Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all. I own nothing.

A/N: I have gotten some complaints about how short my chapters are, and I'm sorry, but that's just the way I work. I'm sorry if this causes aggression in some people. Also, thank you very much to EmptyOrFull for her constant heartwarming reviews.

Chapter 13

Harry stepped into his dorm room, going straight to his trunk at the foot of his bed and pulling out a baggy pair of jeans and a sweater that Dudley had outgrown when he was ten.

"I'm going to the shower," He told Draco. Draco sauntered into the room and lounged across Harry's bed, smirking.

"Can I Slytherin?" He asked. Harry was struck dumb for a moment, Draco's words and the fact that he was lounging comfortably across Harry's bed, making him almost start to nod, and then remembered that he should think with his head, instead of another piece of anatomy. If he got in the shower with Draco, Draco would see him naked. And those scars on his back were just a little bit hard to explain away.

Before he could say anything, Draco laughed, a joyous sound that rang throughout the dorm, his head tilted back in jubilation.

"Don't worry Potter, your innocence is safe, I was only joking," He said, his gray eyes warm. Harry frowned.

"I really wish you wouldn't call me that," He complained.

"What?" Draco asked. "Potter?"

"Yes, my name is Harry," Harry said. It wasn't as if the Dursleys ever respected him enough to actually call him a real name, but the evasion of his name was too similar for Harry to like, especially if he was kissing someone and they couldn't even call him his first name.

"Alright then," Draco said. "Harry it is."

"Thank you," Harry said, going into the adjoining bathroom, only just barely hearing Draco grumble about stupidly grateful Gryffindors.

Draco lay across Harry's bed, astounded at how much it smelled like Harry. He supposed it made sense, since it was Harry's bed, but it was still overwhelmingly pleasant. He gathered up Harry's pillow and held it to his nose for a couple of seconds before forcing himself to put it back, knowing it would be rather hard to explain away if anyone else came back to their room.

Instead he turned on his side and allowed himself to bask in his happiness for just a moment. Harry bloody Potter had just kissed him. Snogged him, really. And Draco was pretty sure that this was not a dream, because if it was then Harry would have not refused his offer for him to join him in the shower.

That was okay though. Draco was more than willing to allow this to go slow. If that was what Harry wanted, that was what Harry would have. This could quite possibly be the best thing that had ever happened to him and he was not going to ruin it right when it was starting out.

Draco forced his thoughts away from Harry and going slow, shifting on the bed. His neck hit something and Draco dug around under the pillow, pulling out the worn book.

Swiss Family Robinson The cover sported. Draco glanced at the lavatory door and then away.

Reading would probably do him a bit off good right now.

Draco glanced up when he heard the soft pad of bare feet, tossing the book off to the side. Harry smiled at him and walked rather hesitantly towards him for someone who had just snogged him breathless.

Harry perched on the edge of the bed and held out the small vial of bruise cream that Snape had given him.

"Would you?" He asked hesitantly. Draco sat up and dipped his finger in the cool ointment.

"Of course," Draco said. "Take off of your glasses."

Harry removed his glasses and Draco moved closer, gently putting the salve on Harry's nose. Harry's breath ghosted across his face and he had to remind himself to breathe.

"What's your favorite color?" Harry asked randomly. Draco found himself playing along, mostly to distract Harry from looking so hesitant.

"Green," He said, not mentioning that until he had come to Hogwarts his favorite color had been silver. "What's yours?"

"Dunno," Harry said, glancing into his eyes for a second. "Probably red?"

Draco sat back for a moment and levelled a look at him. Harry blushed slightly.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"Where is your Slytherin pride?" Draco asked, leaning back forward and spreading more of the salve across his face. Harry opened his mouth to answer and Draco placed a quieting finger on his lips, ignoring the small thrill that went through him as he touched his lips. "What's your favorite food?"

"Treacle tart," Harry said. Draco committed that fact to memory for later. "What's yours?"

"Bangers and mash," Draco said. Harry laughed, a disbelieving look on his face.

"That's really your favorite food?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Draco said, a little bit defending. "Why are you making that face?"

"Well, just sometimes, you act a little bit entitled," Harry said. "And that is a very common folk food."

"I do not act entitled," Draco said, poking him in the stomach. Harry grabbed at the offending hand with both hands and a new question occurred to Draco. It was a little bit shameful that he did not know the answer to this one, based on how much he had watched the Boy Who Lived. "Which hand is your wand hand?"

"I'm right handed," Harry said, waving the hand across Draco's face. Draco caught it quickly and turned it around.

"What is this?" Draco asked, examining the shiny scar tissue that was shaped perfectly in words.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, pulling his hand out of Draco's grasp. Draco leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry's lips around his bruised nose, before pulling him to his feet.

"Are we going to Snape again?" Harry asked, resisting Draco just long enough to grab his glasses.

"You bet your arse we are," Draco said darkly. Someone had used Dark Magic against Harry.

Draco hoped Severus would use his Death Eater training against whoever did it.