Circles of Influence

The Marks We Bear II: Circles of Influence

by Marysia (April-May 2002)

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http://www.marysia.com/

Rating: R

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Summary: Harry is in denial once more after Mrs Weasley catches him and Draco together. Can Ron and Hermione get him to see reason? In the meantime Voldemort wants Draco dead. Harry/Draco slash.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter 3

Thursday 23rd Oct

That morning was double Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry felt wound as tight as a spring now that he had this plan, this thing that he had decided to do and that no-one else could know about. The anticipation was tight in his stomach and for the first time in over a week he felt almost alive. It was... not good, not nice... but it was something. It was better than it had been. It gave everything an edge. Like the edge of a knife.

As he left the class in his hazy world, which only sat close enough to the real world to be able to see and hear it, he was stopped by a foot stuck out in front of him which he promptly tripped over. In the vague blur that followed Ron and Seamus tackled Crabbe, who had been the one to trip him over, and while everyone else was distracted someone stuffed a note into his hand. By the time he turned to see who it had been there was no real way to tell. He looked down at the crumpled parchment in his hand, it had his name on the front but the sheet was blank when unfolded. Confused he headed for Charms, ignoring the growing battle behind him between Ron, Seamus, Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco watched Harry walk away from the battle that had started over him, it was strange how the world still seemed to revolve around Harry Potter. It was just that Harry Potter no longer cared to pay any attention to it.

Harry skipped lunch, he generally skipped one meal a day. He'd skip them all if he could but he knew any more than one a day would attract too much attention. He prowled the empty dorms looking for hidden stashes of alcohol which he might purloin, he didn't find any. Then he recalled the strange note he had been given earlier and drew it out of his pocket. As he ran his hand over it to flatten the crumpled paper there was a sudden flash of writing. He drew his hand back in shock and it vanished again. When he placed his hand back on the paper the words reappeared...

'Dear Harry,

        I have a proposal for you, I feel it is time we

moved past our enmity. I have heard that you are not entirely

satisfied with your current lot in life, I can offer you a

better world to live in. If you can look past your preconceptions

that is. I am willing to offer you a position at my side, a

position of some power... at least in the future. In return for

accepting my offer I can promise that I will leave your old

friends, the mudblood girl and the Weasley boy, unharmed in any

coming battle. Obviously Draco Malfoy is another matter but I

hear you no longer associate with him. Perhaps you were as shocked

as Lucius and I by his betrayal of his family, how can you trust

someone who would so callously desert his parents? His father paid

a heavy price for the betrayal of his son.

        Think about it, Harry. You are not happy, why not try

something new? How can you know what side you belong on when you

have only ever tried one of them? I will be in touch.

                        Lord Voldemort'

Harry gaped at the audacity on paper before him. Join Voldemort? Had he fallen so far that Voldemort considered him a likely candidate? Was it so clear how much he had changed, how easily he caused pain around him? Is that how he seemed now even to someone so far away? Prime Death-Eater material.

-----------------

Friday 24th Oct

Harry eyed the bottle he had stolen with anger and hope. But then there was anger in his gaze most of the time, anger at life itself for refusing to obey him. Well, if he couldn't control life or fate or any of that there was still one thing left under control. Himself.

And just like Draco had said, if he couldn't beat life into submission he'd do it to his body and mind instead. Starting with this bottle so that he could get drunk enough to do what he really wanted to do.

He poured a tumbler full of the clear liquid and sniffed at it cautiously. He stuck out his tongue and tasted it briefly, drawing back immediately. //That is really gross,// he thought. //Oh, well. Bottom's up and all that.// Then he screwed up his nose and tossed as much of it down his throat as he could.

He spent the next few minutes trying not to throw it straight back up again, it was absolutely disgusting and it felt like it was burning a hole in his throat.

Half an hour later Harry was pretty drunk. He had wondered what it would be like, he always got the impression it was supposed to be fun. It was... different. One moment he was distracted by the way the world wavered around him and it felt like he was floating. He touched his face and it felt good and slightly numb. Then it were as if that hole he had inside him suddenly opened up and swallowed him whole and he was crying great gulping sobs and everything seemed wet with tears and there was nothing else in the world but this dizzy grasping lonely emptiness. Somewhere in between the two extremes he picked up his knife and swayed into a seated position. For a while he watched the light play on the silver metal. Pretty. He thought about Sirius, who had given him the knife. Sirius who said he could talk to him. Then he remembered the other letter he had got, everyone wanted to talk to him these days, shame he had nothing to say to any of them aside from 'fuck off'. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He looked down at his legs, touching his thigh. It felt like his face, numb and very far away and yet it was nice to touch it. He smiled and laid the edge of the blade against the pale skin.

"This better be good, Draco," he murmured to himself. "Cause I really need something right now. Something to make it easier and if this doesn't work..." He left the threat unstated, even to himself, though he knew exactly what he meant.

Then he drew the knife firmly across his thigh.

For a moment he thought it hadn't cut him at all. Then suddenly blood blossomed in a thin line and flowered out. Beautiful. He gasped in amazement as the sensation hit.

"Oh, oh yes," he sighed. "Was it like this for you? No wonder you kept doing it."

Pain/pleasure ran through him making him half hard despite his inebriated state. He threw his head back and swayed with it, pulses like the thrusts of Draco inside him. So good.

For a long moment he let it thrill through him. Then suddenly he absolutely had to see Draco, nothing else mattered. Had to see him, show him, touch him... in a flurry of movement with momentary pauses to sway and again appreciate the sharp burn of the pain and the beautiful vision of dark red against pale white, he threw his pyjama bottoms back on, dug out the invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map and stumbled out of the dormitory.

After nearly falling down several flights of stairs, stopping to have a bit of a cry again, knocking over two suits of armour, forgetting where he was going and turning back and tripping over Mrs Norris, Harry arrived at the room Draco was now using. He banged loudly on the door.

"Draco!" he shouted. "Lemme in."

Draco was woken from a light and fretful sleep, which he had fallen into only a few minutes previously, by a pounding at the door. He pulled on his dressing gown. "Who's there?" he called nervously.

"S'Harry," came a slurred voice. "Need to talk to you."

Draco unbolted the door as fast as he could. "Harry?" There was nobody there. Then an invisible someone grabbed him and in his panicked struggle he knocked the cloak aside and saw it was Harry after all. "Gods, you scared me," he gasped.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, he seemed to be finding it hard to focus.

"Are you all right?" Draco closed the door and bolted it again. "Are you hurt?"

"M'fine." Harry staggered over to the bed.

Draco suddenly realised what was going on. "You're drunk," he exclaimed.

Harry sat on the bed and gave him a lop-sided grin. "Yup," he said proudly. "I decided if it was good enough for you it was good enough for me. I had to do something." He looked momentarily pensive.

"What?"

"Once I tried it I just had to see you to say I get it now. I totally get it."

"Get what?"

"Why you did it, why it helped. It's incredible."

Harry gestured to his leg and Draco looked where he was pointing. In horror he realised the leg of Harry's pyjamas was stained with blood. "Harry, what have you done!" He raced forward then stopped short of actually touching him.

"You wanna see?" Harry asked generously.

"Please," said Draco faintly. "Let me see."

Modesty not even crossing his mind Harry stripped off his pyjama bottoms to show Draco his thigh. "I remembered you said you had to get drunk the first time so I thought it might be easier that way."

"Oh, Harry," Draco dropped onto his knees and laid shaking hands either side of the bleeding cut on Harry's leg. "This is my fault."

Suddenly Harry's mood swung again as the pain on Draco's face seemed to penetrate the excitement at having successfully navigated his way to Draco's room. "I..." He could feel the darkness and the tears rising in him again. "I didn't mean... I just..."

Draco looked up, his own eyes dark with sorrow. "Didn't what?"

"I don't know... I just wanted to feel something, to do something... I don't know." Harry put his hand to his mouth. "I don't feel very well," he said plaintively.

"What did you drink?" Draco asked in concern.

"Um... vodka, I stole it from Gred and Forge. It was really nasty." His eyes wandered a bit again as he became distracted by the way the world didn't seem to keep up with his head when he moved it.

"How much did you drink, Harry?" Draco tried to catch his attention, squeezing his arms.

Harry looked back at him. "Uh... about... this much." He held up his hand in an extremely poor attempt to indicate how much of the bottle he had drunk. "I think I'm going to lie down now." He tipped backwards and landed with a bounce across the bed.

Draco got up and fetched a large glass of water. "Harry." He pulled him back upright to much protest. "Harry, you need to drink this."

"What is it?" he said suspiciously.

"It's just water."

Harry took it and drank it all then slumped backwards again. Staring at the ceiling he said, "I think I really need to pee."

With a great deal of manhandling Draco got Harry into his small bathroom. By this point, despite his joy at seeing Harry again when it had seemed for a while he might never touch him again, he was starting to get a bit annoyed. //He completely ignores me for two weeks then suddenly he shows up drunk and bleeding and I'm supposed to look after him when chances are the minute he sobers up he'll go right back to ignoring me again. Bastard!// Harry started peeing on the floor and Draco was forced to grab him and aim him at the toilet. //Well this is perfect,// he thought savagely. //Just exactly the way I pictured getting reacquainted with his dick. I should tie a fucking knot in it.// He just wished the angry mental diatribe weren't a front for the fact that the whole situation made him want to fall into a heap on the floor and bawl his eyes out. An effect Harry seemed to have on him more and more and something he was manifestly not going to give in to. If Harry was going to rip his heart out and piss on the pieces, fine, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing him crack. Draco guided him back to the bed where he collapsed again.

"I really feel sick," he moaned as Draco finished dressing the cut on his leg.

"Hold on, I've got some Quease-Ease Potion." Draco fished out the bottle and poured Harry a cap full then made him drink another glass of water. Then he covered Harry with the blankets, dimmed the lights and watched from the end of the bed as Harry started to drift off but soon he was fidgeting uneasily.

"Draco," he murmured. "Where are you?"

Draco sighed. "I'm right here, Harry," he whispered as he slid between the sheets next to him. "I'm always right here."

Harry settled comfortably against him. "My leg hurts," he muttered. "Did I hurt my leg?"

"Don't worry about it, everything's fine. Go to sleep," Draco reassured him despite the fact that part of him wanted to beat Harry into a pulp screaming, 'How dare you, how dare you come in here and act like everything's back to normal when it's not. How dare you flaunt yourself in my face, how dare you get drunk and cut yourself up and make me feel guilty about it, how dare you climb back into my bed and into my mind and into my heart you complete and utter bastard.' He stroked Harry's hair back from his face and lightly kissed his forehead and his cheeks.

Harry finally slipped into a deep sleep and, exhausted, Draco curled himself around the warm, limp body. "Bastard," he whispered once he was sure Harry couldn't hear him, still feeling tears hover unshed inside him. He gave into the words he found on his tongue, "Please stay with me, I can't bear being without you. I can't sleep without you, I can't eat without you." He buried his head in Harry's hair murmuring, "Stay, stay, please stay, stay..."

------------------

Saturday 25th Oct

Harry woke up feeling terrible, his head ached and his mouth was incredibly dry and he was too warm and something was very wrong with his leg. He made a noise of immense discomfort and disgust at being conscious. Then he realised he wasn't alone. He opened his eyes in surprise then shut them again as pain shattered through his head. He moaned and put up one hand to feel the familiar silky texture of Draco's hair.

The other boy stirred at the clumsy exploration of his head. "Hmmmm?"

//What the fuck happened?// thought Harry grasping for any memory of last night. He remembered drinking vodka... "Shit," he muttered and scrabbled about on the nightstand for some light and his glasses, succeeding in knocking a glass of water over as he felt for the lamp switch. He shook the water off his glasses and stuck them on his face then risked opening an eye again. He closed it again quickly against the pain, but not before deciding this was definitely not his dormitory.

"Harry?" said Draco softly from the vicinity of his chest.

//Shit!// Harry started to pull himself out from under Draco despite the fact that moving made his head hurt an awful lot, but as he moved his left leg a new wave of pain shot through him. "Ow! What the fuck?" He tossed aside the covers, grasping his head in one hand, and looked down at the bandage on his leg which was slightly bloodstained. "What happened?" he asked in confusion, trying to cover himself with the bottom of his pyjama top as he looked for the trousers.

Draco sat up next to him. "Don't you remember?" he asked neutrally.

Harry found them and struggled into them. "I...." Harry remembered why he had drunk the vodka, focusing harder he remembered the bright flower of blood and the spiraling pleasure of pain washing through him. "Oh," he said.

"Right," said Draco. "Oh." He sounded upset in a restrained sort of way.

Harry looked at him akwardly. "I... it was a mistake."

"That's not what you said last night."

"What did I say last night?"

"You said it was incredible," said Draco harshly.

Harry flushed. "I shouldn't have come here," he muttered as he stood up. "It was stupid, I was drunk. I'm fine, I didn't mean to bother you..."

"Bother me!" Draco shouted suddenly making Harry jump and grab his head. "You didn't mean to bother me?" He leapt out of the bed and grabbed Harry's arm, the look on his face was a mixture of anger and pleading. "You get drunk, you slice yourself up, and I told you how to do it! What are you doing, Harry? I don't understand this. You break up with me, you start flirting with Ginny Weasley and now this. You don't do this when you're fine! You do this when you're falling apart. Hermione and Weasley are desperate with worry about you, Sirius Black is worried about you, Dumbledore is worried about you. Everyone's worried about you and you tell me you're fine. I think about you every minute of the day and every second of the night and you say you're sorry you bothered me? You think you can just walk back out that door and I'll forget about you and you can go back to slipping into whatever hell it is you're aiming for? Well I say no! No, you're not fine and no, you are not leaving!"

Harry stared at him in shock, he had only taken in about half of what Draco had said and he really thought he might be sick. "Draco... I... " then he broke off and dashed into the bathroom where he retched into the toilet bowl.

Draco sank to his knees on the floor and stared at nothing as he listened to Harry throw up. He remembered throwing up himself, Harry's steady hands offering him water, cleaning him up. He felt a sudden urge for the clean simplicity of his own knife and denied it as he had been doing for two weeks now. He was done with that. It was a new battle he was determined to win. The mental inability to hurt himself was long gone, now he had to fight the addiction to doing it instead. Inside the bathroom he heard Harry cleaning himself up.

"Are you using my toothbrush?" he asked in a doomed attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yes," said Harry shortly.

Draco sighed and leaned back against the side of the bed, waiting for him to finish.

Finally Harry came back out, looking altogether more composed.

"Why did you leave me?" Draco asked.

Harry stared at him.

"I think you at least owe me that much."

Harry looked at the floor. "What we did was a mistake," he said, it sounded like a rote speech and Draco wondered how often Harry had repeated it to himself. "We're too young. I... I should never have asked you for the things I did. It was wrong of me."

Draco turned the words over in his head, trying to figure them out, to fit them in with what he and Harry had done and said in the past and they just didn't make sense. "But why? Why was it wrong?" he asked finally. "I thought you enjoyed what we did, I know I did."

Harry tore his eyes up from the extremely fascinating rug he was staring at and fixed instead on the bed next to Draco's head, his cheeks slightly pink. "I... that's not the point," he said, not confirming or denying that he had enjoyed what they'd done. "We're too young to be doing that, you don't even know if you're... " he couldn't seem to get the word out.

"Gay, Harry," said Draco finally. "I thought you could at least say it by now."

Harry flushed. "I rushed you into things."

"I don't remember complaining."

"It was wrong."

"It didn't feel wrong."

Those words ran through Harry like electricity, breaking his composure. "But it was wrong!" he demanded. "You saw how Mrs Weasley reacted, how anyone would react. If anyone else knew... we're lucky we weren't expelled!"

"Harry..."

Harry ignored him. "It had to stop, I should never have gone so far in the first place."

Draco got the feeling he was about to break and leave and panic shot through him at the thought of Harry walking back out that door. He'd rather sit here and argue with him all day than have him leave, than be alone again. "But, Harry, that doesn't mean we never have to see each other again," he softly pleaded in a voice he would never let anyone else hear. "We never have to do anything you don't want to but it doesn't have to be over. I still... I..."

"What?" said Harry, equally softly.

"I miss you," said Draco, unable to take the risk of saying what he really intended and have Harry still walk away from him.

Harry sat down heavily on the bed and cradled his head. "I miss you too," he said roughly, looking at his knees. "I just... I don't want to mess up your life any more than I already have."

Draco sighed. "Don't decide what's best for me, Harry," he said. "You're really bad at it."

Harry looked up at him and Draco allowed a small smile to touch his face. "What do you think we should do?" Harry asked.

Draco joined him on the edge of the bed, their shoulders just touching. "Whatever you want, Harry. As long as it involves us being together that is."

"I don't know..."

"We don't have to do... anything physical. Not if you don't want to, not if it bothers you. I want it but I don't need it. What I need is you, here. You talking to me, you acting like a human being again, you not getting drunk and cutting holes in yourself just so you can feel something. Please, Harry..."

"I thought you said you wouldn't take me back even if I begged," he said quietly.

Draco sighed. "I was angry. I didn't mean it."

"If you're sure..."

"Of course I'm sure," Draco almost shouted in irritation. "I'm completely sure, one hundred percent, absolutely, completely sure. Is that sure enough for you?"

Harry too smiled a small smile. "I guess it'll have to do," he said. He was too worn out, not physically but emotionally. He didn't have the strength left to force himself to walk away for the third time. He would simply have to settle for restraining himself physically, he couldn't do this anymore. This being without Draco. It was killing him.

Relieved Draco allowed himself to relax and suddenly found himself stifling a yawn.

"Am I boring you?" Harry asked in dark amusement.

"No! No, it's just..." Draco looked a little embarassed. "I haven't been sleeping well without... well without you," he admitted. "I thought it might wear off but it hasn't, I just lie there staring at the ceiling and when I do fall asleep..."

"You're still having nightmares?"

"Sometimes. Other times I don't know why I wake up, I just do. I haven't slept longer than about an hour since we got back to school... except for last night."

Harry looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I've been so wrapped up in myself..."

"Don't apologise," said Draco. "Let's just forget about these past two weeks and, if you want, about what we've done before. We can start again and I vote that an excellent way to start would be by getting a lie in." He climbed back into bed. "You coming? I promise to behave myself."

Harry looked doubtful.

"Please? I swear I'll be good. I just want to sleep some more." Draco put on his best pleadingly innocent face.

"All right," agreed Harry finally. "To be honest I haven't been sleeping myself. Let me just get some more water... and could you charm away this headache for me?"

"Of course."

Finally Harry climbed into bed with Draco again, putting his glasses back on the nightstand and switching off the light. He lay down on his back and Draco immediately curled up against him in his usual position with his head resting on Harry's shoulder and one hand splayed across his chest.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"It's fine," said Harry, covering Draco's hand with his own and turning his face in to rest against Draco's hair. "This is fine."

And in a way it was. At least it was better, and that was all he had been looking for. For it to be better.

-----------

Ron and Hermione dashed down the corridor behind Professor McGonagall with equally panicked looks on their faces. When Ron had discovered Harry's bed empty this morning but for a spilled bottle of vodka and a blood stained knife his heart had dropped into his belly. He had gone through Harry's trunk looking for the Marauders Map and when he hadn't found it he had woken Hermione and they had immediately run for the nearest teacher. Right now they were headed for the Headmaster's office.

Halfway there they came across Professor Snape who nodded curtly at them.

"Wait, Severus," McGonagall stopped him. "Have you seen Harry anywhere?"

Snape turned back to them. "Potter? No." He took in their worried faces. "Is there a problem?"

McGonagall explained what Ron had found on Harry's bed.

Snape looked thoughtful. "Draco Malfoy was supposed to meet with me this morning, he didn't show up. I was just going to his room to check on him. I rather suspect we may find Potter there too."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances as McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Why would Potter be with Malfoy?" she asked.

"Just an educated guess," Snape said dryly. "Why don't we check before we get too worked up over his fate." Snape led them to Malfoy's new room and knocked on the door. "Draco?" he called. "It's Professor Snape." There was no answer. With a frown Snape drew out his wand and tapped the door, muttering a password of some sort. The door swung open and he stepped inside. "Draco?" With a swish of his wand he swept open the curtains.

The two boys curled together in the bed shifted slightly with the influx of light but didn't wake up. Harry turned away from the window onto his side and Draco burrowed against his back.

Professor McGonagall took in the sight with a brief cry of surprise. "Goodness."

"As suspected," said Snape, sounding rather amused despite the look of vague disgust on his face. "Potter is quite alright."

Ron and Hermione sagged with relief at the sight of Harry not only alive but apparantly reconciled with Malfoy. However their relief was waylaid as they noted Professor McGonagall building up a head of steam. Hermione gave Ron a horrified look. "She'll put him right back where we started!" she hissed at him.

"Mr Potter..." began Professor McGonagall loudly, but before she could get any further Ron and Hermione grabbed an arm each and dragged her backwards out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Snape looked after them with a raised eyebrow.

"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Professor McGonagall spluttered.

"I'm really sorry, Professor," said Hermione earnestly. "I just couldn't let you shout at Harry."

"Mr Potter has broken numerous school rules, never mind just scaring us all half to death with his little disappearing act. Being shouted at should be the least of his worries. As to what he thinks he's doing spending the night in Mr Malfoy's room..."

"But that's just it," Hermione tried to explain. "Harry's kind of .... sensitive about his thing with Malfoy. I know he's broken the rules but if you shout at him right now we might never get him to accept that what he feels isn't wrong."

"What are you talking about, Miss Granger? What thing?"

"Oh... you mean you don't...." stammered Hermione.

Professor McGonagall suddenly realised what Hermione was talking about. "You mean... oh, my." She looked at the closed door. "With Mr Malfoy?"

"I'm sure they were just sleeping," put in Ron. "They broke up a couple of weeks ago, well Harry dumped him, cause my Mum shouted at them for... er... stuff. So you see that's why you can't shout at him, cause my Mum did and he spent the last two weeks... well, we were really worried about him. It wasn't good."

---------

Inside the room Professor Snape cast an vaguely irritated look at the two sleeping boys and said loudly, "Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, I think it's about time the two of you woke up!"

With the last, sharply emphasised syllable both of them snapped awake.

"Wha?" said Harry blearily as Draco immediately identified the other person in the room and sat up with a look of shock.

"We had an appointment this morning, Mr Malfoy," said Snape silkily. "You missed it. Ten points from Slytherin for sleeping in." He eyed Harry. "And five more for giving me the displeasure of having to see Potter in bed with you."

By this time Harry had put on his glasses and was doing an expression of a terrified and humiliated goldfish.

"I'd make it ten more but you get off lightly for giving me the amusing sight of Minerva McGonagall completely speechless."

"What!?" cried Harry.

"You will meet me after lunch instead, Draco," Snape continued.

"McGonagall was here?" asked Draco, casting a concerned glance at Harry.

"I believe Mr Potter's friends are holding her in check, I shall go and speak to her myself in a moment." He glared at Harry. "You are very lucky that I like Mr Malfoy a great deal more than I like you," he told him. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for being out of your dormitory last night." Then he swept out of the room.

Harry stared after him in shock.

"It's okay, Harry," Draco tried to soothe him. "Snape already knows about us."

"Snape already knows!"

"I spoke to him when I got back to school from the Burrow. I thought he could help calm Mrs Weasley down, but then he didn't need to cause she never got in touch with the school and I guess I just kept on talking to him about it. He was... well not really helpful, but he was there and he listened."

"You told Snape!"

"Harry, calm down."

"Calm down? Snape knows, Ron's Mum knows, Sirius knows, Seamus and Dean know, Professor McGonagall knows... is there anyone who doesn't know?"

"Harry you're over-reacting. People knowing isn't a bad thing. So you were out of your dorm, it wouldn't be the first time you got caught breaking a school rule."

"She'll think we were... she'll expel us!"

"She will not!"

"She will!"

"Snape won't let her."

"Snape isn't the assistant head of the school."

"Oh, for pete's sake." Draco stalked out of bed and threw open the bedroom door to reveal Snape and McGonagall standing outside talking. "Will somebody please come in here and tell Harry he's not going to be expelled before he talks himself into another nervous breakdown."

The two teachers looked over at Harry who was still sitting in bed, now doing an impression of a rabbit in car headlights. He clutched the blankets to his chest unconsciously.

Fortunately McGonagall reacted to his stark terror with an uncommonly parental expression. "Now, now, Harry," she said, re-entering the room. "It's not as bad as all that. We were just worried about you when you weren't in your room this morning. Mr Weasley seemed to think you might have... done something foolish."

Snape rolled his eyes as if to say he considered most of the things Harry did extremely foolish.

Harry looked up at McGonagall, now doing his doe-eyed deer impression. "We were just sleeping," he stammered.

"I'm sure you were."

"Draco has nightmares."

Now it was Draco's turn to glare at Harry, he considered his nightmares to be none of McGonagall's business.

"Why don't the two of you get dressed and have some lunch. We can talk about this later."