Title: Kiss.

Author: AspergianStoryteller.

Genre: Supernatural/General.

Summary: When a dementor tried to Kiss Harry Potter, it got more than it bargained for. And Harry did not walk away unaffected. Don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 11: Detention and Dreaming.

'Well, except during History of Magic.'

Harry arrived at the Hospital Wing that night around the same time as Draco, whose bruise was only small and light now.

The Slytherin was quiet as Harry approached. Earlier on he'd been called to Professor Snape's office to explain why he'd lost points and gotten a detention for fighting. Draco told Snape what had happened, and usually, Snape would reprimand him for misbehaving and try to hide his smirk because he did not like Potter at all. This time however, the Head of House had worn an odd expression.

'In the future Draco,' he had said. 'You would do well not to imply such a comparison. The Unforgivable Curses are no laughing matter and it is not just Potter you are affecting. You could offend someone important.'

'I wasn't speaking loudly Professor, and I don't see what's so bad about insulting Potter. He needs to be taken down a peg sometimes and you don't like him either.'

'Still, you don't know who might be listening in. Think carefully about the comments you make, the fights you pick.'

'Alright.' Draco felt uncomfortable being scolded like this. 'I had better be going now sir. Detention.'

'Off you go then. And Draco,'

The boy paused at the door.

'I mean it. Many people have suffered great losses to the Killing Curse. Don't make jokes about it carelessly.' The professor spoke with an undertone of pain. Draco left quietly.

'Come in boys.' The school nurse ushered them into the Hospital Wing and lead them to a cupboard. 'You'll be here for hour,' she said. 'First of all I want you to wash these vials and dishes. Then make any unmade beds, sweep the floor, wash the windows and then come to me.' She went to her office and the boys went to the cauldron-like sink tucked into a corner.

'Shall I wash or will you?' Harry asked. 'I don't think we're allowed to use cleaning spells.'

'I'm not scrubing those,' Draco said. He refused to admit that he was unused to doing any sort of chore, with magic or not except for school detentions occasionally.

'Fine. You can dry.' Harry tossed Draco a tea towel from the bench surrounding the sink the turned the tap on.

After a while Draco commented on Harry's expertise at washing dishes. 'Do you get assigned a lot of detentions Potter? You scrub like you've got experience.'

'I've had my fair share of detentions. But I do a lot of work like this at home too.'

'I heard you live with Muggles.' This drying dishes thing wasn't so hard.

'Yeah, my aunt, uncle and cousin.'

'I bet they're awful.'

Harry's eye twitched a little from the dreadful glee in Draco's voice. 'Most Muggles are okay but my relatives in particular aren't so great. They don't like magic because they're afraid of it.'

'Are they scared of you then?'

'Not really. They know I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school so I can't really do anything to them.'

'Too bad.' He didn't sound all that sorry, but Draco supposed he could pity Potter a little bit for having to live like that during Summer.

The familiar feel of hot, soapy water and rhythm of washing dishes, albeit the goblets and potion vials was oddly relaxing. Harry felt dazed in the almost heavy air surrounding him.

'If you can't use magic on them you may as well do something else sneaky and- Potter? Are you listening? Potter?'

Potter had a dazed, blank expression on his face. Draco frowned and flicked the tea towel at him. No response. How peculiar.

'Potter? Are you there?'

'Huh? Oh, what were you saying?'

'I was saying that you could play non-magical tricks on the Muggles. Weren't you listening?'

The Slytherin kind of reminded him of Hermione for a moment there. Smiling at the comparison, Harry said 'I was just spacing out.'

'Why? Do you tire of our conversation?' He sounded annoyed.

'I can't help spacing out sometimes.'

'No wonder you do so poorly in Potions.'

'It's a little hard to concentrate with Snape breathing down my neck and picking on me all the time.'

'Maybe he doesn't like you.'

'What gave you that idea?'

Draco (not that he needed help of course!) watched how Harry made beds before starting on them and didn't do much window washing until Harry saw in his reflection the bubbles placed on his head during his space out and threatened to wet him. When they were done, with fifteen minutes to spare, Madame Pomfrey set them the final task of bringing trays piled with food and medicine to the patients. Tonight those patients were a Hufflepuff girl, Hannah Abbot, a foreign exchange student who'd been Sorted into Grffindor, and an unfamiliar, yet familiar man.

As the boys delivered the trays they found out that Hannah had had an accident in Potions, the exchange student (from the Salem Witches' Institute) had turned her back on venomous tentacula for one moment, and the man was Colin and Denis Creevey's dad, staying over a few days to speak to the Muggle Studies class; he'd had accident on the moving and sometimes unpredictable staircases. Draco acted disdainful, but couldn't quite conceal all of his curiosity.

When detention was over at last, the boys were sent on their way back to the Dorms, with Madam Pomfrey telling them she hoped they'd only be back for Health class in the future. Harry and Draco parted ways thankfully without drama.

XXX xxx XXX

Why did he just keep it to himself? A little pain in his scar, for a few seconds, that's all it was and now Sirius was putting life, or rather, his soul on the line. Please be alright Sirius, Harry thought disparately. I'm fine, so please stay away. Don't get caught because of me.

XXX xxx XXX

'Not Harry! Not Harry!'

'Stand aside.'

Mum!

'Please no!'

'Avada kedavra!'

Tight, cruel, coiling, bright green, crimson red, hissing, high laughter and a scream.

'Lily it's him!'

Ron laying pale and broken on the hard chequered floor. Voldemort's face staring at him from the back of Quirrel's head.

Freezing cold, drowning in fog.

Hermione's rigid body in a hospital bed.

Dark and despair.

Ginny lifeless in the Chamber. Basilisk venom burning in his veins.

No hope. No end. Cold and heavy and light-headed. The dementor's fingers dug into his neck as it sucked harder. Its clammy, lipless gaping mouth was bruising his.

Alone and scared.

Trapped. He'd never leave this place. Stuck here alone, unwanted and forgotten. Weak and unrecognised.

Please let it end.

Harry woke up falling, screaming and gasping simultaneously. He hit the bed with a light thud, coughed and tried not to throw up. Darkness and remnants of his nightmare spun around him.

'Uhh,'

Harry used the dawn light to check his watch and confirmed it was early in the morning. Oh god, I don't want to sleep again now. The watch trembled, though it was probably Harry's arm that was trembling. Actually, I think I'll write a letter.

XXX xxx XXX

*Quoted from the book.* What do you think? Sorry if it seems like I'm rushing over things, I just don't see much point in rewriting stuff that's going to be the same as cannon. Tell me if I can improve that. Thanks for reading!