Tending to Harry

When Draco stepped into the pub, the first thing he noticed was how hazy the lighting was. There was a thick layer of cigarette smoke in the air, and Draco felt his eyes begin to burn. It was also rather warm and he wished he weren't wearing so many layers. As he unbuttoned his coat he realized he was also horridly overdressed for this particular establishment; his cashmere jumper and creased trousers definitely stood out amongst the jeans and battered jackets most of the other patrons were wearing.

He noticed a few folks were giving him odd looks but ignored them, scanning the pub for Harry. He knew Harry was most likely at the bar, although from the sound of his voice when he'd rung Draco's mobile, he certainly shouldn't have been.

Draco's eyes found Harry's back then, just as the bartender slid another drink into his hand. Making his way across the room quickly, Draco's fingers closed over Harry's wrist, preventing him from raising the glass to his mouth.

"I think you've had quite enough," Draco said. He used his other hand to pull the glass out of Harry's slack grip, and set it on the bar.

Harry's head lolled to the side as he turned to look at him. "I don't. I don't think I've had nearly enough." His words were slurred, and the pain still evident in his eyes made Draco's heart clench.

Draco sighed, sitting down next to him. "You know getting pissed won't solve anything."

Harry rolled his eyes and pointedly picked up the glass of liquor, downing it in one gulp. "Another," he said to the bartender, "and one for my friend, too."

Draco gave the bartender a minute shake of his head. "Harry, I really think we should go."

"Don't be such a wet blanket," Harry said. His voice was unusually loud, and Draco winced slightly as the people around them turned to stare.

Against his better judgment, Draco allowed the bartender to give Harry another drink, which he again downed in one go, and also took a healthy gulp of his own when it was set down in front of him. The alcohol helped steady Draco's nerves, which were slightly frayed after a difficult day at work, not to mention the nearly two-hour search he'd gone on in order to find Harry, and the worrying he'd done while trying to locate him.

Once Harry had downed the drink, he put his head down on the bar and sighed loudly. Draco watched him silently, hoping he would speak. He knew Harry had gone to see the Weaselette earlier that day and had had a whole romantic evening set up for her. Draco grimaced slightly at the thought, but pushed those feelings aside. Something had obviously happened and Draco wanted to know what it was. Perhaps then he'd be able to figure out what to do.

"What happened, Harry?" Draco asked softly.

Harry heaved another sigh, tilting his head to the side in order to look at Draco. "Don't want to talk about it."

Draco looked at him for a moment, then nodded once. "Fair enough. Let's get you out of here."

"Okay," Harry finally said after a long moment, and started to stand up. Draco had to reach out and grab him, though, because his legs gave out underneath him, and they both fell to the floor, Draco supporting his weight on his knees. The position put their faces very close to each other, and Draco felt his breath catch in his throat. It would be so easy - so very easy - to just lean forward that little bit and close the distance between their lips. So very, very easy....

"I guess I'm a bit more sloshed than I thought," Harry said, and his voice broke the spell. Draco jerked backwards, banging his head on the edge of the barstool, and he swallowed a curse.

Harry looked at him curiously, and Draco forced a smile on his face. That had been a little too close for comfort; it wouldn't have done to have snogged Harry right there in the middle of the pub. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I told you I'd thought you'd had enough when I got here."

Harry shrugged, the motion very uncoordinated. Draco tightened his hold on the other man and hauled him to his feet. It was a lot more difficult than Draco had thought it'd be, because Harry had seemingly lost all his coordination and was rather limp in Draco's arms.

"Harry, just sit back down for a minute, okay? I need to pay your tab." Harry nodded dazedly and Draco pulled out some Muggle money. "How much?" he asked the bartender.

The amount made Draco nearly choke, but he handed over the money and again pulled Harry to his feet. "You are so going to owe me, Potter," he muttered, looping one arm across Harry's back to help pull him to his feet.

"Sure," Harry said, voice slurring the word. "Anything you want."

Draco nearly groaned at the thought of what he did want. It was a phenomenally bad idea to think such things when Harry was so bloody close to him. Harry slung his arm across Draco's shoulders, and the two of them stumbled to the door of the pub and outside. They nearly fell when Harry got his feet tangled up with Draco's, but Draco managed to keep them standing.

"God, Potter, you're absolutely plastered," Draco said irritably.

"Mmm-hmm," Harry said, and then did something Draco was not expecting. He turned his body so that he was facing Draco and literally curled into his chest. Draco's arms tightened without thought around Harry's back, and it took a minute or so for Draco's brain to reengage. It feels so absolutely perfect, holding him like this, Draco thought to himself. He barely resisted the urge to kiss Harry's temple, which was oh-so-close to his mouth.

Someone driving past shouted something obscene, but Draco barely heard them. All he could think about was how wonderful Harry felt in his arms, and how desperately he wanted him. Gathering his wits, he stared around them, looking for the best place to Apparate from. With quite a lot of effort, Draco dragged Harry around the side of the pub into an alleyway. Harry complained fiercely the whole time, sounding more like a whinging two-year-old than a full-grown man, until Draco finally lost it.

"For God's sake, shut up!" he snapped. The anger in his voice startled Harry, who jumped slightly in his arms and looked up at him with wide eyes. Draco bit back a sigh and fought to calm down a bit. Harry didn't mean to be so ornery, he knew, but it was difficult enough trying to move him where he needed to go without him whinging on so.

"Sorry," Harry said in a small voice. "Don't be mad at me, Draco."

"I'm not," Draco replied, finally getting Harry leaning up against the brick wall of the pub. "It's just not the easiest thing dealing with an inebriated Harry Potter."

Harry looked bemused but tried to nod; it seemed like his head was heavy, though, because he had a hard time lifting it back up. "Take me home?" he asked in a pitiful voice, finally managing to raise his head and meeting Draco's gaze.

Draco swallowed hard. Harry's eyes were so green. "Right," he said hoarsely. "Hang on, then," and he Apparated them both to Harry's flat.

***

They Apparated into the center of Harry's living room, where Draco promptly tripped over a laundry basket, tumbling them both to the floor. The fall made Harry sprawl almost completely over Draco, and his traitorous body took immediate notice. Draco, panicking slightly, pushed Harry off him quickly and tried to stand up, but his foot had become stuck in the basket and the bastard thing caused him to trip yet again, bringing him down painfully on one of his knees.

He dislodged the basket with a furious shake of his leg, sending it flying across the room, laundry soaring through the air. Harry, meanwhile, seemed utterly confused about the onset of Draco's temper, and was looking at him with those damnable wide green eyes again, no doubt thinking he'd done something wrong.

Draco buried his face in his hands as he fought to control his anger, which was directed entirely at himself. Now was not the time for him to lose his control, not when Harry was so completely not himself. Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it silently, Draco mentally counted to ten before raising his head and speaking.

"Your place is a complete disaster, Harry," Draco finally said, and was pleased to note that his voice came out sounding nearly normal.

"Sorry," Harry replied, still regarding him nervously. "Wasn' 'shpecting comp'ny."

Draco laughed once. "No, I expect you weren't. Come on, Potter, let's get you to bed." Draco reached down and, with almost no help whatsoever from Harry himself, got him up off the floor. "Do you have any hangover potions?"

Harry's face crumpled up in thought. "Dunno," he finally said, and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Succinct and to the point, as ever," he said dryly.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Sorry, I imagine that was too large of a word for you to decipher in your present state."

Harry's bewilderment only grew, so Draco gave up speaking at all, instead stumbling along down the hallway, Harry's arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder. He managed to get the door open, although Harry was swaying dangerously at his side, and they finally made it into Harry's bedroom, where Draco was immediately confronted with the sight of Harry's bed. The bed he shared with the Weaselette. Draco felt his heart clench in his chest.

He hauled Harry over to the bed, where the other man collapsed onto it. Draco sunk down into the nearby chair in relief. His muscles were already complaining about having to maneuver Harry around, and the night wasn't even over, as Draco had no intention of leaving Harry by himself in the state he was in. God only knew what trouble he'd get into.

"Sleepy," murmured Harry, his eyes falling shut.

"Oh no you don't," Draco said, lurching to his feet. "I have to get some potions into you or you're going to regret it in the morning." He grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, sitting him up. "Sit up, Harry," he said needlessly. "And stay awake."

Harry's eyes opened lazily. "'m too sleepy, Draco," he complained. "Wanna go to bed."

Draco rolled his eyes. He would have never guessed that Harry would revert to childhood when dealing with too much liquor in his system. Harry started to nod off again, so he shook him gently by the shoulder. "Not yet."

Harry's expression when he opened his eyes closely mirrored that of an irritated toddler, and Draco bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Holding out his wand, he Summoned some hangover potion, crossing his fingers that Harry had some somewhere in his flat. He was in luck, as one bottle sailed out of the bathroom and into Draco's hand. He uncorked it, taking a quick whiff of it to make sure it was still good, before sitting down next to Harry on the bed.

He held the potion up to the other man's mouth. "Drink," he demanded, and Harry did, choking slightly on the taste.

"'s yucky," Harry muttered grumpily. Draco shrugged one shoulder in acknowledgement, setting the bottle on the night stand right in front of a picture of Harry and Ginny, smiling fondly at each other. Although Picture Harry gave him a sunny smile and a wave, Picture Ginny was sneaking furtive glances at Draco, irritation written clearly on her face. Draco sneered at her in reply.

Harry, in a brief moment of coherence, noticed where Draco's gaze was trained. He picked up the picture, looked at it briefly, then threw it across the room, smashing it into the wall of the bedroom.

"'s gone now," he said, sounding extremely pleased with himself.

"Yes," Draco said with a smile. "It's gone."

Harry nodded. His eyes started drooping again, so Draco shook him.

"Stay awake, Harry. I need to get a few more potions into you, but I don't have any with me, and I doubt you've got them, either. I'll need to use your fireplace so I can call someone. Okay?"

"I'll come with you," Harry said, and before Draco could grab him, had toppled himself off the bed and onto the floor with a thump.

"Harry, for God's sake," Draco said in exasperation, kneeling down on the ground next to him. Harry was blinking up at him and holding his elbow, which had apparently hit the leg of the nightstand when he'd fallen off the bed. "Now I suppose you need a pain relieving potion, too."

"Ouch," was Harry's response, a little belatedly but heartfelt nonetheless.

Draco couldn't help it. He started to laugh. The whole situation was so utterly ridiculous that he laughed and laughed until there were tears streaming down his face. Harry continued to look utterly perplexed, which didn't help the laughter. It took a great deal of time for Draco to stop laughing, but once he'd calmed himself enough so that only a chuckle or two escaped him, he wiped away the tears and stood.

"Stay there, Harry. And talk to me, so I know you're not asleep. I'll only be a minute."

"Mmmkay," Harry said, still holding his elbow.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" Draco asked, heading down the hallway towards the front room.

"No, I taked - tooken - I tooked the day off."

"You took the day off?" Draco clarified, grabbing a handful of Floo powder from the container on Harry's mantle, and tossing it into Harry's fireplace. As the flames flared green, he called out, "Blaise Zabini."

"Yeah," came Harry's reply.

"What do you want?" came Blaise's voice through the fireplace.

"Cheerful as ever, I see," Draco replied.

"What?" Harry asked from the bedroom.

"How many days do you have off?" Draco asked Harry, just as Blaise's head appeared in the fireplace in front of him.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Blaise drawled.

"I need to-" Draco started, but Harry's response cut him off.

"Sshree, I think. I mean, Th-three," Harry said. Draco could almost see the expression on Harry's face when his mouth refused to cooperate and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

"Good, because I think you're going to need all of them," Draco called back, and heard another thump from the bedroom, closely followed by another "Ouch."

Blaise had one eyebrow arched in question, and Draco decided he'd better hurry up and get what he needed before Harry seriously hurt himself.

"I need some pain relieving potions, and also some potions to settle someone's stomach." The sound of breaking glass came from the bedroom and Draco amended his previous statement, saying, "Better make that several of each. And a few more hangover potions, too."

Blaise smirked. "Did the Golden Boy have a rough night?"

"Something like that," Draco replied.

Blaise arched an eyebrow again. "And you're playing nursemaid? How sweet."

"Leave off, Blaise. Just get me the potions. I'll make you some replacements, plus a few of those ... enhancers you like so much."

Blaise disappeared and Draco sat back on his heels. "Harry?" he called. "Still awake?"

"Yes," came the grumpy reply from the bedroom. "But I hit my head, and now I'm bleeding."

"You're bleeding?" Draco asked, alarmed. "Where?"

"'s my hand. I assidently - assidentilily - oh, y'know, I knocked a stupid vase thing down by mistake."

"Are you bleeding badly?"

"Dunno," Harry said. "Can't really feel it."

Blaise reappeared in the fireplace. "All right, I've got you seven of each. I put an Unbreakable charm on them so they should come through in one piece."

He was interrupted by Harry's voice, which said, "Draco? I don't feel so good."

"No, I'm sure not," Draco murmured, earning another smirk from Blaise. "Just send them through, Blaise, okay? I need to get back to Harry."

"Of course you do," Blaise said slyly, and his head disappeared. Draco heard the sound of a box hitting the floor as he headed back down the hallway to Harry. When he reached the bedroom door he Summoned the package, catching it deftly, then headed in to see the latest injury.

There were pieces of glass all around Harry, so Draco quickly cleared that up. There was a piece of glass still lodged in Harry's palm, so Draco removed it with a spell, then set about healing the cuts and getting rid of the blood. Once that was finished, he opened the box and pulled out one of the stomach settling potions.

"Okay, time for bed," Draco said, setting the bottle on the nightstand next to the empty hangover potion. Wrapping his arms around Harry, he added dryly, "It'd be nice if you could help a little."

Harry's face was temptingly close to his again but Draco kept a tight grip on his hormones and managed to get him back on his feet. When he released him, Harry immediately sprawled backwards on the bed, feet still on the floor. Draco bent down and pulled off Harry's shoes, tossing them blindly across the room towards the closet. The socks followed.

Draco stood up and watched Harry for a moment. The man was trying unsuccessfully to unbutton his shirt, and Draco closed his eyes in resignation when he realized he was going to have to undress him.

"'m hot," Harry mumbled. "Don't feel well, either."

Draco sighed, then nodded. "Sit up, Harry, and I'll see what I can do about that."

Harry managed a sitting position with Draco's help, and dutifully swallowed everything Draco handed him, even though he grimaced with each potion.

The next few minutes were ones that Draco hoped never to have to relive again. Harry was completely lax while Draco tried to get him out of his clothes, and in fact was making it bloody difficult, as he refused to cooperate even a little bit.

"Damn it all, Harry!" Draco finally yelled. "I'm trying to help you, you git, so just stop being such a giant pain in the arse!"

Harry was looking at him wide-eyed, and Draco saw a small smile cross his lips. Harry mumbled something that was too quiet for Draco to hear, and when he asked for clarification, Harry shook his head slightly and didn't say anything.

Draco finally got the buttons of Harry's shirt open, and felt his breath catch at the sight of the bare skin in front of him. He lowered his head for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, before reaching to pull Harry's arms out of his sleeves. Harry's skin was very warm, and Draco felt a tightening in his groin that nearly made him groan in frustration. It was so bloody unfair. This was everything he wanted, right here in front of him, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

As he reached for the button on Harry's waistband and opened it, he noticed his hands were shaking, and was immediately thankful that Harry was so plastered he wouldn't notice. He lowered the zipper and set about sliding the trousers down Harry's legs, nearly groaning again as he had to bend down to his knees to pull them off. His own trousers were now uncomfortably tight, but he managed to stand back up. Harry lay in nothing but boxers, and Draco had to draw in another breath to steady himself. After a moment, he finally turned Harry in the bed and got him under the covers, where he promptly fell asleep.

Draco turned out the lights, and then, figuring he'd be out for a while, took some time to stare at Harry's face. It was slack with sleep and gleaming silver in the moonlight streaming in through the window, and Draco felt the undeniable need to touch. He reached out and ran a hand through Harry's hair, then slid it down, cupping Harry's face in his palm. Harry shifted slightly into his hand and Draco's heart lurched in his chest.

God, I want him, Draco thought to himself, and his trousers became even more unbearably tight, so he finally stepped away and into the loo, closing the door quietly. He opened his flies quickly and leaned his forehead on his arm, which he'd braced across the back of the door. With two, three strokes he was coming, hard, biting his lip to muffle his groan.