Tomorrow at the Latest

CHAPTER FIVE.

"Ugh." Harry awoke with an aching feeling in his brain. Before opening his eyes, he tried to bring his hand up to massage his head, but his arm seemed to be pinned to the bed he was on.

Wait, bed? Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying on his back on his bed in the fifth year boys' dormitory. The hangings were drawn around him, which was a good thing, because Draco sprawled limply and very inelegantly over him.

Harry leaned his head back, trying to remember how he, and Draco for that matter, had ended up in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. One of the last things he remembered from the night before was drinking alcoholic butterbeer between snogs with Draco, which got more and more sloppy and enthusiastic as the night continued. Someone must have stayed sober, or they wouldn't be back here.

The clock by the bed read ten o'clock, so most of the students would be at breakfast, in the common room or outside. He lay half awake for a few minutes, occasionally forgetting about the body that was the comfortable weight that on the lower three quarters of his body and trying to roll over. Eventually, he decided it was time to wake Draco.

Unable to find the strength to lift his head, Harry poked somewhere near his navel. His finger connected with Draco's cheek.

"Wake up, Draco."

A low groan came from Draco, near Harry's midsection. Harry continued prodding Draco's face until he woke up.

"Stop it, you ass."

"You wouldn't get up. I took the necessary measures."

Draco put a hand to his forehead. "So this is what it feels like to be hung over."

"You've never been wasted before?" Harry asked.

"Well, I've been drunk, but not this badly. Whoa, where are we?" Draco noticed his surroundings for the first time.

"Relax, we're in my dorm."

"You want me to relax?! I'm stuck in a room of fifteen-year-old Gryffindor boys! I should be fearing for my life!"

"Nah, if any of them were in here, we'd have heard from them by now." Harry pushed open a gap in the curtains. They're all at breakfast, except for Ron. He's still in bed."

Draco dropped his head back onto to Harry's stomach. "I feel like shit."

"Yeah, me too." Harry unconsciously ran his fingers through Draco's silky locks. His hair had been perfectly styled the night before, but was now ruffled and in need of a shower.

"What happened last night?" I think I was too drunk to remember most of it. I don't even know how we got back here."

Harry's ears went pink. He vaguely remembered several aspects of the night before and he didn't feel like explaining them to Draco. Not that he regretted it or anything. "Well, I can guess how we got back. Hermione probably figured something out. Get up. I want to see how Ron is."

Draco groaned again, but pulled himself off Harry, only to flop next to him. Harry swung his legs out of bed and stood up. He immediately felt his head spin. "Ooh, that doesn't feel good."

"If I had any energy, I'd laugh at you, Potter. You can be such a dumbass."

"Thanks, friend." Harry walked toward Ron's bed and pulled back the black hangings. He saw Ron and did a double take. Blaise was in bed with him. "Hey, Draco. Looks like we weren't the only ones who were intoxicated last night."

Blaise was on his side, one arm flung behind him over Ron, who was curled into the other boy's body.

Harry felt rather than saw Draco come to see the two hung over boys in Ron's bed. Draco's body sagged slightly, falling into Harry's. His head fell on Harry's shoulder. "What time is it?"

"Bed time," Harry answered, replacing Ron's curtains and falling back onto his own bed. Draco followed him.

They lay for a while, just breathing in the essence of each other. Draco, being on top, had his knees positioned just outside Harry's. Their chests touched, and their faces were mere inches apart.

"Harry, can I kiss you?" Draco whispered.

"Are you still drunk?" Harry asked, turning his face away from Draco. Draco, although rather hurt, saw the sense in Harry's question.

"No."

Draco felt Harry's sharp intake of breath as he placed a gentle kiss on his ear. He moved down toward Harry's nose, leaving soft, feathery kisses on Harry's skin. Harry turned slowly to face Draco, who continued kissing him. Across his brow, down the ridge of his nose, on his eyelids, down his jaw. Harry dropped his head back, giving Draco access to his neck. He felt Draco moving down his throat, leaving the same feathery kisses, so light they almost tickled.

Harry wouldn't have guessed it, but this felt good. He bit back a moan and felt Draco's lips touch him chastely on the cheek.

Suddenly Draco stopped. Harry was just about to open his mouth to say something, he didn't know what, when he felt Draco's mouth over his. He couldn't think of any words to describe the incredible sensation he felt. He couldn't remember ever feeling that good. He parted his lips slightly and felt Draco's tongue enter his mouth. The blonde boy's tongue ran along his teeth, the roof of his mouth. Harry leaned into him and moaned with pleasure.

Abruptly, Draco felt his mouth go numb. He pulled away from Harry, curling himself at the bottom of the bed. Harry pulled himself to his elbows to look at Draco.

"Draco...what's wrong?"

"I can't," the boy mumbled into his kneecaps. The repressed voices had finally got to Draco, making him realize what he was doing. He could get himself into a lot of trouble. He had already gotten himself into a lot of trouble.

Harry tried to pull Draco's head up to face him. Draco allowed his face to be faced upward, but he shut his eyes. Harry kissed the lids.

"Draco, look at me."

Draco once again attempted to move away from Harry. "Can't...won't..." His voice sounded more and more strained.

"Don't do this to me, love."

Draco's voice came clearer. "Don't call me that. You don't know me."

"I don't have to know you to be sure that I love you." Harry caught the other boy's hand and kissed his fingertips.

Draco drew a shuddering breath as he felt Harry grasp his right hand and start to gently caress it with his perfect lips. Harry pressed the side of his face into Draco's cold palm, closing his eyes.

Draco tried to pull his hand out of Harry's grasp, but Harry stopped him.

"Wait." A pair of strong hands brought a fair-skinned slim hand to the left side of Harry's chest, covering his heart. "Do you feel that?"

Draco, his head still facing away from Harry, the one person in the world he cared about more than anyone else but failed to admit it, felt. Harry's heart pulsed in a steady throb, maybe a bit faster than usual.

The blonde boy nodded and swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut and screwing up his face, so Harry couldn't see.

"What does that feel like to you?"

"It feels like your heart."

"What is it saying to you?"

Draco choked. "It-"

Wordlessly, Harry let go of Draco's hand and wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders. The slender boy relaxed in his arms, melting in the heat of Harry's affection. An unbidden tear slid down Draco's pale cheek, stopping at the side of his mouth.

Harry knew this tiny bead of pain was one of many that had been welling up inside Draco for years. Draco was slowly losing his shell, and his soft interior was beginning to show. If he had to describe himself, Draco would have said he was losing his strength, but Harry knew this was just part of the healing process.

Harry lost track of how much time he spent sitting against the headboard of his four-poster, Draco cradled in his arms. He leaned his head against the wall and let his eyes drop closed. He could feel Draco's head against his chest, over his heart, listening to it speak to him.

As they lay together silent, Harry thought about what holding Draco felt like. He'd never held anyone before. The only time that could possibly compare was hugging Mrs. Weasley last year, but that still didn't come very close. It was definitely a new feeling. He wondered if you felt like this more often when you had a proper family.

"Draco? What does it feel like to have a family?"

Draco tensed. "You want to know what it feels like to have a family?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I live with the Dursley's, but they aren't my real parents, so I've never known what it's like to have a family. I was wondering if it would be kind of like this." He squeezed Draco slightly to emphasize what 'this' meant.

Draco pulled away from Harry. "Family's are fucking terrible. Parents don't listen to you and want you to do everything their way. You hear everything from 'Have you decided to join our Lord yet?' to 'Eat your vegetables.'" As Draco spoke, he pushed himself as far from Harry as he could, against the bedpost at the foot of the four-poster. He continued, his pitch rising. "They dictate your life. 'Who do you spend time with?', 'What are the families like?', 'Are you a virgin?'. They think they have meetings with me to reach a happy medium, but I just hate them for it. They don't listen to me say that I behave in class and get decent marks, because they think all I'm good for is messing up. My father uses too many perfect rhymes is every sentence. All I want to do is scream until I'm hoarse. Get out of my fucking life!" Draco shut his eyes and dug his nails into the quilt underneath him.

Harry was sorry he'd asked about Draco's family. He had been feeling perfectly at peace, and now Draco's parents were in mind, making it impossible to feel relaxed. Harry wanted to comfort Draco, badly, but he wasn't sure how. He cupped his face in both hands. His eyes roved over the slim face, taking in every small detail, then kissing it.

Knowing he would regret his weakness later, Draco collapsed into Harry's waiting arms.

**

About six feet away from Harry and Draco, Ron awoke with a start. He felt a throb in his head and immediately wished he was still asleep. Once his brain started functioning, however slowly, Ron realized why he had woken up. He had heard, or possibly imagined a muffled sob from Harry's bed.

The red haired boy gave a slight start at Blaise's presence in his bed when he tried to move. Feeling Ron's body move beside him, Blaise's eyes fluttered open.

"What the..." He moved his arm off of Ron. "Oh, I remember now."

"Remember what? I haven't a fucking clue. But my head hurts."

"You got pretty drunk, Ron."

"No shit."

Blaise blinked. "In case you were wondering, you owe your very existence to Hermione, Cho and me right now."

"I think that's putting it a little harshly. My existence? Maybe perhaps my presence in the castle and not in the gutter in Hogsmeade, but not my existence," Ron protested.

"Whatever. I was just making a point." Blaise waved a hand in dismissal. "What I'm telling you in that it was the three of us who brought you three back here last night. I was exhausted, so I didn't feel like going back to my dorm, much less bring a wasted Draco, so we just stayed here."

Ron was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head between his knees. "I'm going to go to take a shower and possibly puke."

"I'll be here." The Slytherin stretched out on Ron's bed.

**

Harry and Draco lay on Harry's bed, the whole world blocked out of their small cocoon of comfort. The larger boy ran his hand up and down the other's back, soothing him. They both lay in relative comfort, their breathing normal and their bodies more relaxed than they had been in ages.

"We should get up now," Draco said, trying not to display any emotion.

Harry leaned down to kiss Draco. Draco opened his mouth, inviting Harry to become more intimate. It was a few more minutes before either boy made a move to rise.

"I need to take a shower," Harry said, touching his lips to Draco's forehead one last time.

They pulled back the black velvet hangings that had obscured the rest of the room, with several other beds, trunks, and windows, set into the circular walls.

Draco sighed. "I'll go back to my dormitory."

Harry sat motionless on the bed as he watched Draco walk away. As he reached the door, Harry softly said, "I love you."

Draco panicked and turned around to face Harry. He couldn't remember any time in his entire life when someone had told him they loved him. He studied Harry's face carefully, but there was no trace of deceptiveness. And after a morning like this, there was no way he could simply use his familiar method of nastiness to avoid feeling anything.

Harry sat, his legs folded beneath him, gazing at Draco. Draco noted the incredible placidness of Harry, who looked as though he expected Draco to not answer him, but if Draco did, he would have expected that as well. And if time stopped at that moment, he was perfectly content knowing that he had told Draco he loved him, even if the feelings were not returned. But Draco knew, and that's what mattered.

Tears welled up in Draco's eyes, at the raw affection radiating from Harry, but he couldn't cry again. He hadn't cried in years, and now was not the day to make up for all that hidden pain.

"Harry, I-"

The beautiful boy with jet black hair was drowning in Draco's eyes. At first, he thought they were gray, but in actuality, they were silver. They shone with salty moisture, and they were the most striking eyes Harry had ever seen.

"I love you, too."

Harry simply smiled, and Draco almost melted. It was a modest smile. His lips curved upward, forming a delicate arch that only Draco could bring about. And knowing this made Draco feel more appreciated than he had ever felt. It was a completely new feeling, and he loved it.

***

Harry spent the rest of Sunday in something of a daze. His mind kept wandering back to Draco. He stayed on his bed until Ron came back from the shower and snapped a wet towel at his arse. He then pushed a sleeping Blaise out of the bed, giving Harry a start. He hadn't realized the boy had been there at the time when Draco left.

When Hermione asked Harry to study in the library, he agreed, but only so he'd have more than one thing on his mind. This didn't exactly work. Harry spent most of the two hours with Hermione leaning back in his chair and tickling the base of his neck with his feather quill.

After what seemed like a long time, Hermione snapped shut a book and stood up to return it to a shelf. "Harry, if you aren't going to work, take you dreamy expression and get the hell out of here. You're really distracting."

"But 'Mione, I'm not even making noise."

"Yes, but I know what you're thinking about, and the thought of that is very distracting."

Grumbling, he gathered his books, opened but unread, and left the library. He took a long loop around the school in hopes of seeing Draco, but he wasn't around.

Ron was sprawled on a sofa in the Gryffindor common room when Harry arrived. Dean Thomas had a bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and was spitting them at Ron's open mouth.

"Ouch!" Ron exclaimed as a bean bounced off his forehead. "Aim for my mouth, you idiot."

"Sorry, it's hard to spit them far enough and aim at the same time," Dean explained. He popped an orange bean into his mouth, sucked on it for a moment, and then spit it out in Ron's direction, only for it to land on his shirt.

"Here, try another." Seamus Finnegan came reached into Dean's bag and pulled out a handful of beans, tossing them all at Ron, who covered his face. Harry slipped unnoticed up the stairs to the fifth year boys' dormitory.

***

The next day, Harry looked forward to seeing Draco from the moment he opened his eyes. He was in and out of the shower very quickly, and in the common room before either Ron or Hermione. He sat staring out the window until they came down. Together and led by Harry, the three friends made their way to the Great Hall.

When they arrived, Harry automatically scanned the students for Draco, but he wasn't there yet, so they took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Cho joined them, and soon, she and Hermione were engaged in an animated conversation in a language Harry didn't understand. Cho was of oriental origin, and Hermione had obviously been studying linguistics.

Ron, immediately realized that he wasn't going to be able to follow Hermione and Cho, turned to Neville to discuss Quidditch that year at Hogwarts. Evidentially, the season would start in a couple of weeks, giving the players a chance to swing back into the school year before starting practices.

Harry was watching when Blaise appeared in the doorway. Their eyes met and Blaise hurried to the Gryffindor table. Harry was rather distressed at the lack of Draco with Blaise.

Blaise dropped into a seat next to Harry and started talking in a nervous undertone. "Harry, Draco's gone."

"What?" A fork clattered onto a plate of eggs.

The Slytherin continued. "I haven't seen him since yesterday morning, and last night, I found this note."

Harry, open-mouthed reached for the folded piece of parchment Blaise handed him. It read:

Blaise-

My father's here to take me home. I can't be long, he's waiting for me now, thinking I'm packing some of my things.

I don't know the whole story. I think a friend of my father's saw us at the club. Father wasn't pleased at who I was dancing with. I don't know when I'll be back to school, if ever.

Tell everyone I said hello, or perhaps goodbye. Especially Harry.

Love to all,

Draco

Harry dropped the parchment on the table and covered his face with his hands. "This can't be happening."

The phrase, 'Oh, but it can' was on the tip of Blaise's tongue, but he kept it to himself. He didn't think Harry needed to hear something like that at a time like this.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, switching back to English. Blaise handed her Draco's letter and she read it, Ron's head at her shoulder.

The girl gasped and handed the letter to Cho.

Ron glanced at Harry. "Oh shit. This isn't good."

"We should have been more careful." Harry was fighting not to cry. He normally wasn't a terribly emotional person, but this was too much. Just when he and Draco had, well, yeah.

"We have to go to class." Blaise noted, trying not to disturb Harry.

"You guys have Potions today, right?" Cho asked. "You can ask Snape if he knows anything."

"That's a laugh," Ron snickered. "Snape wouldn't tell us. He hates us."

"I'll ask him," Blaise volunteered. "I'm in his house, after all."

"Let's go." Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. We'll find Draco. He'll be alright and so will you. Get up and go to class.

**

When Potions finally came, Harry sat at a bench with Ron. Both pretending to be occupied with their assignment, they watched Blaise approach Professor Snape. The regular babble of talk and scrape of ingredients being ground covered Blaise's voice, but they tried to read his facial expression.

Snape looked irritable when he heard Blaise ask him a question. His answer was brief, and the boy's expression was impassive. When the professor turned away, Harry and Ron got a wink in their direction, telling them to wait until after class for the news of Draco.

***

"He's been pulled out of school."

Ron inclined his head, eyes wide and expectant. "And?"

"He wasn't very forth coming, okay?" Blaise was as irritated as everyone else.

"That's all he said?" Hermione asked, not seeming very surprised.

"He didn't know if Draco would be back. He just said his father wanted him home."

"Well, we don't know much more now, do we? I mean, Draco's letter could have told us that much," Cho thought out loud.

"Do you think there's any way we can contact him? I mean, will his father screen his mail, do you think?" Harry was worried.

Blaise shook his head. "I have no idea."

"We should wait for him to send an owl to us, so we know it's safe." Hermione suggested.

"But what if he hasn't got access to an owl?" Ron said, for once more logically than Hermione. "I mean, his father obviously isn't pleased with him, so why would he let him correspond with anyone?"

This was a conversation stopper. All five friends stood in a cluster in the corridor, getting later and later for lunch.

"How dangerous would it be to go to his house through the floo network?" Harry inquired finally.

"Very dangerous. We don't know what fireplace in his house we'll come out of," Blaise said. "What if someone's in a room we enter into to? And besides, we don't even know if his house is connected to the network."

"It's worth a shot, don't you think?" Cho asked.

"Of course, but we can't all go," Blaise said.

"We should go to lunch," Ron said, taking Harry by the wrist and trying to firmly lead him toward the Great Hall. Harry met him with resistance.

"But we can't talk in there."

"Look, we can't solve this in the corridor anyway. Let's go." Hermione sided with Ron. "Tonight we can meet in Cho's common room. Isn't it usually empty early, Cho?"

"Yeah. Most Ravenclaws go to bed early."

"How about eleven o'clock then?"

Harry reluctantly agreed. He wanted to talk sooner, but that wasn't going to happen.

**

At ten fifty nine that evening, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Blaise stood outside the Ravenclaw common room, at a modest pair of wooden doors.

"Intellect," Hermione said firmly, standing back to let the doors open for them.

When they entered, Cho was alone in the common room. It was a beautiful room, Ron thought. The color theme seemed to blue. The four walls were painted pale blue and the carpet was a more deep blue, fuzzy and thick. The furniture reminded Ron strongly of Gryffindor tower, but the upholstery was all different shades of blue.

Cho closed the book she was reading and set it on the glass topped table in front of the sofa she was curled on.

"Are we ready?" She asked.

Ron looked around. "Are we all going?"

"I dunno," Blaise said. "But I don't think they'll notice three extra teenagers in their house as much as five."

Hermione was thoughtful. "Harry, you can definitely go. Who else should? Blaise? How about you? You're closer to Draco than any of us." She gestured toward Cho and Ron.

The boy shrugged. "Alright."

"Ron, Hermione and I will stay here." Cho pulled a small pouch of a fine white powder out from under the cushion we sat on. Floo powder.

"How long should we stay? At his house, I mean." Harry asked. "Should we have a time to come back when we know the common room is empty?"

"We'll be back by tomorrow, at the latest," Harry said resolutely.

"This time?" Cho raised an eyebrow. "Or are you expecting us to wait around here for the twenty four hours that make up tomorrow?"

"This time," Blaise confirmed. He took a pinch of the white powder from Cho's hand and stepped toward the flames flickering in the grate.

"If his house isn't connected, come back here, don't get out anywhere," Ron warned.

"I know. Malfoy Manor!" The boy threw the powder into the fire and stepped into the midst of it, clearly declaring his destination.

Harry's previous experience with Floo powder hadn't been good, but Blaise made it look easy. Checking to make sure his wand was in his pocket, he too scattered his Floo powder on the flames and stepped into them.

Harry tucked his elbows into his sides as he felt himself whirled through the Floo network. He caught glimpses of grates as he went. Kitchens, living rooms, bedrooms. Most of the rooms were dark and empty, but some still had people in them.

Suddenly, Harry saw a room, dimly lit, with high walls lined with rows and rows of books. Two boys were standing close to the fireplace, embracing. It was Blaise and Draco.

Harry fell out of the grate choking on soot. Before he had time to stand up properly, he felt himself folded in Draco's arms, a pair of lips on his own. From the quick kiss, which was shy because of the audience present, the two boys pulled each other into a regular hug.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Draco said quietly into Harry's neck.

"How could you think we'd leave you here?"

"I don't know." Draco frowned and glared at the fireplace. "You aren't bringing the whole entourage, are you?"

"No." Harry smiled. "It's just us."

"Good. I have a hard time thinking the whole crew could keep a low profile in this place." Draco was right. Even in his enormous mansion, five teenagers would not go unnoticed. Five loud, energetic, sarcastic, affectionate, loving, amazing teenagers at that.

"Should we leave?" Blaise asked uneasily, bringing Draco back to the library.

"Oh, right. My father should be here in a few minutes to tell me to go to bed."

"Let's go now so he won't see us in here."

"No. If I'm not here, he'll think something's up. I always stay in the library as late as I can and if I'm already in my bedroom..."

"Then Harry and I have to hide somewhere." Blaise took it upon himself to help Draco's numb mind to function.

"In here." Draco gestured to a tall wardrobe at the far end of the room. As he led them to it, he glanced at a clock on the wall. It had seven hands and the numbers rotated. Harry could make no sense of the clock at all. Blaise noticed another clock underneath it. This one had a hand for the three members of the Malfoy family. Instead of numbers on the face of the clock, there were emotions. Narcissa's, Draco's mother, rested at 'Asleep'. Draco's kept darting between 'Nervous' and 'Excited'. Lucius's hand was on 'Undetectable'.

Draco noticed Harry and Blaise eyeing his family's clock. "That's called an emotion monitor. I imagine it took some dark magic to make that thing function."

"The Weasley's have one sort of like it, except theirs shows where the people are."

"Those are much easier to make. They just find the location of a person, but this one has to actually detect their psychic energy."

"Why is your father's on 'Undetectable'?" Harry inquired.

Draco's face hardened. "He's been a Malfoy longer than the rest of us. He's had more practice at hiding whatever he feels. Sometimes his cover slips, but his hand is almost always on 'Undetectable'."

"Oh."

At that moment, the three boys heard footsteps coming briskly down the corridor outside the closed doors of the library. Blaise and Harry jumped inside the wardrobe and pulled the door closed. Draco ran to the sofa in front of the fireplace and grabbed a book.

"Draco." Lucius Malfoy stood framed in the doorway of the library. His black robes fell elegantly down his back, perfectly and expensively fitted. "I want you in bed in five minutes."

"Yes, Father." Draco looked up from the book he was pretending to read.

"Now." Mr. Malfoy turned and swept out of the room, the doors swinging shut behind him without his having to touch them.

Draco watched the door for a moment before snapping the book closed and standing up. "Let's go."

Harry and Blaise stumbled out of the wardrobe. "Why was he so angry?" Harry asked.

Draco looked confused, but he subconsciously knew his father's normal persona was always the same, always in the appearance of anger. "He wasn't angry."

Blaise, more knowledgeable than Harry in the field of Draco's psychology, sensed an emotional change coming on.

"You mean he's always like that?"

"Yes." Draco suddenly felt cold. He didn't like being reminded that his father was constantly angry. Thinking about his father made him think about how his mother was and always had been disconnected from him. He tried to avoid spending time with his family. It was more fun to pretend his father took him outside to practice Quidditch and that he could curl up beside his mother on the couch and have her read him a story before bed.

Almost immediately, Harry realized his question had upset Draco. When most people were upset, anyone, even someone who didn't know them, could tell what they felt. With Draco, it was different. You had to know a lot about him to be able to know what was going on in his head, and even then, Draco was often a mystery. The boy's face became hard and unreadable. Gently, Harry slipped his hand in Draco's. The response was a light squeeze.

Draco could already feel things getting better.