A Fine Line

Thanks to Oldoverholt for Beta'ing!

Chapter Two

Later that evening Harry sat alone in the dark kitchen, staring blearily at his empty wine glass, watching the faint candlelight prism through the cuts in the crystal. He had emptied it long before it had gotten dark outside, long before the candles had burned low. He had emptied it several times, as a matter of fact. He picked up the nearly empty bottle and glass, took them to the counter, and looked at the baking dish on the stove. He had made Draco's favorite lemon and herb fish, but it no longer looked edible, it looked dried up and lonely. Like me, he mused, then laughed at himself for sounding so ridiculous. He picked at the edge of a piece with a fork, and gave it up as a loss. Draco had not come home from work yet, and had not called, again. Oh, well, he thought, he can fix a sandwich.

Harry briefly considered the idea of taking a sobering potion and getting ready for work, and then rejected it. Going into the living room, he used the Floo and told Parvati that he had a terrible headache, only a small fib, he thought, and that he was going to bed. He went back to the kitchen and picked up the rest of the bottle of wine. He considered the glass, then took a drink directly from the bottle, and stumbling a little, carried it upstairs to finish while he undressed for bed.

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"Ouch!" Harry was awakened by a sharp pain in the side of his head. He tried to lift it to look around the room, and found he was pinned to the pillow by his hair. He could see nothing in the darkness, but felt a hand at the back of his neck, and reached back to grab the wrist attached to it. He deftly flipped the man off of him onto the floor with a loud thump. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and turned it onto the figure on the floor, and felt his jaw drop. Draco lay flat on his back on the hooked rug, looking astonished. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry shouted, lowering his wand. "I could have really hurt you!" He picked up his glasses and put them on, his hands shaking as he laid his wand aside.

"I just got home," Draco explained, getting to his feet as Harry sat down on the bed, " and I thought it would be a nice way to wake you, you looked so delicious asleep." He rubbed his wrist ruefully. "I guess I should have called your name or something...sorry about your hair."

"I guess you should have," Harry snapped. "You scared the hell out of me." He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then glared at Draco, who was still holding his wrist, looking at Harry uncertainly. "Where were you?" Harry asked. "I made your favorite, you promised me you would be home." He turned his head away from Draco, looking at the quilt crumpled on the bed. He picked absently at a stray thread, feeling suddenly tired. "We haven't had dinner together in ages." He hated himself for sounding so needy. The bed sank down beside him as Draco sat and took his hand. He felt a kiss land on his shoulder, and then his neck. He turned into Draco's embrace, and buried his face in Draco's chest. "I've just missed you so. I haven't seen you in forever, it seems. When you are home, you're always thinking about work." He felt Draco's lips in his hair, his fingers in the dark strands.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into Harry's hair, and inhaled sharply. "I've missed you, too." He lifted Harry's face to kiss him, and teased his mouth open, hands roving over his chest and pushing him down on the bed, surprisingly insistent. Harry moaned softly into the kiss, and Draco responded with crushing pressure, rolling onto him and moving urgently against him. Almost before he knew it, his boxers were off, and they were moving together, Draco pulling him urgently over...pushing him down.... Harry moaned with mingled pain and pleasure as Draco moved between his legs, pressing against him insistently.

"Wait..." Harry moaned, "slower...please...."

Draco swore, and spat onto his fingers, spreading the moisture. He moved back to Harry roughly, kissing him, leaving love bites down his neck and chest, pulling his leg up higher. His erection nudged at Harry's entrance, and suddenly Draco was thrusting, hard, fast...too fast. Harry cried out softly and bit his lower lip, tasting blood, catching his hand in Draco's hair. Draco moved urgently, climaxed quickly, and came to rest on Harry's chest, breathing heavily. "You are delicious," he whispered, nibbling at Harry's neck, sucking gently on his earlobe. He rolled over off Harry, who hissed sharply at the burning sensation, and pulled him close for a kiss. "I love you," Draco murmured into his jaw line as he moved to rest by Harry, placing his arms around him snugly.

Harry lay silent, stunned, as Draco drifted quickly to sleep, snoring softly, his arms wrapped possessively around him. What the hell was that? he thought, as he gingerly slid out of Draco's embrace and got up slowly from the bed. Wincing at the stinging pain as he moved, he walked slowly to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the water was warm he stepped in and allowed the water to run over his face and down his sore body. Draco has never been like this in bed, he thought. He has never been rough, or hurtful. What is going on? Harry stood for a long time in the shower, watching pink tinged water swirl down the drain, then turned it to cold, shivering in the icy spray for a moment before stepping out.

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Harry wrapped himself in his comforting old bathrobe and his oldest, softest loungers, and went back into the bedroom, looking warily at the figure on the bed. Draco was definitely asleep; in fact he did not seem to have moved at all while Harry was in the shower. His hand lay over his eyes, and his pale hair was spread over the pillow. He sneezed once in his sleep, and turned over to his side, facing the wall. What on earth is going on with you?

Harry sighed as he saw Draco's designer jacket lying in a heap, and moved to pick it up from the floor. He shook it out and slipped his hand into the pocket, placing Draco's keys on the bedside table. He slid his hand into the other pocket and hissed with pain. He pulled his hand out and inspected his forefinger, which now had a fine line of bright red blood at the tip. He sucked at it briefly as took the jacket over to the bed and tipped the pocket out, allowing the contents to fall onto the bed. His forehead creased with confusion at the sight of the pink plastic pocket mirror, pink? and the small piece of broken glass. What are you doing with something like this, Draco? Draco was gay, yes, and was indeed vain, but check his appearance with a mirror like this? He dropped the broken mirror and the sliver of glass in Draco's wastebasket, and hung the jacket in the wardrobe. He covered Draco with the bedspread, and slid onto his side of the bed, on top of the covers, pulling up the quilt. When sleep came, it was filled with strangely blurred images of Draco.

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Harry awoke early the next morning, and showered quietly. He looked at his loungers, smeared with dried blood, and dropped them into the wastebasket in the bathroom with a disgusted expression. Never thought I'd have to do that, he mused, dressing silently. He headed down into the kitchen, opened the window for the owl delivering the Daily Prophet, and pushed a knut into its leather pouch. He sat down with a mug of tea, grimacing with discomfort at sitting, and read the entire paper. Every single word. He even read the ads for Madame Mulkin's Robes for All Occasions, where there was a sale on dress robes for children, and for Flourish and Blotts where Newt Scamander's books were ½ off. The words swam and blurred in his vision; he became distracted and stared into space for a few moments, but he resumed his relentless reading. He needed the words to drown out the thoughts that continued to scream inside his head. What on earth happened last night? Who was that in my bed? He finally finished the last page, and went to the sink to rinse his cup. He watched the dregs of the tea swirl down the drain and, gripping the side of the basin with both hands, began to cry.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there before he felt hands at his waist turning him around, and Draco pulling him into an embrace. He closed his eyes; he hadn't heard the footsteps over the water running and didn't want Draco to have the satisfaction of seeing him in tears.

"Harry," he said, "are you okay?" His face wore a confused expression, and he touched Harry's cheek gently. "What is it, love?" Harry's hands remained at his sides, not resisting Draco's touch, but not returning it, either.

He leaned back after a moment and, taking a deep breath, looked into Draco's face. "Who were you last night?"

"I...what do you mean?" Draco's eyes widened slightly.

"I don't even know who you were last night," Harry said, wearily. "First you scared me to death; I nearly cursed you before I even knew it was you." He looked down at the floor and whispered, "Then you fucked me like a stranger. All the time we've been together, you have never done that to me." Harry pulled away and turned back to the sink to turn off the tap. "You never hurt me before." He wiped his eyes, furious at himself for continuing to cry.

"I'm sorry, Harry. So, so sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you last night, either." Draco had dropped his hands to his sides as well. He pushed back his sleep-messy hair, and rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't know what was wrong with me. I just saw you there, in the bed, and you looked so beautiful; I couldn't wait to shag you. I've missed you desperately, you have to know that." He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, and put his head down into his hands. "I'm so very sorry, Harry. I never meant to hurt you." His shoulders sagged, and he slid his head down onto folded arms.

Harry eyed him warily. Draco had apologized before, for trivial things, but there had never been such a heartfelt tone in his voice. Of course, he had never done anything like this, but his apologies were usually light and quick. For him to give an explanation and an apology, well... "I just don't understand what's going on with you right now. You aren't yourself," Harry said, slowly. "You are working more than ever. You're never here when you say you will be." He knew he sounded petty, but pushed on. "I try to understand when you have to work extra, or work late. I just want you to be honest with me." He moved to the table and put his hand on Draco's shoulder, causing him to look up at Harry. He held up his left hand, which bore a silver band with a fine line of gold down the center, and bent and placed it on Draco's left hand, which bore its mate. "You promised me, once, that you would love me and be honest with me forever, remember?" Draco nodded, miserably. "I love you forever, too." He slid his fingers through Draco's and squeezed, then sat down in the chair by Draco, still holding his hand.

Draco rubbed the ring on Harry's finger with his thumb, feeling its texture, and then raised the hand to his lips. He kissed Harry's fingers softly. "I do love you." He leaned in and kissed Harry, a soft chaste kiss. Harry nodded mutely, and buried his face in Draco's shoulder. "Forever."

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Harry sighed and stretched, as Draco turned off the TV and picked up the supper things, taking them to the kitchen. He felt relaxed and warm, sitting by the fire on the sofa. Draco had gone out for takeaway Chinese food at lunch, they had eaten the leftover for supper, and Harry had not even dressed all day. They had snuggled on the sofa watching an old Muggle love story, Draco teasing Harry often about his enjoyment of them. Draco likes them just as much but refuses to admit it. They had not spoken about last night again, but Draco seemed determined to be loving and gentle, and had indulged Harry with dinner and movies.

Draco reappeared in front of the couch and held his hands out to Harry, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go to bed, babe." Harry looked at him suspiciously, surely he doesn't expect... Draco took in the expression on Harry's face and shook his head. "To sleep," he said, firmly.

As they made their way upstairs to bed, Harry remembered the pink pocket mirror. "Draco, last night when I picked up your jacket, I was emptying the pockets and I found your, um...mirror in one of them. A pink mirror, I might add. It was broken, and I cut my finger, see?" He held up the injured finger for inspection.

"Sophia at the office gave it to me." Draco laughed strangely, and shook his blond head. "She thinks I'm vain. Can you imagine?" He pulled a face at Harry, who rolled his eyes, and continued. "She said she thought I might need to check myself throughout the day. I forgot it was in my pocket. I must have bumped it and broken it. Sorry about your finger." He sat down on the bed and pulled Harry's hand to him, kissing said finger. "All fixed, or do you need a plaster?"

Harry laughed. "All fixed, but just how poofed are you, anyway? To have a pink mirror?"

Draco's gray eyes twinkled as he drew Harry into a hug. "One hundred percent bent for you."

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Parvati met Harry as soon as apparated into the staff lounge Tuesday morning for his return to day shift, her blue Healer's robes swirling around her as she rushed up to him. "Harry, you have to come into Lani's room, there's someone you just have to meet." Oh, no, I have to meet her family, he thought. I know they're going to be asking questions about why she's still sleeping... She grabbed his hand and tugged, nearly dancing with excitement, causing him to just drop his jacket and keys into a chair and follow her down the hall to the doorway of the room. She stepped aside, and placed her hand on his back, urging him inside.

He approached Lani's bed, and he grinned in surprise. Lani was propped up on several pillows, a healthy pink glow in her cheeks, looking at him questioningly with clear hazel eyes. He glanced back at Parvati who was grinning from ear to ear. She was awake! Did I know what color her eyes were? he thought, as he approached the bedside. He was drawn to them, mesmerized for a moment by the flecks of amber that highlighted them, and then shook himself slightly. "Welcome back, Lani. I wondered when you would decide to wake up." Her eyes clouded, she blinked and squinted slightly. Her expression was confused. No, she looks a little disoriented is all.

"Do you know where you are, Lani?" She turned her head in his direction and nodded.

"Hospital." She replied. "St. Mungo's?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes," then looked closely at her eyes, and a realization hit him, probably because he was so dependent upon them himself. "Lani, do you usually wear glasses?"

She touched the side of her face with her fingers, and nodded. "Contact lenses, actually," she said, "but I guess they're out..."

He smiled, and went to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and found a pair of glasses inside along with some other personal items, a brush, and some socks. "Try these." She put them on and her expression cleared as she looked around the room, then back at him.

"Thanks. Who are you?" she asked, tipping her head curiously as her fingers now rolled and unrolled the blanket edge.

"I'm Harry, your physical therapist. I've been doing muscle exercises for you while you were sleeping."

"You...Harry...I know you? Your voice...you talked to me about a hippogriff...and a man named...Drake?" She shook her head, her reddish hair flipping softly, her forehead creased with a fine line under her fringe. She had twisted the blanket in her hands, and looked nervous.

He nodded, "Yes, I did," and took her hand. "It's okay to feel confused, Lani. I know how you feel. I slept for a long time once, just like you. It gets better." He smiled encouragingly.

She gripped his hand tightly, and closed her eyes briefly. "I do know you. I remember your voice. Would you sit with me, until my family comes? Talk to me? I don't care what you talk about."

"Sure I will, I'll be glad to stay." He sat down in the chair next to the bed, still holding her hand.

Lani looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She finally cleared her throat and asked, "Harry, can I ask you something?"

He nodded. "Sure. Ask me anything," he said, expecting a question about how long she had been sick.

She tilted her head again and bit her lower lip, then asked, "Are you, um...are you wearing...eyeliner?"

He burst out laughing and nodded, and she raised an eyebrow, then smiled. He shrugged, grinning, and started to talk, about anything and nothing.

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