back. He groaned and settled back on the ground again. His leg and shoulder muscles had all cramped up; Quidditch practice and sitting too long had made him stiff and sore. Draco, looking anxious, scouted forward and reached for Harry's hand. He helped him slide out into the room, pulled him over and onto a bench. Harry didn't fight against him; he was too sore and too tired. Right now he didn't want to face Draco. He wanted to think of him as Malfoy, the Slytherin, the enemy. But Draco did care, and at the moment he was concerned for Harry.
"Take off your robes, Harry," Draco said. He had held Harry against him when they sat down on the bench, and Harry hadn't pulled away yet. Draco squeezed his wrapped arms around Harry when he didn't get any response. "Let me see them, Harry. I just want to help."
Harry held still in his arms, then drew a deep breath. He pulled away a bit, just enough to reach up for his robes. He slid them off his shoulders, shook them off his arms. Draco made to help, but Harry shrugged him off. Draco let him be.
Harry's eyes were focused on the floor. The robes fell around his waist and he put his hands to the bottom of his shirt. He gave it a child- like tug, pulling it down further. Draco reached again, and placed his hands beside Harry's. Draco pulled Harry's shirt out of his belt, and coaxed him to pull it up.
"Come on," Draco whispered. Harry took hold of the shirt by himself, pulled it up over his head. Draco couldn't think of anything to say; his eyes blurred as he tried to reconcile the sight of Harry's bruises.
It hurt Harry to look at Draco's half expressionless, half upset face. But he leveled his gaze to look in Draco's eyes. "There you go," he told Draco. "This is why I hurt." He held his arms up so Draco could see better. "But I suppose I'm just a wimp. The Prince of Slytherin's certainly lived through worse than this."
"Don't talk about yourself that way," said Draco with a critical frown. He pulled Harry's arms down to his sides, and held them there. "Pain is nothing to joke about." He was running his fingers along Harry's sides, outlining the edges of the bruises.
"It looks worse than it is," said Harry self-consciously. "Madame Pomfrey gave me some potions for them, and for the injuries behind them. I'm not sure it lasts very long, though. The old ones are hurting again."
"These, right?" said Draco, touching his fingertips lightly on a few yellowing ones.
"Yes," said Harry.
"It was a rough game," Draco stated. He was still moving his fingers along Harry's skin. He ran them along to the borders of the large purple ones from Tuesday's; Harry sucked his breath in through his teeth. "Are these from the other day?"
"Yes...they're worse," Harry said.
"How did you get them at your own practice?"
"It was just an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Harry sighed. "They really hurt."
Draco rested his hands on Harry's skin. "I know some potions that might help."
Harry looked confused, "Potions?"
"Ones that Madame Pomfrey might not know," said Draco carefully looking up, trying to show his good intent.
"Dark magic?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"Not Dark magic," Draco sighed, "but handed down to me in sort of the same way. It's not harmful, I swear." The suspicion in Harry's eyes abated slightly.
"And I've thought of something else I can do for you," Draco said. He slid closer to Harry on the bench, and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. He began lightly massaging them.
"Sounds good," said Harry attempting to keep his voice level at the soothing kneading.
"Well if you agree, then I want to be somewhere more comfortable. A hard bench is no place to give a massage, and this is too open for my taste. Anyone might come along."
"The window seat, then?" Harry said, leaning forward as Draco removed his hands.
"That's not much better than this," said Draco. "It's out in the open and it's just a different kind of bench. I was thinking—" Right now Draco's brain was thinking, 'Proceed with caution!' "—that we could use my room." He could see Harry's face, but he couldn't figure out his reaction. He waited for Harry's answer.
"Well, I don't know about Slytherins," said Harry slowly, "but my bed is in a dorm, and don't see how that would be more private than this."
Draco sighed in relief. "Since only the Slytherins use the dungeons, there's plenty of space. All the Slytherin prefects get their own bedroom and bathroom."
Harry nodded. "Let's go then," he said. Draco leaned back to watch him pull his shirt and his robes back on. Then they both stood up.
"The only thing I haven't figured out," Draco said as they walked to the locker room door, "is how to get you through the Slytherin common room. With me, no less."
Harry leaned against the door-jam to think. After a moment he spoke up. "I think what I need is my invisibility cloak." He pulled out his wand. "Accio invisibility cloak!"
They stood in the dark, waiting quietly. The wind ruffled Harry's black hair to make it messier than usual. It tugged Draco's across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. The lights from the pitch made it shine more yellow blonde, and the waning moon made the back of it glow silvery. The November wind was chill as they stood, but neither shivered, and they didn't move any closer as they waited for the cloak.
It came in a gust of wind and dropped at their feet. Harry bent down to pick it up. Draco felt a bout of panic rise in his throat. "How will I know where you are? I don't want to step on you, or leave you behind," he said. He held back a blush at how anxious it sounded.
"I keep a hand on your back, so you'll know I'm there," Harry said. He was about to fling on the cloak. Draco could see his eyes, and saw a smile in them. Warm and comfortable, not mocking or sarcastic or cynical. Then Harry said, "Besides, I wouldn't want to get lost on the way to a Slytherin bedroom. I might 'accidentally' go into the wrong one. Like Zabini's, or Pansy's." He put on the cloak.
Draco rolled his eyes. Beside him he heard Harry laugh. But he couldn't see Harry; it was an eerie feeling. A moment later, one of Harry's hands was resting lightly on his back. "So weird..." said Draco as they set off toward the castle.
They had only gone a few yards when Draco stopped. "You won't do anything to me, will you?" he asked.
"What did you have in mind?" said Harry in a low voice, right into Draco's ear. Draco had only heard him use that tone once or twice before, in passing. Draco wondered if Harry had any idea what that voice did to him. He also wondered if he ever made Harry feel the same. Because when he heard it, he wanted to pull the cloak right off Harry and kiss him good.
"Several things had occurred to me," Draco said meekly.
"Don't worry Draco. I wouldn't rape you unless you could see me," said Harry smoothly in the same low voice, only half joking.
"That's a relief," Draco muttered sarcastically. "Just keep your hands where they belong." Harry laughed behind him, in his normal tone. They continued on their way to the castle.
Once inside they descended the stairs into the cold dungeons and Draco showed Harry where the Slytherin common room was. Draco gave the password, "Monkshood," and the stone door slid open. They scooted inside and walked between the straight back chairs, and tables with a few students working on their homework. The Quidditch captain, seated near the fire, saw Draco come in. "Malfoy," he yelled, "what kept you so long?"
"He had to finish up his trap for Potter," laughed another boy, who was sitting on a couch opposite, with some girl wrapped around him, kissing his face and neck.
Draco gave a small, cruel Malfoy smile and continued on without saying anything. He walked up some steps and under the arched the doorway that led toward the dorms. A few yards along on the right side another corridor joined with this one. Draco turned on to it, and Harry followed closely. They met one other person in the corridor: he nodded at Draco, and continued to the common room. The corridor twisted back and forth, but didn't branch out.
Draco stopped them at a door, and said his own password. "Moonlight." The door swung inward silently, and Harry and Draco walked inside.
"I could find that again," said Harry's disembodied voice over his shoulder. The hand dropped from his back, leaving a chill spot.
"Twelfth door on the left," said Draco, turning around to find Harry looking all around the room. A big four-poster bed stood not too far in front of them. The door to the washroom was on right-hand wall, a desk against the corridor wall. A wardrobe stood across from the bed, with chests beside it. "Thank you," Draco said softly.
"Huh?" Harry asked, none too brightly. He had no idea what Draco was talking about.
"You could have humiliated me one way or another in front of all those Slytherins," Draco said, "but you didn't."
Harry left the invisibility cloak in a pile by the door. He sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "Of course not. I want you to be able to fit in with them. I wouldn't do that Draco," he said.
"I know. It's one of the things I love about you," Draco said with a smile. He cupped his hand around Harry's jaw, then flicked a bit of hair out of Harry's eyes. "It's in your nature to be kind to those you...care for."
Harry flushed and looked down. Draco sat back, a few feet away from him. The two of them couldn't think of anything to say, and Draco thought how stupid it was of him to be doing this. Right now, he should be helping Harry feel more comfortable, and giving him that massage, but he was sitting around tongue-tied like a little girl with her first crush.
"How about a shower," said Draco out of the blue, to break the silence. "The potion for the bruises will take me a little while to brew, and I bet you wouldn't mind it." Harry looked up at him, and Draco thought, 'Oh no, now he thinks I'm a pervert.'
"Uh, it's no big deal," said Harry, not really wanting to take one in Draco's bathroom.
"You sure?" asked Draco, getting up.
"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry awkwardly.
Draco walked into the bathroom and was busy with something that Harry couldn't see. He said over his shoulder, "I've got a bit of homework to finish tonight, and I've got plenty of plain shirts you could borrow for when you're done. I'm sure hot water would feel good on all those tight muscles. Plus," he said sticking his head through the door, "the hot water never runs out."
Harry found himself getting up. He walked into the bathroom. Draco had pulled out a new set of towels from the drawers. They were a deep blue color. He hung them in easy reach of the shower, and turned back to Harry. "Well?"
"All right. I guess it would feel good," said Harry, rubbing a shoulder.
"That's the ticket," said Draco, smiling at him. He walked back out into the bedroom with Harry following. He opened the wardrobe, and pulled out a drawer. Inside was a pile of folded T-shirts. Harry picked the top one and Draco closed the wardrobe. Harry walked over to the bathroom door. "Well, see you in a bit, then," said Draco, in turn walking to his desk.
Harry was just about to shut the door when he thought of something. "Draco," he said, "no one can walk in on us, can they?"
"Oh no," Draco. "I haven't told anyone that password, so the only one who could get in is Snape. And he never comes around." Draco had to laugh a little bit at the look on Harry's face. Then the bathroom door closed and he turned to his desk. He dug out an old tattered book from a desk drawer, then went to the chests to pull out some things he needed. A small cauldron, and all the ingredients he had taken his time getting. He brought the materials to his desk and set about creating a potion that would take the tenderness out of the bruises. While it brewed he sat at his desk and finished the last few inches of parchment Professor Flitwick had asked for.
Meanwhile Harry was enjoying a very hot shower. He didn't care about cleaning, he just let the hot water pour down his back and chest and let his thoughts melt away. Except for a pair of blue hazel eyes that drifted through his head, and little streamers of fine blonde hair flicking about in the wind. They had been in his thoughts more and more often the past few days. They were becoming almost as distracting as his hurts.
Hermione and Ron kept crowding as well. He hoped they wouldn't be too worried about, but he knew that they probably were. He couldn't explain to them anything he was doing here, and he would have to figure out some kind of cover. He felt he ought to leave so they wouldn't have to worry about him, but he wanted to stay here with Draco. For as long as Draco would let him.
Maybe he should tell them he had a girlfriend, he thought sarcastically. One that he didn't want to name. But he wasn't willing to lie that much to his two best friends. They would just have to live with whatever he told them, he told himself firmly. He tried to once again push all coherent thought aside and indulge in the hot water.
About half an hour later he shut the water off, and grabbed the blue towels. He dried off, and hung them up to dry beside Draco's inexplicably white ones. He pulled on his boxers, and then, with an embarrassed grimace, Draco's shirt. He toweled his hair once more, and then opened the door of the steamy bathroom.