Disclaimer: Not-Not Mine. Not-Not Mine.

Draco groaned as their chests touched, firm flesh meeting smooth expanse of warm muscle. He arched his back into the touch, his lips ghosting over salty golden flesh, the thudding of the heart in the chest pressed to his a counterpoint to his own heartbeat. His fingers kneaded warm, slick flesh as they moved lower along the smooth back of the weight holding him down.

"Oh, fuck! Oh...! Oh yes!" Teeth nipped at his earlobe as that raspy voice hissed. "Yes! Fuck!"

Draco gasped as his eyes flew open. He groaned, squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands as he realized that his pajamas were wet. That hadn't happened to him in.. ages! And to think he'd wanked just last night before going to bed.

"Sooo... Interesting dream?"

Draco groaned louder and refused to look at Blaise. He didn't need to in order to imagine the shit eating grin he was probably sporting as he watched Draco writhe in discomfort while the mess on his sheets cooled.

Blaise snickered as he moved towards the wash rooms. "Better get yourself sorted or we'll miss breakfast."

"It's fucking Saturday!"

"It's pancake Saturday. Pansy's already in the Common Room."

Draco sighed and kept his eyes closed. Right. Merlin forbid they keep Pans from her scheduled binging. He listened to his heart beat calming down and thought about the heartbeat in the dream he'd just had. As good as everything had felt, he didn't want to examine the implications of the dark hair he'd been clutching right there at the end or he suspected he might start hyperventilating. As it was he'd been having trouble making eye contact with a certain Gryffindor who shall remain nameless.

Pansy was scowling and tapping her foot by the time they made it to the Common Room. Blaise raised both hands, palms out as soon as he saw her. "Not it."

"Traitor," Draco hissed, but Blaise merely smirked, used to that particular slur. To be called a traitor during the war would have meant a death sentence with very few questions asked. It amused the Slytherins to use it for trivial slights now. It was another way of exercising their freedom. A reminder that they had freedom to speak as they wished, to think as they wished, without fear.

Draco was saved from the hissy fit that was surely headed his way by another that appeared to be unfolding across the room.

"What do you mean his bed hasn't been slept in?"

Weasley shrugged as he stared at his girlfriend. "Just that 'Mione. He wasn't there when I went up earlier." Granger blushed but the frown didn't leave her face. "I didn't realize that the bed hadn't been slept in until I went over to borrow his Charms –er, book."

Granger narrowed her eyes at the obvious flub as Weasley shuffled guiltily. "We'll address you lying about your homework later, Ron. We have to find Harry."

Pansy looked at Draco out of the corner of her eye as they watched the drama unfold. "You going to tell them?"

Draco heaved a put-upon sigh, then raised his voice a little so it would carry. "Potter's in the Hospital Wing."

Granger paused in her interrogation of the other barely awake Eighth Years stumbling down from the dorm rooms and turned towards the Slytherins. "How do you know?"

Draco shrugged. "He was there last night." Then he grinned wickedly. "Last I saw, in fact, Pomfrey was busy putting a muzzle on him. About time if you ask me."

Both Granger and Weasley frowned, one puzzled and the other outraged. The Slytherins snickered softly in surprise. Draco hadn't baited the Gryffindors in ages. In fact, he was more likely to walk away in order to avoid confrontation altogether these days, rather than actively goading anyone.

Granger's puzzled gaze turned to Draco, then hardened as she pursed her lips. "He was fighting again, wasn't he?" It wasn't really a question.

Weasley bristled instantly, taking a step forward threateningly. "If you've hurt him, Malfoy-"

"Then he had it coming."

Everyone blinked. Weasley turned around to look at Granger. "'Mione?"

She scoffed and started collecting her books and satchel from where they waited on the couches. "Please Ron. I am fresh out of sympathy for that boy." She glared at Weasley. "You and I both know he probably started the fight."

Draco stifled his urge to squirm while Weasley grimaced. Technically speaking, Potter hadn't started this one. All he'd really wanted was to talk. Apparently.

Granger flipped her hair and nodded to Draco as she dragged an unresisting Weasley towards the exit. "Thanks Malfoy."

"Is Harry really in the Hospital Wing?"

Draco turned in surprise at the soft question. Goyle had a look of genuine concern on his face. Not that anyone who hadn't known him as well as this group would be able to tell.

This time Draco did squirm. "Yeah. But Pomfrey seemed sure he'd be fine after a good night's sleep."

Goyle stared at him for a second, then nodded. "Muzzle?"

"Potter may or may not have broken his jaw."

Goyle winced, being rather more intimately acquainted with that particular affliction than he would have liked.

Draco's grin was half smug, half sheepish as he followed his friends to the Great Hall. He shook his head at the bizarre reality of having to reassure his own friends that he hadn't done Potter a permanent injury and the incongruity of actually feeling almost awkward at having put him in the Infirmary.

Draco wandered the grounds aimlessly. He couldn't figure out what was making him so restless. It was a prickling discomfort he was used to, had been carrying around with him since the war ended, but it seemed to have worsened this week.

One reason could have been Potter.

Apparently whatever latest scolding Granger had given Potter had stuck. He'd pretty much left him alone the whole of last week after his release from Chez Pomfrey. No long, too intense looks, no sneers, no growling, no smirking, no baiting. Not even attempts to 'talk' again.

Which was all well and good, it was what Draco had wanted all along anyway.

What he hadn't realized was how much those things had become a part of his routine. Wake up, dodge Potter muttering under his breath. Go to breakfast, ignore Potter staring inappropriately, almost as if he was counting the number of bites he ate. Go to class, make sure to sit in the last row so he wouldn't have to put up with Potter drilling holes into the back of his skull with his eyes. All things that had irritated him no end when the year had started, but somewhere along the way he'd gotten used to them. Counted on them almost as defining what a normal day at Hogwarts felt like. They'd been missing for a week now and it wasn't like he missed the taunting and occasional shove. It was just that without those distractions he'd found himself with too much time to focus on other things best forgotten. He felt like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in forever and his feet ached from all the roaming around he had been doing this past week.

Almost as if summoned by the power of thought, a familiar figure swept by overhead as Draco passed behind the Slytherin bleachers in the Quidditch pitch.

Draco hesitated, then climbed up into the bleachers.

It took a couple of minutes for the wildly wheeling figure to realize he was there.

Potter didn't say anything as he landed neatly in the aisle next to where Draco was seated. For a moment they both stared at each other. When it looked like Potter was going to move away, Draco finally spoke up. "What's the matter, Potter? Granger finally get through that thick skull of yours?"

Potter winced. "Yeah... that did not go well. She used the jaw as an excuse to get Madam Pomfrey to take a closer look at my shoulder and convinced her that a couple of days of bed rest were just what I needed. I didn't get let out until Sunday night."

Draco thought about hiding his grin but figured the hell with it... It would probably piss Potter off just as much if he used his mask to hide glee as it did when hiding anger.

Potter cocked his head. "What're you doing out here anyway?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Flying helps me relax." Potter shrugged then looked at him expectantly.

Draco sighed. "I was bored." He raised a hand to rub at his face then dropped it mid-movement.

Potter's eyes suddenly turned very shrewd as he studied Draco's face. The look made him feel naked almost. He shifted in his seat. "What?"

Potter flopped down into the seat one over from Draco without warning. "Been having nightmares recently?"

This time Draco's voice was almost a screech, "What?"

Potter looked up at him then, shadows in his eyes and a solemn look on his face, pining Draco in his seat.

"I know all about nightmares, Malfoy. They get worse the longer you keep them bottled." He paused, checking to see if Draco would add anything. Draco couldn't have if he tried. His jaw was locked as if glued together. Satisfied that Draco wasn't about to interrupt, he continued. "So, want to talk about it?"

Draco swallowed, wondering how he should respond.

Potter took another peek at him but when he remained silent shrugged and made as if to get up.

"How do you sleep?" Draco blurted. He blushed when Potter looked at him and cleared his suddenly dry throat. "I mean, how do you get any sleep if you have nightmares all the time?"

Potter's grin was wicked. "I don't."

Draco scowled. "Thanks ever so. You've been a great fucking help."

"I'm serious. At first I was taking Dreamless Sleep nearly every night, but I've been cut off. Apparently it is important to the healthy development of mind and body to dream properly. Now I sleep when I can, but most nights I don't."

"Pomfrey?"

"Hermione. She means well. What's worse is that she turns out to be right much more often than she's wrong." Potter sighed and slouched. "In fact, she's rarely wrong... especially about things that involve reading."

"So, what? You're never going to sleep again?"

"For the foreseeable future at any rate." Potter gestured to his broom. "It helps if I'm too exhausted to think straight. You probably won't get the whole night, but it should be good for a few hours."

They sat in silence watching the clouds for a bit, then Potter snorted. "Look at us, having a decent conversation."

"If you want, I can bloody your nose."

Potter shuddered. "No thanks. I don't think I can deal with the pain."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You're squicky about a bloody nose all of a sudden?"

"Oh it's not the blood I'm worried about. 'Mione's liable to turn vicious when you push her too far. I did my time in the Hospital Wing, thank you very much. I'm not going back."

Draco snickered and they both lapsed back into silence.

"So.. Have you tried the Bromski Roll yet?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "No. Don't particularly have a death wish."

Potter laughed. "You'll never know till you try. I have the rolling bit down. Haven't been able to do that one handed thing yet though."

"That's the trick of it then isn't it."

The next Saturday Draco slipped out of the main gates and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. That week had found Draco coming back to sit in the Slytherin bleachers to watch Potter practice nearly every day. They didn't really say much to each other. Potter would practice and Draco would sit and watch. Afterwards they'd sit quietly while Potter caught his breath. It should have been strange, but the silence between them was always comfortable.

Draco generally tried to maintain his impassive mask though he was impressed in spite of himself. Potter's attempts at breaking his neck were paying off.

The Bromski Roll involved rotating your broom at high speeds and catching the snitch as you went past on one of those spins. Bromski, who it was named after, had managed to do the thing on a fluke when he lost control of his broom after being hit by a bludger, and now it was all the rage with up and coming seekers trying to duplicate the maneuver. The trick really was being able to do it in a controlled fashion, and considering the circumstances in which it was born, not even Bromski had been able to manage that.

Potter pretty much had the Roll down except with the speed at which his broom spun, it became unsteady as soon as he took his hand off the handle. He was forced to abandon reaching for the snitch to steady the broom or risk crashing altogether.

Draco was rounding the last corner around the bleachers into the pitch when he spotted Potter. Instead of the usual figure in the air zipping around, he was greeted by a rather large cloud of dust as Potter skidded to a violent stop at the other end of the field. Draco broke into a run.

"Potter? God damn it, Potter! What the fuck happened?"

The only answer he received was a soft groan and hitched breath. Suddenly, Draco found his own ability to breathe constricted. He knelt next to the sprawled brunette and tentatively touched his shoulder.

"Harry?"

Green eyes blinked and squinted up at him. "I think I broke something."

Draco sighed as he gently slid an arm under Potter's shoulders. "Of course you did. When have you ever taken the fucking time to listen to reason enough to make sure that didn't fucking happen? Just because some idiotic wanker invents new Quidditch moves, that is not an invitation for you to rush to try and perfect their execution."

The breath in Draco's chest kept hitching in strange ways, and he told himself it was because of the insane run he'd just concluded and had nothing to do with the wizard currently holding on to his robes.

Potter gave a strangled laugh as his ribs no doubt protested his new position. Draco ruthlessly quelled the thrill of pleasure that shot through him when he took comfort by resting his forehead against Draco's temple.

"You're fucked in the head. I hope you know that."

"Yeah, so I've been told."

Harry's breath hitched again as he tried to straighten and he gingerly placed his hand over his ribs. "Okay, recess. No more moving around for now."

"Potter. We need to get you to Pomfrey."

"Just.. Just gimme a minute. Something's actually poking me in the side here and that can't be good.."

Draco tried to tamp down on his almost overwhelming need to just cast a body bind and haul Potter off to the infirmary. Potter would never forgive him. More than anything else, he hated being treated like an invalid, and he hadn't point blank refused to go - which boded well as these things went. There was certainly no one who could actually talk Potter into going in for a checkup when he'd convinced himself that he was fine.

Draco snorted softly as he waited for the brunette to catch his breath. At least he wasn't claiming that he was fine this time. There was nothing fine about him. Well, unless you counted his gorgeous, golden looks. Or his laugh. That was very fine indeed. Or his eyes. Or his toned torso. The side of which was currently pressed against Draco's chest as he held the brunette steady. That fine, fine, chiseled, glorious tribute to all things delectable. Draco's mouth watered as he imagined running his tongue all over that-

He forcibly wrenched his thoughts away from their current progression before they manifested in the physical world. From Potter's current position there wasn't much he could mistake a sudden bulge in Draco's robes for. He contemplated the comfortable silence as a possible distraction from impending embarrassment.

Of course the reason why Draco was so comfortable in the silences around Potter could be because he was perfectly content to stare at him these days. Stare at him and come up with new wank material. He hadn't come up with anything new higher than an 8 in almost a week now. Of course back when he'd started rating his fantasies on the Malfoy Wank-Fest scale all scenarios that included Potter would be rated a 10. He'd raised his standards a bit since .. not the least of which he'd had to do when he found that somewhere along the way Potter had managed to snag the exclusivity for starring roles in his wank-tasies.

Draco shook his head to clear it of the images that tried to rise to the surface unbidden. Now wasn't the time. "Is recess over yet or am I going to be stuck here much longer?"

Potter woofed a laugh and then slid his arm around Draco's shoulders. "You're going to have to do most of the heavy lifting. I don't think it's a good idea to bend over at the moment."

Draco swallowed at the images of Potter bending over.. 'Not the time!'

"Right. Let's get you sorted. On the count of three then.."

The tantrum Madam Pomfrey had thrown this time had been impressive - even by her standards. Grinning ruefully Harry unzipped his trousers and wriggled carefully as he worked them down his hips. He couldn't really blame her - he ended up in the hospital wing enough without adding to those trips when it wasn't strictly necessary.

"Here. I've got the potions, and for Merlin's sake, would you-"

Harry looked up where Malfoy had just walked around the privacy screens Madam Pomfrey had set up around his bed.

"Oh good, Malfoy. Help me out with these stupid pajamas would you? Madam Pomfrey's insisting I stay overnight and there's no way I'm getting out of these clothes on my own."

Harry wriggled again as he shoved at his jeans while trying to remain upright and not put any pressure on the ribs he'd so recently had taped up. He glanced towards the blonde who still hadn't moved from near the screens. "Malfoy? A little help here..."

Abruptly Malfoy walked over and set the potions he was carrying on the side table with a rattle.

"Thanks. Ron usually helps out when I've managed to do myself in ..." Harry trailed off as Malfoy suddenly grabbed his shoes and yanked them off. He then grabbed the hems of his jean legs and gave them a sharp jerk as he took a step back.

Harry tried to keep the grimace off his face. He wasn't exactly in a position to be able to complain about Malfoy being too rough. He'd probably be in a lot more pain if he was attempting to change on his own.

"Here." He picked up the pajama bottoms from next to him on the bed. "Um.. If you just hold the legs steady, I can step into them."

Malfoy jerked the bottoms from his hand, hesitated for a second and then knelt on one knee, swiftly pulling each of Harry's feet through the appropriate leg.

Something in Harry's gut clenched as he looked down at the bowed head of hair that gleamed in the Infirmary's harsh lighting. Incongruous as it was with his current condition, the sight suddenly struck him as unbearably erotic. Heat started to pool in his belly as his thoughts started to detour towards all the other things that Malfoy's current position would make possible.

"Up, Potter."

The harsh edge in Malfoy's voice derailed his thoughts. Harry blushed as he put one hand on Malfoy's shoulder and pushed himself into a standing position. The pajama bottoms were hauled up in a no nonsense manner but a groan still slipped out as Harry felt the fleeting brush of knuckles on his thighs.

Grey eyes suddenly snapped up to meet his as the hands stilled at his waist.

"Sorry. Maybe you should have taken the Pain Reliever before we tried this?"

Harry just nodded. He couldn't think of another way to explain that groan without giving away more than he was comfortable with. He wasn't sure he wanted to be thinking the things that had been plaguing him in his moments away from sanity lately - let alone articulating them.

The hands that helped him remove his T-shirt were much gentler.

"Leave it. I'm not putting that on. I'll just have to remove it in the morning again."

Draco swallowed and moved the pajama top and the rest of Potter's clothes to the visitor's chair.

Potter exhaled slowly as he lowered himself to lie down in the bed. "Right. So much for not doing any more time in the Hospital Wing. I swear, one of these days Madam Pomfrey is going to get so fed up she'll toss me out without even asking what I've managed to do to myself."

"Considering the regularity of your visits, that's a distinct possibility, Mr. Potter." The matron swished around the privacy curtains and stood waving her wand over Potter's torso. His very naked torso. Draco tore his eyes away and focused on Pomfrey instead. Though she was wearing one of her sternest scolding expressions, her eyes were soft as they looked at Potter. Draco scoffed inwardly. Of course she had a soft spot for Potter. Who didn't? Pretty much everyone Draco knew looked at Potter with adoration, so why not the Dragon of the Infirmary?

She handed Potter two vials from the side table and waited until he downed each with a grimace, then pulled up his sheets and dimmed the overhead lights. Draco felt a pang as that splendid chest was hidden from sight. "Rest now, Mr. Potter. And if you know what's good for you, you won't try leaving here until you have been told to do so."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Madam Pomfrey."

She gave a rather unladylike snort and turned to Draco, curious but not hostile, like so many others involved in the War were. "You can come visit tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy. Harry needs his rest now."

Draco just nodded and then headed out. He paused at the door once to glance back. Potter's lids were drooping as he wuffled a little and smiled sleepily at Pomfrey as she fussed some more.

Pansy had been right about at least one thing. It certainly wasn't dull with the Gryffindorks around…

When Draco got back to the Common Room, he found the rest of the Golden Trio just starting to wonder what Potter had gotten up to.

He casually strolled by the couches where they were sitting. "He's in the Hospital Wing again." Draco smirked.

"What? Malfoy, I warned you! If you've-"

"Please," Draco interrupted, waving a negligent hand. "I had nothing to do with it." 'This time.' "Quidditch accident."

Weasley frowned. "Yeah right. Harry-"

Draco smirked as he interrupted again. "Was attempting a Bromski Roll."

Weasley's eyes widened. "Did he make it?"

Granger smacked him in the arm. "Ron! Harry's in the Hospital Wing and you're worried if he managed the stunt that put him there in the first place? Honestly!"

"But this is huge 'Mione. It would be major if Harry's managed it."

Granger gave an exasperated sigh and stood up. "Never mind. Let's go see how much damage he's done this time."

Draco thought about telling them that Pomfrey had said visitors tomorrow and that Potter was most likely asleep already, then bit his tongue. He wasn't in a sharing mood and he'd said all he was willing to say anyway. Any more would mean admitting he had hung around to check on Potter rather than hoofing it as soon as he'd dumped Potter's ass at the Infirmary. And he wasn't ready for a public examination of his reasons for that just yet.

The next day Draco thought about visiting Potter in the Hospital Wing, but each time changed his mind. Potter was no doubt surrounded by his adoring public and Draco would merely be in the way. Not to mention fodder for gossip considering the public history of the two. Draco hadn't mentioned the daily meetings out in the Quidditch pitch, and for whatever reason, Potter hadn't mentioned them to anyone either.

Of course, his reasons probably had more to do with not wanting to be nagged and scolded for risking his neck to try and knock himself into an exhausted stupor at the end of the day, and very little to do with thinking about the meetings as a secret shared between them. The thought made warmth wriggle in his gut. Another thing he was studiously ignoring these days.

Draco sighed as he rubbed his eyes. There were rather a lot of things he was studiously ignoring these days. And exhaustion from lack of sleep wasn't helping his cause any.

Someone dropped into the seat next to his. Draco blinked blearily up at Goyle for a second then gave him a half smile. "What's up, Goyle?"

Goyle hesitated then extended the parchment he was holding in his hand. "You got a minute, Dray? Only there this one thing I can't figure out for Charms."

Draco accepted the parchment but raised his eyebrows.

Goyle shrugged self-consciously. "Harry usually helps. Except he's in the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey kicked me out."

"You went to see him?" The question slipped out before Draco could school his tongue. Of course Goyle went to see Potter. They were friends and there was no reason for Goyle to have to hide that fact. It was probably expected that Goyle would go visit Potter.

"Uh huh. The essay's due tomorrow and Harry said that he would help no matter where he was or what he was doing. He made me promise to find him and at least ask if there was something left over from when we work in the library."

Draco smiled at the earnest expression on Goyle's face. No doubt that promise was the only reason he had even thought to bother Potter in the Infirmary. He wasn't the type to presume. "Sure. No problem. What do you need?"

Half an hour later, Draco was impressed with Potter in spite of himself. Again. A rather distressing state of affairs that had been occurring more often than Draco was comfortable with. But there was no denying it. Potter had somehow managed to not just tutor Goyle, but had taught him the basics of studying itself. As stupid as that sounded, it was really rather brilliant. Rather than just telling Goyle what the problem with his work was and how to fix it, Potter had apparently been showing Goyle how to catch his own mistakes and how to go about locating the information that would help him fix them. Which meant that rather than ask Draco for a quick fix, Goyle outlined, rather accurately, where he was getting stuck and asked Draco to point him in the direction that would help him find a way to fix the problem rather just asking for the correct answers.

It was genius in its simplicity. As many times, and as willingly as the Slytherins had helped Goyle with his schoolwork over the years, it hadn't occurred to them to share how they had arrived at the correct conclusions. Had they done that they wouldn't just be helping with one assignment, they would have been showing Goyle how to arrive at the same conclusions on his own.

As Draco watched Goyle flip through the indexes on several texts, another question slipped past his unruly tongue. "How is he?"

Goyle blinked, then his brow cleared. "Harry? He's good. Madam Pomfrey said he's doing as well as can be expected." Goyle grinned. "He's not allowed to sit up though."

Draco frowned. "That doesn't sound good."

Goyle just shook his head. "It was funny. Madam Pomfrey put a sticking charm on the bed cause Harry kept trying to sit up and that puts pressure on his ribs. Now he can only raise his head a little to drink and that's it. Harry was not happy."

Draco hesitated, not sure what he wanted to ask exactly.

Goyle reached out and placed a careful hand on his shoulder. "He'll be fine Dray. Madam Pomfrey said that he's more likely to recover faster this way than if she gives him free reign of the Infirmary."

Draco smiled a little as he heard the quotation marks in Goyle speech and turned back to his own homework. He still wasn't completely satisfied, but he'd figure it out later. After he was done with his essay. It wasn't like he was going to get any sleep that night.

Draco asked himself for the hundredth time what he thought he was doing sneaking into the Infirmary in the dead of night. After his usual wandering, rather than head towards the Owlery he'd found himself drifting towards the Hospital Wing without consciously having thought about it.

Now he peeked through the door only to realize that Potter must be behind the privacy screen at the end of the ward. He started to withdraw, the hinges of the door squeaked and he froze.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeat. Three-

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

The voice was soft but unmistakably Potter. Draco started to pull out of the Infirmary again and the door squeaked again. 'The fuck-?'

"Please. Is anyone here?"

Draco frowned. There was a pleading edge to Potter's voice that didn't sit well with him. Potter wasn't the kind to plead. He was more likely to make demands than plead. Without having thought about it Draco stepped into the Infirmary and gently closed the door behind him. He strode across the ward on silent feet – living in a house full of psychotic, paranoid, jumpy Death Eaters could teach stealth like no other real life lesson could. He hesitated at the curtained screens, then slipped around them.

Potter's eyes were fixed on him, his head bent at an awkward angle to look in his direction, almost as if he'd known someone was there despite how quiet Draco had been.

"Malfoy." Potter gave a sigh that sounded almost relieved and dropped his head back to his pillow, starring at the canopy.

Draco moved closer so Potter would be able to see him without cramping his neck. "Disappointed? I can alert the fan club if you want."

Potter blinked then and glanced in his direction. "You know what's scary is that there actually is a fan club here?" He snorted.

Draco's lips quirked without his permission.

"Sit, since you're here anyway. I don't think Madam Pomfrey should wake if we keep it quiet."

Draco remained standing, studying Potter as he looked back at him, debating the wisdom of sticking around. And then Potter smiled at him, with his whole face, and just like that the decision was made. Draco dropped into the chair at Potter's bedside, noticing it was already angled so Potter wouldn't have to crane his neck.

"Honestly, I'm quite glad it's you. I was expecting any number of Death Eaters while I lie here helplessly."

Draco stiffened and his left arm twitched involuntarily. As small as the movement had been, Potter noticed.

He snorted. "Okay, my bad. Death Eaters who're likely to want me dead."

Draco glared. "And you don't think that includes me?"

"Not just at this moment, no." Potter sighed with his whole body then, chest heaving, limbs twitching. "Did you know Madam Pomfrey stuck me to the bed and took away my wand? I haven't felt this helpless in a very long time."

Suddenly Draco's skin crawled as he heard what Potter hadn't said. He imagined being in the Infirmary, alone, at night, injured, without his wand, and unable to take cover or hide or defend himself should intruders show up. Draco's own heartbeat picked up at the sheer horror of the situation. If Pomfrey had wanted Potter to rest, that was the worst possible way to go about it. War instincts didn't go away just because the War was 'officially' over. Potter was probably more strung up now than he had been when in the middle of battle, because there he had control, had a chance to defend himself. Without realizing he was going to, Draco raised his wand and released the sticking charm.

Potter gave him a sharp glance. "Malfoy, what-" He interrupted himself and pushed up into a sitting position. Potter blinked at him for a second, "Oh." A slow smile began to grow in his eyes, lighting up his face, spreading until it felt like even Draco was enveloped in the warmth of that smile.

Potter swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, swaying a little. Draco jumped up and grabbed his elbow to steady him. The last thing he needed was an unexplained bruise in the morning. "Potter!" He hissed. "Don't make me regret this, get back in the fucking bed."

Potter turned that smile back towards him and he blinked in its glow a little. "I will. I just want to get the feeling back in my legs and arms." He shifted from foot to foot, flexing his knees and rotating his ankles in turn. But he didn't break Draco's hold on his arm, so Draco stood as patiently as he was able. In all honesty, he couldn't really blame Potter for his actions since he understood completely where he was coming from. For a long time, mobility was the first thing Draco ensured when he woke in the morning as well. It was habit borne of never knowing how fast he would need to move to avoid pain and possible injury. It had gotten better since he'd come back to Hogwarts. He trusted the wards he'd put on his bedroom door, and he trusted Blaise to have similar instincts. Between them, the room was as secure as possible, and Draco no longer went from deep sleep to instant alertness in the mornings. Or at least not always.

Potter finally stopped bending his arms and wrists and moved back towards the bed. Here he paused and lowered himself to sit slowly. Draco returned to his own seat when it no longer looked like Potter was about to fall over.

"Ribs still bothering you, huh?"

Potter grimaced. "Apparently I managed to shatter one of them rather than just a clean break. Something about the angle at which the broom jabbed me when I hit the ground."

Draco nodded but remained silent as he watched Potter lower himself back to the bed. Once prone, he exhaled and seemed to melt right into the bed as he relaxed. Draco had been right. Potter's entire body had been strung up from the forced confinement earlier and now it was as if all the stress had left at once, leaving him boneless.

Draco picked up his wand and swept it in a circular motion, setting up a ward around the curtained area that would blare bloody murder if anyone with evil intent to its focus touched it. As the ward flared blue briefly before settling into place, Potter smiled. He would have recognized the ward. It wasn't common exactly but one of those that were hard to detect and hence more useful when you were on the run. Draco would have been sorely disappointed in Granger's abilities if she hadn't taught this one to Potter and Weasel.

"Sleep, Potter. I'll keep the monsters from getting you."

Potter turned his head to look at him and this time his smile was sleepy as his eyelids drooped behind the glasses. "Night."

Draco shook his head as he settled more comfortably into his chair. Potter had to have been fighting whatever potions he'd been doused with to have slipped into sleep this easily. Some days he wondered if anyone really knew Potter at all.

Draco blinked awake as the chime of his alarm sounded inside his head. It was a trick he'd learned when he wanted to awake without alerting others that he was conscious. These days he used it to make sure he didn't get caught out of his bed when he fell asleep without realizing it. Straightening his spine and stretching to get the kinks out of his shoulders and neck, Draco studied Potter where he was sprawled. He had one hand under his pillow, as if reaching for his wand, the other hand flat on his chest, his head turned towards Draco, the way it had been when he'd fallen asleep, his glasses still perched on his nose, no doubt digging into the side of his head.

Draco had thought about removing them as he'd sat staring earlier, but then figured Potter probably wanted his eyesight in the absence of his wand and it probably wasn't a good idea to startle him by moving too close when he wasn't expecting it. He had no doubt Potter would wake in a flash when approached, no matter how deeply he appeared to be sleeping. He knew he himself would have.

Time to go, before Pomfrey bustled in and caught him here. Draco hesitated, then decided to leave the ward in place. It couldn't hurt and no one would notice unless they were specifically looking for it. Besides, he'd promised Potter. Sort of.

Harry blinked awake as he felt someone moving towards his bed. He shifted to orient towards them while attempting to shake the sleep from his mind. He hadn't slept this deeply and this well in a long time.

He scooted and sat up a little when he realized it was Madam Pomfrey moving towards him. She paused to see him sitting up and Harry winced as he realized that maybe he shouldn't be. He wasn't sure how he'd explain it and a quick glance confirmed that Malfoy had left already.

Then Madam Pomfrey smiled and moved forward. "Feeling better I see."

'Huh?'

She chuckled at his expression. "The sticking charm was designed to release you as soon as your ribs had knitted enough to be able to take the strain of sitting up again."

'Ah.' Harry hesitated, then just nodded. Anything that got him out of the Hospital Wing faster was to be seen as a blessing really. He smiled gratefully when Madam Pomfrey handed him his wand back and held on to it at his side while she did her check up. It was a relief to have it back.

She frowned a little as she looked at whatever her magic was telling her about his ribs, and Harry held his breath to see if he had his freedom or if he would be stuck here another night. Finally she nodded to herself slowly and looked back at Harry. "Well, young man. It appears you're fit enough to be let out for the moment."

Harry whooped. "Fighting fit!"

"I wouldn't go that far," her tone was dry. "And I'm letting you out only on one condition."

"Condition?"

"Yes. No flying whatsoever for the rest of the week."

"But-"

"No, Mr. Potter. I know you better than that. Those are your choices. Either you spend a couple more nights here where I can keep an eye on you, or else you surrender your broom before I let you out those doors."

Harry's face twisted as he tried to choose between two equally horrific sounding choices. In the end, it wasn't much of a choice at all really. Without his broom, he probably wouldn't be sleeping as often, but that was something he could deal with. What he couldn't deal with was spending another night in the Hospital Wing like the one he had been having before Malfoy had wandered in. And who knew if Malfoy was feeling magnanimous again. He groaned but agreed to owl Ron to bring his broom with him when he came to see him before breakfast. Harry took it as a sign of the special place he occupied in Ron's life that he would prioritize him above breakfast, and the thought finally made him smile.

"They let you out already?"

Draco was only half surprised to find Potter brooding next to the lake. He had most people wrapped around his little finger after all.

"Yeah, but they grounded me instead." Potter gave a wry smile at Draco's raised eyebrow. "Madam Pomfrey took my broom away until next week. It was the only way she'd let me out of the Hospital Wing."

"Smart woman." Draco hesitated, then abandoned the path and took a seat a couple of feet from where Potter was sprawled.

They sat watching the wind create waves on the lake's surface for a bit.

"Thanks for the other night, by the way. I meant to say but never got the chance."

Draco shrugged, uncomfortable with the gratitude. He still wasn't sure why he had. It had just been that the thought of finding himself in a similar predicament had been almost intolerable so he'd found himself acting before his thoughts caught up with him.

Potter twisted to look at him properly for the first time since he'd arrived, and offered him a grin. "And for the warding. It was still there in the morning."

Draco shrugged again. "Somebody had to make sure the monsters under your bed didn't get you." The words were mocking but Draco kept his tone light. For one thing, he wasn't in the mood for fighting. For another, fearing persecution while you slept hit too close to home for him to really ever make fun of Potter in earnest for it.

"Yeah well, thanks. Blaise said I could modify the Pauorem ward to follow me around as the focus if I wanted. Useful but a bit flashy, no?"

"Blaise?"

"Yeah. We've been working on Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Draco was silent for a moment, thinking about Blaise and Potter working together. Not that he didn't know that already. It just wasn't something that had completely registered as such. They were friends. They had to be if Blaise was tolerating Potter calling him by his first name.

"I just figured that if you recognized the ward it was probably cause Granger had researched it."

Potter's grin turned wicked. "Oh, 'Mione knows the ward. She was the one who taught it to me. But her greatest wish in life is to research everything. Which means that she's not as focused on any one subject. Blaise and I have made it our mission to out-research her in Defence. It irritates her every time we mention something and she can't immediately reference it. It might be one of the reasons I've stuck with it for this long."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "A little malicious for Saint Potter, don't you think?"

Potter scoffed. "Oh please. You have to enjoy the little things in life. And wheedling 'Mione in harmless ways where she can't disapprove is one of the pleasures of life. It's one of the reasons I regularly 'volunteer' in the kitchens."

"Why would that irritate her? And what the hell do you mean 'volunteer'?"

"She can't disapprove because clearly I'm doing something to 'help' the house elves. At the same time she suspects that I go there to skiv off when I want to hide given that the elves are more likely to be 'helping' me rather than the other way around."

Draco laughed in spite of himself and Potter grinned back.

"So what do you do to irritate the Weasel?"

Potter gave him a sharp look but let the epithet go. "Ron's not really built like that. He doesn't get easily irritated. Comes from growing up with brothers whose mission in life was to get under his skin. If Ron's upset about something then there really is something very wrong." Potter thought about it for a minute. "What about Pansy? What irritates her?"

Draco snorted. "Everything."

"Everything?"

"Pretty much."

"Come on. That's a copout answer. You have to be more specific."

"She schedules her eating," Draco blurted, then abruptly shut his mouth. Pansy might just slaughter him if she found out he'd been blathering about her eating habits to someone she considered 'fit'.

Potter snorted. "Schedules her eating? What does that even mean? And for fuck's sake, why?"

Draco hesitated. 'Well fuck it. It's not like he's likely to tell her.' "It's her diet therapy and she hates it when we tempt her off-schedule. In order to remain svelte, she can't binge eat sweets the way she wants to, so she designates days when she's allowed to binge on certain things. Ice cream, pancakes, chocolate, fudge brownies. Especially fudge brownies. They're the secret weapon we use when she's especially mad."

Potter was clutching his side and gasping while he laughed. "Oh that is priceless. I must remember to eat brownies in front of her on one of her unscheduled days." He dragged air into his lungs and settled after a minute, a grin plastered across his face. "Although, honestly, I don't know why she has to worry about something like that in the first place. That girl could eat brownies for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a month and still not lose her figure."

An ugly emotion rather close to jealousy curled through Draco's gut but he forced himself not to react. "Didn't think she was your type."

"Please. I may not be interested but that doesn't mean I'm blind either. That girl can sizzle when she makes an effort."

The frisson in Draco's gut writhed again and he tried suppressing it forcefully, though it was harder this time. Although that comment would at least guarantee his immunity from the wrath of Pansy if this conversation ever came up. They lapsed back into silence before Potter sighed and sat up with a grimace.

"I better go. I promised Ron and 'Mione I'd spend some down time with them considering we always seem to be doing other things these days."

"You schedule these things?"

"Kinda being forced to these days. What with school work and 'Mione's prefect duties and their couple time and my flying we haven't spent any time together just the three of us."

Draco stood up as well and dusted off his robes, falling into step with Potter as they slowly headed back to the castle. For some reason Draco was in no hurry to get back just yet.

He glanced at Potter askance as he watched him skip every third step as they walked. "Seriously, Potter? Skipping?"

Potter jogged ahead then turned around to walk backwards, grinning as he maintained the step-step-skip pattern. "What? I'm happy and I know it. Clap your hands."

"You're disgustingly cheerful, Potter. It can't be healthy."

Potter laughed as he skipped again. "You know what that means, don't you? You're not doing your job keeping me miserable, Malfoy."

Draco opened his mouth to retort when Potter tripped over a stone behind him and pitched backwards. Without thinking, Draco lunged and grabbed him around the waist. Pulling to steady him, Draco suddenly found himself with an armful of Potter, staring straight into his eyes, body flush against his own, his breath short as if he'd just run across the Quidditch pitch again.

Potter really did have some of the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

At this distance, Draco could make out the ring of emerald that darkened towards the centre in his irises. Without his permission his body swayed forward and their lips met. What felt like a jolt of lightening went through him, making his fingertips tingle.

Draco's eyelids were fluttering as they tried to fall shut when he registered the widening eyes he had been admiring not so long ago.

Abruptly brought back to earth he pulled back and winced at the shocked look on Potter's face.

He shoved, dislodging Potter and scrambled backwards. "I gotta go." He heard Potter dragging air into his lungs noisily behind him.

"Malfoy! Wait!"

Draco didn't look around, half running as he followed the path back around the lake. Probably also the reason he had no warning when he was tackled from behind. They rolled once as they hit the leaf strewn ground, Draco trying desperately to untangle his legs from his robe. Potter was having none of it. He was unceremoniously flipped over and Potter crawled up his body to straddle his waist, one hand planted firmly on his chest to hold him down.

Draco turned his head away and closed his stinging eyes. This was one time he didn't want to see the blow coming when the fist met his face.

A minute passed, filled with nothing but their breathing.

Puzzled, Draco opened one eye to peek, wondering what Potter was waiting for.

Potter's face was completely blank as he sat there, one hand in the middle of Draco's chest and the other held against his side at a strange angle. Draco opened his eyes fully and looked at Potter, studying his eyes intently.

"Wha-" Draco cleared his throat as his voice broke. "I mean-" Draco interrupted himself again as Potter's face broke out into a rather wicked smile. Suddenly, it was like the light filtering through the trees was catching his face differently, illuminating different angles, making it look alive, making his eyes glitter.

Draco swallowed, his breath a little short as he watched the transformation. This was the real Potter, raw, no reserve, no masks. But as gloriously gorgeous as this Potter was, he was also dangerous. Whenever Potter had this particular gleam in his eyes, Draco had never been able to predict what Potter would do next.

As he discovered a very short time later, this time was no exception.

Harry tried getting his breathing under control, if for no other reason than to reduce the stinging in his ribs whenever he breathed too deeply. What he'd told Madam Pomfrey aside, they really weren't quite ready for roughhousing just yet. Though the pain made it clear that this was really happening. He wasn't just dreaming.

He sat smiling, as he watched Malfoy. Wide grey eyes watching him warily, a brush of pink across his cheeks, his hair mussed with leaves caught in the strands, chest heaving as he tried to even out his own breathing. He'd never looked better.

There was a small fountain of joy starting to bubble up inside of Harry and he suppressed the urge to laugh madly, though he couldn't stop the smile that was currently pasted on his face.

He planted his other hand on Malfoy's chest as well and used both for support as he lowered himself carefully, mindful of his ribs. When he was close enough to feel Malfoy's breath huffing across his face he paused to study the wide grey eyes watching him. The mixture of shock, lust and pleasure he saw vying for dominance was encouraging.

Moving even more slowly he leaned forward and fitted his lips against the slightly open ones under him in an open mouthed kiss. He tasted the lips and moved back to watch the blown pupils and emotions flitting across Malfoy's face, too rapidly to read. But then Harry didn't really need to know every single thought that was going through Malfoy's head right this instance. He could wait.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeat. Three heartbeat.

All of a sudden Malfoy's hands were clutching his biceps and he was arching upwards to capture Harry's lips. This time the kiss wasn't as sweet. Harry gladly gave himself up to it, opening his mouth to give Malfoy access, his tongue meeting Malfoy's when it darted out.

Harry deepened the kiss as he felt hands wandering from his biceps to his shoulders, down his arms again, around his waist, up his back, clutching the cloth there. Harry reveled in the electricity being generated everywhere his body was being touched.

Without warning Malfoy surged upwards, clutching Harry to him so that he ended up straddling his lap. Involuntarily, Harry broke off the kiss and gasped as his ribs protested the sudden movement.

Malfoy's brow furrowed. "Potter?" He started to move away but Harry clenched his fingers in the fabric of Malfoy's robes.

"Ribs recess," he gasped out and Malfoy froze in place.

Harry smiled a little and planted another open-mouthed kiss on Malfoy's already swollen lips before going back to breathing shallowly in short gasps.

They sat like that for a bit, Harry straddling Malfoy's lap, his fingers tangled in the lapels of Malfoy's robes, Malfoy's fingers bunching the back his jumper, their foreheads together as their breaths mingled, watching each other and half smiling.

Their lips met again, eyes fluttering closed, otherwise frozen to avoid jolting Harry's ribs. Harry sighed into Malfoy's mouth as the kiss deepened. It was just as he'd imagined it. It was better. It was perfect.

Ta-dah! All done.. The boys are finally getting there.. Can anyone say holla! :P

Reviews please!