Unthinkable Thoughts

CHAPTER NINE

~

ON THE EDGE OF A WONDERFUL THING

They watched the school file back into the castle, and then stared out at the Quidditch pitch, which half an hour before had had a pristine covering of gleaming white snow, and now looked like, well, exactly like a war had been enacted on it. 

'This feels weird,' declared Harry, as they turned away from the window.

'What does?'

'This.'  He motioned with his arm around the room.  'This room.  These beds.  Our clothes not being in trunks.  No schoolwork.  No mess.  This view from the window.  It's all weird.'

'Well, I'm with you there, Potter.'

'How long do you think we are going to have to stay here?'

'As long as it takes, I guess.'

'As long as what takes?'

'Potter, I don't have any more answers than you.'  There was mild irritation in Draco's voice.  'You heard exactly the same explanation as me.  Maybe we will know more tonight, but until then I'm in the dark.'

'But you must have some idea,' Harry persisted, sensing Draco's rising disquiet but ignoring it.  'I know you've got more idea than me.'

'And how exactly do you know that, Potter?' said Draco, becoming angry.

'Because I can feel it!  I know you know something!'

'Well get used to it, Potter.  Just because you've got some sneaky way into my head doesn't mean I'm going to start telling you everything I know!  Work it out for yourself if you're that clever.'

'It is not a sneaky way into your head!  And anyway you can do it too!'

'That doesn't mean I want to be able to feel all your pathetic moods, Potter!'

They glowered at each other, and then went and got as far away from each other as they could, which meant that Harry went to lie on his bed and Draco went back to looking out of the window.  They were perhaps just fifteen feet apart.

The room was not exactly small, but hardly spacious.  It was just off the main ward in the hospital wing, at the other end from Madam Pomfrey's office.  There were two beds, not the sumptuous four-posters of their dormitories but the regular sanatorium kind with bars at both ends.  There were two armchairs, old but comfortable enough.  And one cupboard for their things.  A low table by the window.  And a small bathroom with a shower.  And that was it.

Harry turned against the wall so he did not have to look at Draco.  The ill-feeling simmered for a while until Draco turned round again.

'Hey Potter, that's my bed.  Shift your stupid Gryffindor ass to this one.'

'Get lost.  I don't see a name tag on it.'

'Potter...' Draco's had a hard angry edge.  'Potter, I am not going to be able to stand it in here if you carry on like this.  Get. Off.  My. Fucking.  Bed.  Now!'  He towered over Harry, glaring down, furious.

'What are you going to do, eh, Malfoy?  Fight me for it?' 

Despite Harry's words he could feel Draco was about to boil over, and Harry was scared.

'Ha!  You're scared!' sneered Draco.  'No fucking guts at all!  I thought Gryffindors were all about bravery!'

'And I thought that you might sort of be a decent bloke after all!  But no, you're just the malevolent bully that you've always been!  And to think I let you kiss me!  Fucking hell, what a nightmare!  Keep your filthy instincts to yourself in future!'

Draco raised his hand to hit Harry.  But mention of the kiss had stung him hard, like a solid punch in the solar plexus.

'They're...they're the same instincts as yours, Potter,' he stuttered.

Almost eye to eye, they fumed, unblinking. Harry was trembling.  Draco looked as if he were about to cry.  On the back of a wild instinct, Harry quickly reached his arm round the back of Draco's head and pulled his face towards him.  Draco resisted for about one tenth of a second, then felt Harry plant a firm, full, hard kiss on his lips, warm and urgent, but without any sense of the violence that had threatened just seconds before.  The tension was temporarily diffused, and Draco sighed heavily and sat down on the bed next to Harry.

'Now whose instincts are filthy?' he said quietly, but without malice.

There was a long silence as the anxiety dissipated to nothing.  Harry spoke first.

'Malfoy, I'm sorry.  You can have the bed if you want.'

'No, don't worry about it.  It's silly.  Let's not argue about it.'

'We haven't done very well, have we?' Harry sighed, with an odd sadness in his voice.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, half an hour.  That's all we lasted before it got out of hand.'

Draco looked at Harry.  'Not a good start,' he agreed.  'Perhaps tomorrow will be better.'

'Malfoy, I don't want us to argue again, but there really are loads of things I don't understand.  And I sense that you do.'

Draco said nothing, not quite sure how to respond.

'So,' continued Harry cautiously, 'whenever you want to start maybe telling me what they are, I'd like to listen.'

'Potter,' Draco said kindly, 'one thing at a time.  Today, who sleeps where.  Tomorrow, we move on.  And let's face it, today's issue was hard enough to resolve on its own, don't you think?'  He smiled at Harry a little sheepishly.

Harry smiled back.

'Hey,' laughed Draco.  'This is a nice bed Potter, but not quite as nice as mine over there I suspect.  I think you may live to regret your choice.' 

The glint in his eye shot acres of warmth through Harry.

'Regret my choice, Malfoy?' said Harry, with the slightest hint of flirtation.  He looked straight into Draco's eyes.  'I hope not...!'

They looked closely at each other, their smiles so infectious that the moment lasted for several minutes.

'Potter, I have to say that's the first argument I've had when the word malevolent was used in the heat of the moment.  Take two points for evidence of a decent vocabulary.'

'Two points, Malfoy?'  Harry grinned.  'Are you sure you can afford two points, after Slytherin just lost the snowball thing?'

'Right!'  Draco tried hard to feign seriousness, but he couldn't stop smiling.  'No more compassion!  You've asked for it now, Potter!'

He launched himself on Harry in a kind of playfight that was far, far more play than fight.  They both collapsed giggling onto Harry's bed, until they were as totally comfortable with each other's presence as they had been the night before in the rose garden.  Lying side by side, they both looked up at the ceiling.

'This is nice,' mused Harry.

Draco turned onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at Harry's face.  'I think,' he said, 'that if we're lucky, it might get nicer still...'

The mood turned serious, and Harry just knew Draco was going to kiss him again.  He felt the intention in Draco's head, and signalled his own willingness with his eyes.  But instead of kissing him, Draco reached over and gently removed Harry's glasses.  They looked in on each other's souls, no longer needing speech for communication.

After a long time in perfect stillness, Draco spoke very softly.

'How about this for a way forward, Potter?  We don't keep count of the arguments, instead we keep tally of the times we are not arguing.  On that score, we've managed seven minutes of hostility and one hour fifteen minutes of something much more pleasant.  We have made a good start if you look at it that way.'

'Ok Malfoy, that's a good plan.'

Draco nodded and smiled, and then, tantalisingly slowly, lowered his lips to Harry's.

'Oh God...' murmured Harry in the faintest, faintest whisper, before his voice was cut off by Draco's unbearably soft mouth.

***

'He's gone!' yelled Ron in desperation.  'He's gone somewhere!  There's no sign of him, and some of his things are missing!  Wand, clothes, some books, robes, his clock, even his pyjamas!  Where on earth can he be?'

The Gryffindors had arrived back at the Tower in the most buoyant party mood any of them could remember, but Ron had rushed straight upstairs to see if Harry was in bed.  Hermione had followed him, as did Seamus and Ginny who, in the excitement of the snowball contest, had only just noticed Harry's absence.  Ron stupidly looked under Harry's bed in case he was there, but the obvious futility of this action only made him more frustrated.

'Ron, calm down!' said Hermione, although she was worried too.  'There has to be a logical explanation!'

'There is a logical explanation,' came a calm voice from behind them.  The four of them spun round.  Professor McGonagall was standing there, looking half serious, half amused.

'Harry's gone, Professor!' blurted Ron urgently.  'It's just, I don't want to betray his privacy, but you've got to understand, he's not well!  I thought he was better yesterday, he even slept for a while, but now he's disappeared!'

'Mr Weasley,' McGonagall began, 'listen to Miss Granger for once and calm down.  Your concern for Harry is a credit to you, but there is no need to worry.'

'Where is he then, Professor?' asked Hermione sensibly.  'Do you know?'

'Yes, Miss Granger, I do.  Now listen to me carefully and don't butt in till I've finished, Weasley.  Professor Dumbledore has removed Harry from the school temporarily.  He is in the Hospital wing, where he will remain for the near future, as we try to coax him back into a healthier sleep pattern.  And after that we will work on his appetite, and his depression, and his other problems.  You do not need to worry, he is going to get the help he needs at last.'

Ron was relieved, but added, 'there is no need for him to be away from us, Professor.  We understand his problems totally.  We can easily help him sleep and eat.  Anyway last night he slept for about six hours!'

'Mr Weasley,' McGonagall sighed.  'I do not doubt for one minute that you have been a great help to Harry.  And I am sure that you all have worked out what is the matter with him, and are eager to help him.  But the problem is, he has not worked it out yet.  And when he does, he may get worse.  So the Hospital wing is the best place for him, where he can be looked after all of the time, and he can be encouraged to sleep at any time of day.  I know you have all been fretting for weeks, but you can stop now.  Rest assured he is in a safe place, and let your minds be concerned with other things for the time being.  Like your schoolwork for one, Weasley.'

Ron nodded reluctantly at her.

'When can we see him, Professor?' asked Hermione.

'Ah.  You can't, I'm afraid,' said McGonagall, pursing her lips.

'Why not?' demanded Ginny, alarmed.

'Because those are Professor Dumbledore's instructions.  No visitors at all for a week, and then half an hour a day after that.  So you can see him after supper for a short while on Sunday, one week from today.  And don't try to sneak in there before then, any of you, or the consequences will be dire.'

'But what if he wants to see us, Professor?' insisted Ron.  'A whole week without visitors, that's ages!'

'As I understand it, Mr Weasley, he has just been several weeks without talking to anybody.  Just let it drop, please, and trust Professor Dumbledore's judgement on this matter.  Besides,' she added quietly, 'he will not be alone in the hospital wing.  So you really do not need to worry.  Now go downstairs and join the party.  I have provided a few butterbeers for you all,' she smiled.

'Is it Malfoy?' asked Ron.  'Is Malfoy in the Hospital wing with him?'

'Mr Weasley.  I have said all I am going to say on the matter.  Now, a celebration party awaits in the common room.  Go and enjoy yourselves.  It's not every day we score such a satisfying victory against Slytherin House!'

There were smiles all round at that.  The snowball thing really had been fantastic.

'Pity Harry couldn't have been there,' moaned Ron as they trooped down the stairs.

'Oh, and Miss Granger...' added McGonagall just before they reached the common room, 'absolutely terrific performance this afternoon, I have to say.  The judges were all rather impressed with your battle skills.'

Hermione blushed slightly, but was secretly delighted.

***

It was some time later when they received their first visit from Madam Pomfrey.  They were still lying on Harry's bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in each other's thoughts.

'Gentlemen,' she said curtly as she entered, carrying a tray with two goblets of a smoky purple liquid.  'This room is equipped with two beds.  Deliberately so.  One of you will please move now.'

Reluctantly Draco got up slowly and dropped into one of the armchairs.  Harry found his glasses and put them on.

'It was not my wish at all that you two should share this room, but Professor Dumbledore insisted upon it.  However I will not delay in moving one or both of you to the main ward if I see fit.  Is that clear?'

They both nodded.

'Now you will please drink one of these each.'

She set the tray down on the table.  Neither of them moved.

'Go on,' she ordered firmly.  'I am not leaving until they are empty.'

'What is it?' asked Draco.

'A deep sleeping draught, just prepared for you by Professor Snape.  You will each sleep peacefully without dreaming for four, perhaps five hours.  The relaxant in the potion will stay with you for some time afterwards.  In time we will work on other ways to restore your sleep patterns to normal, but for now I am insisting upon enchanted sleep for both of you.'

'It's the middle of the afternoon!' protested Harry.

'Mr Potter.  This point is not open for discussion.  Drink the potions now, please.'

Draco picked up one of the goblets and carried it over to Harry, a gesture which pleased Harry no small amount.  Then, looking Madam Pomfrey straight in the eye, Draco downed his in one gulp.  Harry followed suit.

'Yick,' blurted Draco.  'What on earth is in that?'

'Sleeping potions are on the third year curriculum, are they not, Mr Malfoy?' smiled Madam Pomfrey.  'You tell me...'

Draco half-heartedly pulled a face at her, but she did not react at all.

'Good,' she declared, smiling through tightly closed lips.  She reminded Harry slightly of Hermione.

'Now,' she continued.  'Pyjamas.  Right now, please.  You have at most ten minutes before the potion takes effect.  Come on, in your beds, please.'  She busied herself with turning down their covers, and tidying their few solitary possessions on the table.

The two boys just stared at each other, aware that they had just reached a crunch moment in the presence of a member of staff and with only minutes to resolve it.

Madam Pomfrey sensed their discomfort, and found it rather endearing.  The Crimson Cloud is engulfing this pair like a fog, she thought, but they are coy about getting undressed.  It was sort of charming.

'Move, you two!'  Her voice was commanding, but her tone was not stern.  'Come on, I've been in charge of this Hospital wing for more years than you have been alive.  There is nothing that you have that I have not seen before.'

'You may have seen it all before,' said Harry, a little awkwardly, 'but we haven't'.

Draco looked at him and they both sniggered together, aware of how ridiculous this situation was.  Madam Pomfrey found their laughter curiously infectious, and she warmed to them in that moment.

Oh what the hell, thought Harry, and Draco sensed this thought in his head.  They sniggered again, then went to the cupboard to get their pyjamas.  They stood next to each other as they got undressed, not wanting to look at each other, but unable not to look either.

Madam Pomfrey turned her back and secured the window and the curtains.  Draco was already down to his boxer shorts as he fished out his pyjamas.  For the boys, it was like Madam Pomfrey was not even there.  Their laughter was easy and natural, and would not go away.

'Move over, Potter, you just elbowed me in the ribs.'

'Malfoy!' gasped Harry, surprised.  'Are they your pyjamas?  They're silk!'

'Of course.  That's what pyjamas are made of aren't they?' Draco pondered airily, as he removed his boxers and stepped into his pyjama bottoms in one easy movement.  Harry admired the skill of the move, wondering if he could be that slick too.

'Oh nice,' commented Draco, snorting at Harry struggling into his own pyjama trousers.  'They're a real stylish garment.  Blue cotton went out about forty years ago, Potter.'

'Shut up Malfoy,' blushed Harry.  'Pyjamas aren't supposed to be a fashion statement!'  Pyjama bottoms on, he pulled off his t-shirt and slipped on the matching blue cotton shirt.

'Good lord,' Draco muttered.  'God knows why I find you attractive, you're all skin and bone!'

They looked at each other, mouths agape at what Draco had just said, then a loud volley of laughter rocketed between them as they remembered the presence of Madam Pomfrey behind them.  She smiled to herself.  Not much evidence of depression in here, at the moment anyway.

'Is this cabaret show over yet?' she asked good-naturedly as the two finally stood before her, one in blue cotton, the other black silk.

'It would appear so,' Draco yawned.

'We do hope you enjoyed it,' said Harry, and they both sniggered again.  But sleep was now only moments away, and Madam Pomfrey hurried them into bed.

'Professor Dumbledore will be here to see you when you wake.'

It was the last thing they heard.

As Madam Pomfrey watched them drop into sleep, she smiled once more, then closed the door and left them alone.

***

'They are asleep,' declared Professor Dumbledore, to the group assembled in his office.

'Headmaster,' blustered Snape, 'I do not see why this ridiculous matter is taking up so much of our time.'

'Indeed, Severus,' said Dumbledore, but nobody could quite tell whether he was agreeing with Snape or dismissing his comment.

'You may leave, if you wish...' Dumbledore added after a short time, smiling benevolently.

The confusion evaporated instantly, and Sirius - enjoying Snape's discomfort - pulled a silly gleeful face at McGonagall, who ignored him completely.  She still hadn't quite forgiven him for disturbing her stalking the vole that morning.  The two of them had a rather odd relationship.  It wasn't too many years since he'd been a student in her Transfiguration class, and a very talented one too.  Somehow behind her back he had taught himself how to be an Animagus while still a teenager, which was no mean feat at all.  McGonagall considered briefly the other two boys who had managed that same achievement in that very same class.  One tragically dead, one a traitor; and she was saddened to think of all that Sirius had been through since those days and now.  He was placing himself in immense danger by being here, but to him, the danger was of no consequence; the bond that linked him through James and Lily to Harry was one of the driving forces in his post-Azkaban life, if not the only one.  It was a bond of a type she had never had and would probably now never experience, although, she was very fond of Harry herself, even protective.  She caught Sirius's glance again and raised her eyebrows slightly in response to his smirk.

Sirius smothered a laugh at this astonishing show of humanity from the stern Scot.

'What's so funny, Black?' spat Snape icily, seeing the looks passing between Sirius and McGonagall.  'What is this, Gryffindor v Slyth--'

'...but I would prefer if it you stayed, of course,' continued Dumbledore, ignoring the previous tensions in the room.  'In the absence of Draco's parents, I would like you here as his Head of House.'

Snape made no move, which the group interpreted as his intention to remain.

'Are you going to inform Draco's parents?' asked Sirius.

'No,' replied Dumbledore, 'not yet anyway.  Not unless Draco himself specifically requests it.  I will speak to him this evening, but I have a hunch he won't want that yet.  And the same instinct tells me, Sirius, that similarly we cannot assume that Harry will welcome your presence either.  It may be some time before he is comfortable enough with his feelings to be able to talk you, in fact considering your reports of your recent meetings with him, I rather suspect this will be the case.  You may see him this evening, but if there is the slightest sign that your being there is stressful for him, I will advise Madam Pomfrey that the no visitors rule extends even to you.'

Snape's leering, gloating grin was as wide as his face and distinctly as unattractive.

'Harry and Draco have got to be left alone to come to terms with this with each other as well as individually.  However painful this may be for those closest to them to have to watch, it must be so, because we need it to happen as quickly as possible.  As soon as I think they are stable enough mentally, even if they are not fully reconciled to their dependence on each other, we must start to assess the stability and extent of their magical bonding.  This will require much extra work from all of us to establish as far as we can how their magical symbiosis will affect their abilities, and then to adjust their education accordingly.'

The mood in the circular room was now altered totally, all the petty sniping banished by the seriousness of Dumbledore's tone.

'I am uncomfortable interfering in this at all, Albus,' said McGonagall.

'I agree totally, Minerva.  Ordinarily we would simply leave the couple to discover these things for themselves, but considering who this couple are, and considering the increasingly worrying nature of Fudge's owls regarding Voldemort, we cannot afford to wait for so gradual a process to complete itself.'

Dumbledore paused, and then if anything his seriousness deepened.

'This issue is not going to be solved overnight I am afraid.  And its potential importance extends far beyond the walls of this castle. Very soon we are going to have one, or maybe two, significant problems to deal with.  The dilemma here is that in forcing them to spend time together for a quick resolution to their difficulties, we are hugely increasing the chances of this news leaking out.  The fact that these two archrivals are secluded together away from the school will become known very soon I am sure.  Minerva, I believe you when you say that Miss Granger is already in possession of most of the facts.  I would have expected nothing less from her.  But whereas I am sure we can trust her not to inflame the scandal herself, we cannot expect the same from most of the rest of the school.'

He glanced around the room at the attentive faces.

'Which brings me to the second problem.  If knowledge of the Crimson Cloud reaches any parents at all, or worse still gets into the Daily Prophet, it is bound to reach Voldemort.  He will know that Harry will be weakened by this, and may act against him.  Once he knows that the other half of this equation is the only son of his most faithful follower, the threat becomes immeasurably worse.  He will know that a bonding between Harry and Draco could possibly produce abilities in both of them that would be a significant danger to him.  Another complication is Fudge's blindness to the facts.  It is imperative that he receive no news of this.'

'It is going to be nearly impossible to keep this a secret!' Sirius despaired.

'I realise that.  We must form a tight-knit group who alone know the full picture, and we must pray that Draco's fear of his own father is enough to prevent him telling Lucius what has happened.  And we need a cover story.  At the moment I have no idea what that will be, but we must think of a compelling reason why Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy should be secluded in this way, something that we can allow to leak into the school without the real picture becoming obvious.  Please all put your minds to this, we are going to need it I suspect before the end of the day.'

'Sleeping sickness,' provided Snape instantly.  'Some kind of sleeping disorder which they picked up from that dratted faun of Hagrid's.  Perhaps we could say that the faun had been abroad somewhere outlandish, and the malady is not fully understood in this country.  It would explain why only Potter and Malfoy are affected.  It would also explain their bizarre recent behaviour.  And it would explain why we have removed from them from the chaos of the school to the peace of the Hospital wing, and why, because of the need for sleep, we are not allowing visitors.'

'Excellent, Severus,' beamed Dumbledore.  'That fits the bill all ways, and it is interesting enough not to sound like a cover-up, too.  We might be able to keep the lid on this after all.  Because of the extreme sensitivity of this it is my proposal that absolutely nobody other than those already in the know are made aware of what is really going on here.  The four of us, and Poppy Pomfrey.  I think we must add Hermione Granger too.  I will speak with her myself and assess the extent of her knowledge.  If Miss Granger has spoken to her friends I will also speak to them and impress the strongest need for security.'

The others nodded.

'But above all, I want none of the seriousness of this to reach the boys themselves, who must remain no more troubled than they already are for as long as possible.  This should be a time of great joy for them, and who are we to deny them all they may gain from being together?  Especially as this could be of immense worth to all of us, not just to them: we should not forget that love for Harry Potter defeated Voldemort once before, and it may do so again...'

***

Draco woke first.  It was a peculiar feeling, rising from an enchanted sleep in an unfamiliar room, and his first reaction was one of slight distress.

Then it all came back to him.  He was in the Hospital wing, sharing a small room with Potter.  The curtains were drawn and it was more or less completely dark but a small chink of light from under the door gradually began to illuminate his surroundings.  It was peaceful.  He could hear Potter's slow breathing from the other bed, and idly wondered when he would wake.  Come to that, he thought, what is the time anyway?

In the dim greyness of their room, Draco spotted Harry's Snitch-clock hovering silently next to his pillow.  He reached for his wand.

'Accio clock-thing,' he muttered.

The Snitch-clock made no move.  Blast, he thought, you need to know precisely what something was before you could summon it.  He slowly got out of bed and walked over to Harry to pick the clock up manually.

This is a neat little thing, thought Draco as he turned it over in his hand.  But there did not seem to be a dial or anything else that could indicate the time.  Even so, he was sure it was a clock.  How does it work?

'What is the time please?' he asked, but it made no sign of having heard him.  Bugger and blast, is this thing enchanted so that only Potter could use it?

'Potter, are you awake yet?  How does this work?' he whispered in a low voice.

Harry lay totally motionless but for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest.  His face was not exactly relaxed and not exactly in torment, and, like the clock, showed no sign of having heard him.

Draco looked closely at the sleeping Harry.  His glasses were next to his bed neatly beside his wand.  Draco paused as he recalled the events of the afternoon: an argument, nearly a fight, and two more kisses.  If he wanted to stop this thing now, he wouldn't be able.  It was not much more than a day since they had first spoken properly - out by the lake - but they had already travelled further in that time than he had dared to hope.  When Draco had first roused himself from the endless stewing, got dressed and gone out to have his first ever conversation with Potter, he had scarcely thought that twenty-four hours later he and Potter would have spent several comfortable hours in each other's company, kissed three times, seen each other undress, and now be looking at an indefinite period in private seclusion with no interruptions.  Don't be scared, Dumbledore had said.  You are standing on the edge of a wonderful thing.  Was Dumbledore actively trying to throw them together?  It certainly sounded like it.  Why would he want to do that?

His eyes remained on Harry.  How painfully vulnerable you look right at this moment, he thought.  His feelings for Potter had changed so much recently, changed out of all recognition.  He knew he was fast falling in love with him, he had been aware of that for some time.  But he was also feeling something else, another feeling that he was totally unfamiliar with.  He was beginning to feel protective of him.  The strangeness of that emotion was still unusual to him, but ever since he'd watched him wrestling with things he couldn't imagine out by the lake, he had begun to wonder how he himself could help drag Potter back into the light.  Well, it looked like he was certainly going to get his chance now.  However much longer they were going to have together, he was going to make every second count.  He reached down and gently ran the back of a finger over his cheek.

Harry slept on unknowing.

'Oh, of course,' he said to himself.  'Tempus.'

The Snitch-clock informed him politely that it was a quarter to nine.

Harry was bunched up at the pillow end of the bed, and Draco pulled himself up onto the foot of Harry's bed and sat with his back against the wall, enjoying the closeness, feeling Harry's strange empty calm in his own head.  But there was not the same calm in Draco's head.  For the first time, his mind wandered to the implications of their growing relationship beyond the school.  This was Harry Potter for fuck's sake.  His fellow Slytherins...his parents...and even more unthinkable matters...

It was perhaps twenty minutes later, when Draco was still sitting at Harry's feet, troubled yet at peace, when the door opened, and in walked Professor Dumbledore closely followed by Madam Pomfrey and Sirius.

The bright light from the lamps of the main ward flooded into their small kingdom and revealed the two boys as still as statues, one sleeping, the other guarding him.

'Mr Malfoy,' grimaced Madam Pomfrey.  'I told you earlier that this room is equipped with two beds.  Please return to your own.'

Draco looked angry at this interruption, but sighed, slipped off the bed slowly and sank into an armchair.

'Good evening, Draco,' smiled Dumbledore.  'How are you feeling?'

'Tired,' replied Draco blandly.  'Relaxed, but more tired than I have ever felt.'

'And Harry?' continued Dumbledore.  'Is he just dozing?'

'No,' said Draco.  'He hasn't woken up yet.'

'Hasn't he?'  The tone in Dumbledore's voice altered slightly.  'Poppy, how long ago did you give them the potion?'

'Exactly six hours, Headmaster,' responded Madam Pomfrey immediately.

Sirius walked past Draco to Harry's bed and laid his hand across Harry's head.  'He is sleeping deeply, Albus,' Sirius confirmed.

Draco sensed immediately the slight tension in the room.

'What's the matter?' he demanded sharply.  'Why is this a problem?'

'There is no problem, Draco,' answered Dumbledore soothingly.  'We are just surprised that the potion is still having an effect on him.  Its strength was calculated for a maximum of five hours.  Poppy will you please fetch Professor Snape?  I want to know precisely which version of the potion he used.'

Madam Pomfrey left the room.

'Forget Harry for the moment please,' said Dumbledore softly.  '...if you can.  I want to talk to you.  Sirius, could you leave us for a short while?'

Sirius smiled and left the room.

'Draco, I need to talk to you about your parents.  Usually when a student is facing a long period in the Hospital wing I would owl the parents to inform them of the situation.  But I think we are both aware that these are not usual circumstances and I don't think that that is a decision I can take.  It has to lie with you.  Have you had any thoughts about this yet?'

'Professor, may I be totally frank?'

'Of course.'

'I am grateful for the opportunity you have given us, and I think I am beginning to understand why you have done it.  But I have a couple of concerns.  I have far more idea of why we are here than Potter does, so we have a lot of talking to do.  In the interim all I need is sleep, but he needs much more.  I don't know how to explain it, but I can sort of feel a great hole in his head where the facts ought to be.  And I sense he is very vulnerable, and all the while he is like this I don't want to make the situation any more difficult.  Because of that I do not want you to tell my parents.  Their knowledge would bring them here, and their presence could only bring...complications.'

'Very well.  Your words are wise, Draco.'

'But surely they are not the main worry here; what about the rest of the school?'

'I told the main body of the school this evening at supper that you two have been suffering from a sleeping disorder caused by exposure to the faun Dixter.  Thankfully this has not caused as great a stir as you would imagine.  And certainly nothing like the kind of stir the truth would cause, I suspect.'

'The truth is bound to come out sooner or later.  I am not going to be able to hide it once Potter is stronger.'

'No indeed.  Hiding it will not be expected of either of you, in time.  But right at this present moment...'

'Exactly.'

After a pause, Draco continued, 'you must let me tell him everything when I think he is ready for it, or when he demands it, whichever comes sooner.  He can sense everything in my head, and already knows I am holding back on something.  In fact we argued about it this afternoon.  But, you can leave it to me.  It needs to be me that tells him all of what this mess is, and what it all means.  But it is delicate, and its importance spreads far beyond him and me.  So, no complications, no parents.'

There was silence as the two reached an unspoken agreement.

'Draco, I am impressed with your calm maturity.  It is a great credit to you.  Harry is lucky.  You both are.'

'Thankyou, Professor.  I know,' said Draco softly.  'One last thing.  There is at least one member of the school who knows as much as I do, maybe more, and a couple of others who are not far behind.'

'I assume you are talking of Miss Granger and her friends?' smiled Dumbledore.

Draco nodded.  He was beginning to see, like Harry, that practically nothing escaped Dumbledore's notice.

'There will be no...complications from that quarter, Draco.'

The quiet remained for several more minutes until the door opened again and Madam Pomfrey came back in.  Snape and Sirius followed her.

Snape signalled that he had something to say, but Dumbledore told him to say it despite Draco's presence.

'The potion was a standard five hour deep sleeping draught, Headmaster.  It had some extra sopora root as an added relaxant, to ease the passage out of enchanted sleep.  But it was nothing like enough to keep Potter in a deep slumber.  If he is still in such a deep sleep, it is not due to the potion, indeed in Potter's current state I would have expected him to wake long before the five hours were up, not sleep beyond that time.'

Dumbledore remained calm.  'Poppy.  Sirius.  Any suggestions?'

'None yet, Albus,' said Sirius.

'No,' sighed Madam Pomfrey.

'Still, we will not worry yet,' continued Dumbledore.  'It has only been six hours.  I think we can assume he is exhausted and leave it at that for now.  Draco, thank you for our chat earlier.  We will leave you now.  Please try to sleep some more, but in case you cannot, Madam Pomfrey has some more of the sleeping draught, which will be active for another twenty hours or so.  Professor Snape will prepare some more if you need it after that.  And Draco, do not worry about Harry.  Good night.'

They left, and Draco sat back on Harry's bed as he had before.  How could he not worry?  After another couple of hours of not worrying in which Harry still did not wake, he eventually pulled back the covers, curled up next to him, and was himself drifting into natural sleep in minutes.

Sleep seemed to come so much easier when Harry was next to him.