Chapter 15: Bitter Sweet

Draco returned to the kitchen. He pulled out his wand, but paused before he cast the spell. Slowly, he returned it to his pocket and made his way to the table. Draco piled the dishes carefully in his arms and walked over to the sink. He riffled through the cabinets until he found some dish soap. Before he knew it, he was up to his elbows in suds, whistling quietly as he scrubbed the plates clean. A slender hand gripped his shoulder, startling him. Draco could see black robes out of the corner of his eye. "Yes Sev?" He asked in a clipped tone as he rinsed a wine glass.

"What are you doing? He inquired, his voice deep from sleep.

"Washing the dinner dishes."

"Yes, but why the muggle way?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Draco remained silent for a few minutes before replying. "Potter made dinner without magic." He said it so quietly, Snape almost didn't catch it. A small smile played on the potion master's lips. This is one of the sweetest things I've ever witnessed Draco doing, he thought as he walked over to the pantry. Draco was too focused on making the glass sparkle, he didn't notice Severus's smile.

"So," Snape began as he sat at the table with an apple, "where is he now?"

"Sleeping," he said slowly.

"As should you."

"I didn't think you'd appreciate the mess," he replied softly.

"I appreciate the thought, Draco. And I think Harry would too," Severus said cryptically.

"What?" he asked, his back still to Snape as he dried a plate.

"I think he'd like to know that you didn't use magic. It was very… Sweet." He nearly spat the last word, but Draco knew he meant it as nicely as possible.

"You're incredibly bitter, you know that?" He said as he spun around to face the potion master.

"Am I?" He replied with a smirk. Draco threw a damp rag at him. "Go to bed you little shit," Severus said, still smirking slightly.

"Goodnight," the blonde said as he made his way to Harry's room. Snape shook his head as he watched the door close without a sound.

"Damn he's falling hard," he muttered to himself as he stood and tossed the apple core in the trash. Severus walked to his library, grabbed a book, and sat on the couch. He read for a few hours before deciding to go back to bed.

Around three in the morning, Harry woke. His head was pounding and his mouth drier than a desert. He got up shakily and walked to the kitchen. Harry got a cup of water and drank a fairly large gulp. He regretted it instantly. Bile rose in his throat and he took off for the bathroom. Unfortunately, he tripped and fell to his knees. The impact jarred him too much and he lost his focus. He puked in the middle of the hall, silently cursing himself as he did. When he felt like he could stand again, he did. Harry regretted it instantly; the world was spinning. He put one of his hands on the wall for support and slowly made his way to the bathroom. Exhausted, he curled up on the floor and fell asleep next to the toilet.

Draco woke early and noticed Harry wasn't beside him. "Shit," he muttered as he rolled out of bed and put a pair of gray sweatpants on. He had just decided to go to the kitchen when he heard an angry sigh of exhaustion from the hall.

Severus heard a dreadful sound echo through the manor around three, but he was far too tired to care. He rolled over and fell back asleep quickly. Around five, however, he needed to use the bathroom. He pulled himself out of bed and shuffled down the hall. Severus was nearly half-way to his destination when a horrible odor assaulted him. He grimaced and proceeded on his way. Snape looked down just before he stepped into a puddle of stomach acid. "Brilliant. Scourgify." He tried to forget what he'd just witnessed, but it was impossible as soon as he stepped foot in the bathroom. Potter was lying in a revolting smelling puddle, curled up against the toilet. Severus sighed as he waved his wand once again and Harry was clean. He spun around when he heard footsteps behind him. "Draco," he said dryly as his godson appeared in the doorway.

"Morning, Sev," he replied, his voice thick with sleep.

"Care to enlighten me as to why Potter is cuddling with the plumbing?"

"Not really," Draco said nonchalantly. He tried his hardest to not laugh at the sight of Harry curled around the toilet, a small smile on his face as he nuzzled the porcelain. "I'll get him," he said quietly. He crossed the small room and picked Harry up—the Gryffindor was shivering. Draco stared at the floor as he carried his love past Severus and to his room. He laid him on the bed and tucked him in sweetly. "Stop running off, angel," he whispered to the sleeping raven-haired boy before him. Draco resisted the urge to climb into the bed beside Harry. He sighed and turned around to find himself face to face with Severus. "Erm, sorry?" He asked.

"That would be an acceptable answer," he replied darkly, but a smirk played on his lips.

"I'm sorry… I don't think he's ever been drunk before," Draco offered, trying to defend Harry.

"Understandable, as you're both underage," he said slowly. "But I suppose, no harm done," Severus continued and spun on his heel.

"What are you doing?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"I'm going to go make Mr. Potter here a Sobering Draught so when he wakes, he won't feel like shit," he replied smoothly, before disappearing around the corner. The blonde smiled as he got back in bed with Harry.

"I know you don't know what's going on," he whispered, "but Sev cares about you." After a few minutes he continued. "I love you, Potter. Haven't the foggiest idea how, but I do. School's gonna make it a bit difficult, but between us, we'll figure out how to make this work. I want more than just the Room of Requirement. I would love to take you on dates to real places. There's this great—Well, I guess you'll just have to see it when we go," he cut himself off, realizing he sounded a bit odd talking to someone who couldn't hear him. He shrugged as he pulled Harry closer and the Gryffindor snuggled as close as he could. Draco was pleased to feel that he had stopped shivering and was peacefully sleeping on his chest. "Good night, my prince," he whispered as his own eyes fluttered shut.