Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything Harry Potter related, I just manipulated 'em to my wishes.

Warnings:In this chappie there's some language, a very minor sexual reference, references to cutting, and so on and so forth.

Chapter 10: Happy Holidays You Bastard (blink 182)

A/N: The song title really has nothing to do with the chapter, but I wanted to do a blink song and this one was cracking me up…so yeah. And I also haveta say everyone hope your lil hearts out for the end to the blink 182 hiatus pronto! 'Kay I'm done now…

DMHP

Harry paced the astronomy tower as thoughts of a certain Slytherin plagued his mind. Harry looked at the clock. 8:25. Dinner had been over for nearly a half an hour and Draco had yet to show up. The Gryffindor just sighed and continued to pace the astronomy tower. Harry decided that if Draco didn't show up within the next five minutes, he would leave. He wasn't going to wait around until it was convenient for his boyfriend- if Draco was indeed Harry's boyfriend- to spend time with him.

One minute passed; no Draco. Two minutes passed. Three minutes, four minutes, and five minutes. No Draco. Harry turned around to leave. He opened the door and standing there was Draco. Harry just glared and stormed passed the Slytherin, not caring why Draco was late. Harry's anger was quickly rising; his rage pooling in the pit of his stomach. Harry really just wanted to get back to his room so he could murder a pillow or something, but as fate has it, Draco called after him.

"Harry! Wait! Please come back! I'm sorry I'm late, I…uh…lost track of time." Harry spun around to face Draco, his eyes glowing with the rage he was feeling. Draco gulped.

"You…uh…lost track of time!" Harry said in a mocking tone. "Bullshit, Draco! I've been waiting here for over a half an hour and you just now show up! I can't wait until you feel like showing up! I deserve a little bit of respect from you and right-" Harry was cut off by Draco's lips on his.

Harry resisted a while, but couldn't help but give in to the sweet sensations of the silver-eyed boy's mouth. Harry moaned deep in his throat as Draco slipped his tongue into the Gryffindor's mouth. The slow, caring pace rapidly changed to frantic and needy. The two were touching anywhere and everywhere on the other's body. They both settled on grabbing the other's forearm, and as they closed their hands around the other's arm, both hissed in pain.

Both Harry and Draco grabbed their arms, cradling them to their chests. They stayed like that for a bit until Harry wondered what happened to Draco.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Harry asked, concern lacing his words.

The blonde drew in a shaky breath and said, barely audibly, "Another run-in with my tormentor. That's why I was late." Harry instantly felt guilty and was going to ask more about it, but Draco quickly turned the topic to the Gryffindor. "What happened to you?"

Harry sighed, shuffling his feet on the ground. Nerves were shooting through the boy's body, making his breath uneven and his face flushed. "Umm…well I just bumped my arm into a corner and it's still pretty sore." Draco looked at Harry suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"I don't think that's what happened. Now, what really happened?" Harry averted his eyes to the ground, racking his brain as to how he was going to get out of this one. Harry was concentrating on the floor so intently that he didn't notice Draco slowly making his way over to him until it was too late.

Draco was right in front of Harry when Harry finally realized that the Slytherin had gotten so close. But before he could react, Draco grabbed the other boy's arm and pulled up the sleeve, gasping at what he saw.

"You…you still cut yourself!" Draco looked up at Harry, worry filling his eyes. Harry quickly averted his eyes and nodded minutely. There was a long pause where neither said anything; they just stood in a very uncomfortable silence. A few minutes passed until Harry heard the faintest voice saying, "Why?"

Harry looked back at Draco, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. "Because it's the only way." Draco searched Harry's eyes, trying to figure out what the Gryffindor meant by that. Harry sighed and looked away again.

"Because it's the only way…to make it stop." Harry didn't have to look at the blonde's face to know that there was a flash of overwhelming concern and confusion before it was all hidden by a mask.

"Make what stop?" Draco asked quietly, softly rubbing his thumb over Harry's cuts. Harry looked the other boy in the eyes again.

"Everything. Just…everything. The guilt, the pain, the stress, everything." Draco's features showed the utter confusion he was experiencing. Harry just laughed bitterly, wiping a few stray tears.

"Guilt over my godfather's death, pain from all the shit I've gone through all these years, stress from knowing I am the only one capable of ending this war. Everything." Comprehension soon dawned on Draco's face. Draco remembered his father prattling away about Sirius Black and how stupid the man was. His father would even talk about Black when Draco visited him in Azkaban.

Harry just laughed again, trying to cover up his complete and utter pain. Too soon, though, his laughter turned to sobs and Harry was lost in a dark abyss. He didn't even notice when Draco wrapped his arms around him, holding him as they sank to the ground

The raven-haired boy sobbed for nearly a half an hour as Draco held him, rocking him back and forth. Eventually, Harry calmed down enough to remember where he was and what was going on. He instantly pulled away from the blonde, incredibly embarrassed of having broken down like that.

Harry got up and turned to leave, when a hand grabbed his elbow, careful of avoiding any part where his wounds were. Harry turned back around only to be pulled into a sweet, but demanding kiss. Harry's mouth opened automatically and soon enough their tongues were caressing the other, probing the depths of the other boy's mouth.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's back as Draco placed his hands on Harry's waist. After a few minutes of staying like that, body's mashed together, tongues entwining, eyes closed in pleasure, Draco pulled away. As their lips separated, their foreheads connected, each boy leaning their head on the other's.

Harry felt Draco's breath ghost across his lips, sending a shiver up his spine. A few moments of regaining one's breath, and Draco began kissing Harry's face, licking at the tear streaks left on the boy's face, trying to kiss away the pain. Harry smiled and hummed low in his throat, indicating Draco was succeeding in his attempt to kiss away the pain.

Draco quickly made his way around Harry's whole face, leaving no part untouched by his lips. The Slytherin's mouth strayed back to Harry's and they were caught in another fierce kiss, this one more demanding than the last.

Too soon, though, the kiss had to end as both boys hadn't mastered the skill of breathing through their noses for so long during such a mind-blowing kiss. The kiss dwindled to a few pecks on the lips and, in the end, a hug that was nearly a death grip from both boys.

The eventually broke apart, resorting to holding hands. They stayed in a completely relaxed silence, each feeling a slight buzz of true happiness settling in their stomachs. After a few minutes, Draco whispered to Harry, "What time is it?"

Harry cast a Tempus charm and was surprised to see it was nearly midnight. "Shit! I have to get back before Ron and Hermione start freaking out!" Draco just nodded and stood there as the Gryffindor started to pace the room, freaking out about it being so late. Draco rolled his eyes and decided to stop the boy's frantic rant with a short, sweet kiss.

Draco smirked as Harry shut up immediately, slipping his hand into Draco's once again. "I really do have to go, though," Harry said. Draco nodded again and pulled Harry out of the tower, escorting him to the Gryffindor dorms. As they neared the Gryffindor portrait, Draco leaned in to give Harry an innocent peck on the lips. Harry, though, had other plans

As soon as their lips met, Harry pulled Draco flush against him, opening his mouth and prying open the other boy's lips with his tongue. Not that Draco minded, though. They stayed like that for a good few minutes, until they broke apart, panting. Draco gave Harry one more kiss on the lips, then turned and walked down the hall, saying a quick, "Good night" as he left.

Harry was almost satisfied with the night until he realized that Draco had stealthily avoided the topic of his aggressor. Well, he wouldn't be getting out of it so easily. "Wait, Draco!" The Slytherin stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to see Harry. "What?" he asked.

"Come here," was Harry's quick response. Draco quickly closed the distance between them again, now only a couple feet apart. Harry started talking again. "What happened with…you know," Harry said, looking pointedly at Draco's forearm. Harry instantly felt the tension rise between them.

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco said stiffly. Harry wouldn't take that as an answer. "Well, you have to, Draco. This person isn't going to go away until you tell someone who it is and we take action. Now, who keeps doing this to you?" Draco seemed to be having an internal struggle due to Harry's words.

After a few moments, Draco spoke. "I can't tell you who it is." And before Harry could object, Draco closed the distance between them. They were just about touching, but not. The only body parts connected were Draco's lips to Harry's ear. "All I can say is," Draco began, "that you shouldn't be so trusting of those you think you know." With that, the blonde pulled away and walked down the hall, the infamous Malfoy dignity (arrogance?) lacking in every step.

Harry stood there for a few more minutes, catching his breath and attempting to look like he hadn't just been thoroughly snogged. He also had to work on looking like he hadn't been crying within the past hour. It was a hard task to do, but when Harry entered the common room, only looking slightly flushed and he gave the excuse of running straight here as soon as he found out what time it was.

Ron gave Harry a suspicious look as Harry entered the seventh year dorms, but Harry just said that he had been thinking and lost track of time. Ron accepted it and promptly fell asleep, loud snores disrupting the silence of the night. Harry then stripped off his clothes and got into bed, trying so hard to capture the sleep that always seemed to elude him.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, Harry eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, his dreams filled with images of Sirius, Cedric, and countless others who have died because of, well Harry believed, him.

Harry woke up the next day with his head pounding, his bones throbbing and his throat scratchy. As soon as Harry was fully awake, he went into a coughing fit, hurting his throat even more. After he (hopefully) stopped coughing for a good long while, Harry fell back onto his bed, groaning as his head hit the wall behind his bed instead of his pillow.

The raven-haired boy just curled up into a ball, a mantra of "Ow" running through his head. After a few minutes, Ron opened Harry's curtains, immediately yelling out, "Bloody hell!" which did nothing for Harry's headache. Yet, Ron continued at the same level of volume, "You look like shit!"

Harry managed to mumble out, "Feel like it, too." Before he fell into another fit of coughs, almost positive he would cough up one of his lungs any moment. He heard Ron yell "Bloody hell" again and scurry off. He returned a few moments later with a glass of water, waiting until Harry stopped coughing enough to shove the glass in Harry's face. "Drink," Ron said sternly, sounding a lot like Hermione.

Harry quickly obliged, gulping down as much water as humanly possible. Once Harry drank as much as he could before choking and going into another coughing fit, he laid back down, closing his eyes as the world spun around him. "Whoa, mate, you are in no condition to get up. You're staying here; I'll tell the Professors you're sick." Harry didn't have the energy to do anything other than nod slightly in response.

Harry distantly heard his friend telling everyone else to keep quiet because Harry's sick and not to disturb him. The green-eyed boy smiled at Ron's words, touched at how caring the other boy was. That is, until he groaned again before stumbling up, clumsily running to the bathroom. Harry tumbled over to the toilet and immediately relieved his stomach of all its contents.

Harry collapsed against the toilet bowl, all the energy drained from his body. Ron came in, dragging Harry to his feet and helping him walk back to his bed. Once Harry was back in his bed and drank some more water, Ron told Harry to take care before leaving for classes.

Harry quickly fell into an uneasy sort of sleep one has when sick. He woke up, he suspected, about an hour later. Having nothing else to do, Harry decided to do some well needed sorting out of his thoughts.

First on the agenda, his cutting. Harry knew he shouldn't cut, he knew how harmful it was, but he couldn't help but do it when the not-so-pleasant thoughts attacked his mind. He realized that the last time he had broken down over Sirius and everything else, he hadn't cut. Instead, he had the comfort of Draco's arms around him.

Maybe that was the solution to his cutting; instead of cutting every time he gets too emotional, Harry could seek out Draco and resort to the comfort of Draco's arms instead of that of a cold blade. Harry decided he would try it at least and see if it would indeed help him with his emotional problems.

As Harry remembered Draco's words at the end of the night, a chill settled over his body, and not an illness-induced chill. The Gryffindor's heart prickled nervously at Draco's last words. Did Draco mean that someone that's actually friends with Harry did that to Draco? Harry's heart rate increased a bit from his thoughts. If a friend, someone Harry trusted, did that the Draco, Harry wouldn't be able to figure out who. Harry couldn't believe that someone he trusted could do something so vulgar, so Harry decided to let his thoughts stray away from such a sensitive topic.

Instead, Harry opted to think about Draco. Ah, Draco. Harry couldn't believe how different the Slytherin seemed. Of course he still had that hint of arrogance, and his sarcasm was very common, but it no longer seemed to hold venom or hatred. It was more of playful insults and comical arrogance. Harry rather liked it.

And then of course Draco's body. Harry really hadn't seen much of it, but he had enough memories from seeing Draco in the Quidditch locker rooms that he knew that blonde was in pretty good shape. He was still lithe and thin, but he had perfectly sculpted muscles and washboard abs to die for. He was also pale, but it was a glowing, sexy and healthy pale.

If only Harry wasn't feeling so shitty…he'd without a doubt be wanking furiously to images of Draco right now. But alas, he was far too sick to comprehend moving at all, even if it would be extremely pleasurable. Harry quickly shifted his thoughts to something less…arousing.

Harry really was wiped out though, so decided to take another nap, instead of lying there thinking for hours. And Harry was exhausted; as soon as his eyelids closed, he was lost to the world of consciousness, fallen into the depths of slumber. When he awoke, Harry found a note on his nightstand. It was propped up next to a nicely chilled glass of water, a strange blue potion, and a few crackers.

Harry ignored the water and crackers for a moment and opened the letter.

Harry,

You were sleeping when I stopped by during lunch, but I thought you might be a bit famished. I wasn't sure what you could hold since Ron told me you were pretty nauseous this morning, so I just left some plain crackers for you. I also refilled your glass of water and spelled it to stay cold. I also stopped by the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey gave me this potion to give to you. It's supposed to help with your coughing. Hope you get better soon, and don't worry, I'm making sure Ron brings you all your missing assignments after classes today.

Hermione

Harry was warmed at the thought of Hermione being so thoughtful, but he immediately sighed as he realized he would have to do his homework. Curse Hermione and her obsession with keeping up with the work in class. Oh well, it would deem some nice hang out time with Ron later on. Harry realized he was a bit hungry, and thought he could keep the crackers down. He carefully ate the crackers, taking gulps of water in between, hoping it would help.

After eating most of the crackers and finishing off his water, Harry was exhausted again. He drank down the mysterious blue potion and then realized that he really had nothing better to do than sleep, so he fell back into dreamland.

The next time Harry woke up, Ron was just entering the dorm room. As soon as Ron noticed Harry was awake, he walked over (quite loudly, Harry thought) and asked (quite loudly again) how Harry was doing. Harry said he was feeling a bit better but quickly asked Ron to not be so unbearably loud.

Ron apologized and plopped down at the foot of Harry's bed. "Well, mate, Hermione made me bring you your assignments, so if you're feeling up to it, we could work on those right now and get them out of the way." Harry looked at Ron in mock shock.

"Ron Weasley? Not procrastinating? Gasp! What is going on?" Ron playfully punched Harry on the leg- it was the closest body part he could reach- and the both fell into a bout of laughter, which soon turned into a coughing fit for Harry.

"Oh shit, Harry. Take it easy." Ron grabbed the empty glass and went to fill it up again; giving it to Harry the moment he came back. Harry greedily gulped down about half the contents of the glass and his coughs, thankfully, settled down.

Harry fell back onto his pillow and propped himself up so he was in a sitting position. Harry agreed to do the homework right away, and both boys fell into an amiable silence as they worked on their assignments, the silence only being disrupted by the scratching of quills and the occasional question floating between the two. After about an hour, the work was done and the two Gryffindors were talking animatedly with one another.

Ron looked at the clock and realized it was just about dinnertime. "Hey, Harry, you feeling up to eating dinner yet?" Ron asked, already making his way to the door; he is Ron Weasley after all, food never has a chance to get cold with him around. Harry declined, feeling pretty worn out from all the effort of doing homework and talking. How sad that such little tasks could wear him down to a man of near-exhaustion.

Ron nodded and nearly ran out of the room, racing down to dinner. Harry turned on his side, and tried to go to sleep. A few minutes passed, and Harry was just about to fall completely asleep when he heard a scratching at his window. Harry looked up to see an owl with an object, he couldn't tell what, in his talons as well as a scroll attached to its leg.

Harry opened the window, allowing the bird entrance into his room. The owl landed on his bed and offered the object Harry now realized was a thermos. Harry grabbed it along with the note and fed the owl a bit of cracker left from earlier. The owl quickly took the food and flew out the window, disappearing into the night.

Harry closed the window, wrapping his blankets around himself even more as he grew colder, and opened the note.

Harry,

I heard you were sick and decided to send you some soup. It's regular chicken noodle, nothing special, but my mom used to make it for me all the time when I was sick and I thought it'd help. I hope you get to feeling better, it's not the same in class without you; there's no one left who's good enough to torment. I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully.

Draco

P.S. The soup is in this thermiss thing. It's a Muggle object that keeps things warm; I found out about it this summer while with some friends of the family. Enjoy!

Harry's stomach fluttered at receiving such a thing from Draco. It was so sentimental, he could cry, except he couldn't deal with crying that much in such a short span of time. His mental breakdown the night before was enough. Harry opened the thermos and realized he didn't have a bowl or spoon to eat the soup with. He was about to call for Dobby when a note fell from inside the lid of the thermos.

Harry quickly read it.

I almost forgot. Just pour the soup into the lid and it'll turn into a bowl with a spoon. I just drank the soup out of the lid, mostly, but I realize that most people like to use bowls and spoons. But if you want to drink out of the lid (which, I must say is pretty good. I didn't think it would be, until I tried it this summer) just use Finite Incantatem on the bowl and it will go back to being a lid. Once again, get better soon; I don't know how long I'll be able to last without you in class…and out of it.

Harry smiled at the last sentence, hoping now more than ever that he could get better so he could see Draco. Harry poured the soup into the lid and as it turned into a bowl and spoon, Harry decided to try it the other way and grabbed his wand, whispering "Finite Incantatem" as he pointed at the bowl.

It morphed back into the lid and Harry realized he rather enjoyed sipping the soup from the lid, instead of using a bowl and spoon. He'd have to thank Draco, for many things, actually.

Harry was still drinking his soup when Ron returned. Harry quickly hid the notes from Draco, but was unable to hide the thermos. Ron looked at Harry quizzically and asked, "Who brought you that?" Harry racked his brain for a good lie.

"Oh, umm…Dobby. He found out that I was sick and he brought me some soup." Ron looked at him skeptically.

"What's the thing it's in?" Harry could have slapped himself. It's a Muggle object; Ron wouldn't know what it was.

"Well, it's a muggle container. It's a thermos and you put soup in it to keep it warm. Dobby put my soup in a thermos because he thinks since I used to live with Muggles that I would…uh…appreciate the gesture…yeah." Ron looked confused, but it was mostly because he probably still didn't know what the thermos was.

Instead of pressing any further, Ron just nodded and started undressing for bed. As Ron crawled into his bed, already practically asleep, he mumbled out a "G'night. Feel better," before his snores yet again filled the air.

Harry didn't bother to respond, instead finished his soup and tucked the notes under his pillow. As Harry laid down to fall asleep, no thoughts of Sirius, his parents or Cedric plagued his mind. Instead, thoughts of Draco filled his head, giving Harry the first night of actually good sleep he'd had in a long while.