A Fine Line

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse (later chaps)

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, but they feel like friends. JKR owns them, I just love them

Chapter Three

Harry fairly floated into the house that evening, exhausted but fulfilled after his day with Lani. She had become calmer while he talked with her, and he had treated his other patients in between spending time with her, staying later than his assigned shift to finish. When her parents arrived, she had introduced him as my friend, Harry. They had expressed their gratitude over and over for his care of her, for taking her care so personally. It was as wonderful as I thought it would be, he thought, to make a difference to someone. Even someone you don't really know. He fixed a mug of tea and took it upstairs with him, thinking about Lani as he went. He took a warm shower and pulled on a worn pair of jeans, and lay down on the bed. There was one of Draco's magazines lying on the bed stand, and he picked it up briefly, but after a paragraph or two the words blurred together. I'm even too tired for Boys and Brooms. He took his glasses off and put them and the book on the stand, and drifted into a nap.

He awoke to the sounds of footsteps on the stairs, and stretched lazily on the bed. He opened his eyes and saw Draco enter the bedroom, taking off his jacket and tie, looking tired. "Hi, love," he yawned. "How was it today?"

"Mmm-kay," mumbled Draco, holding his tie in his mouth as he put the jacket on a hanger, then placed the tie in the pocket before hanging it in the wardrobe. "We really got a good bit done in Father's interests today, I'm sure his associate will be pleased." He stepped over to the bed and dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead, pushing back his hair. "I've got some more to do downstairs though. Go back to sleep, it's half past eight already. You may as well not get up." Before Harry could protest, he had left the room.

No...come back, thought Harry, and he resignedly rose from the bed, and pulled on a t-shirt over the jeans he wore, and padded barefoot down the stairs into the kitchen. Draco had the table spread with papers and files again. He flipped between two files, comparing information, and took notes on a yellow pad with an eagle feather quill. "I'm going to put on tea, do you want a cup?" He picked up the kettle and filled it at the tap, then flicked his wand at it, heating the contents before adding hot water to the pot.

Draco shook his head. "I'm okay, thanks."

"Dinner? I could make a shepherd's pie."

"No thanks, I had a sandwich at the office."

Harry tried not to feel disappointed; shepherd's pie was one of Draco's favorite meals and he had thought he could tempt him with it. He busied himself with a mug and the milk, poured the tea and sat down at the end of the table, careful not to disturb the piles of paperwork. "My patient woke up today. Remember I told you about her? Her name is Lani. Well, I've been talking to her, you know, while I was doing her therapy. She woke up today, and remembered me talking to her, even some of the things I told her about school, and Buckbeak, and you. She thought your name was Drake, though." Harry smiled at the thought. Drake...

Draco sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, love. It's just not a good time right now. I really have to finish this, you know?" He stood up abruptly, dropping his quill, and moved to the kitchen window, opening it wide. "Gods, it's hot in here." He leaned against the sill and put his head outside, looking over the garden. "It's lovely out there, the lilacs smell wonderful." He breathed deeply of the cool air, and then just as suddenly he closed the window, and returned to the table. He pulled out a handkerchief and sneezed into it, once, twice, three times. "Shit. I must be getting another sinus cold. My nose always gets so dry. Maybe I'm just feverish..." He looked at Harry, taking in his confused expression. He smiled reassuringly. "I'm sorry, I'm just anxious about this," he gestured at the table. "I don't mean to be a whiner. Soon it will all be over. I'll be working just a few more late nights, and then this case will be done. Just stick with me, okay?" He sat down at the table and turned back to his pad and quill.

Harry nodded, uncertainly, and got up with his mug. "Do you have a headache? I can get you a potion..."

Draco shook his head, and waved his hand dismissively, not looking up from his papers, his foot tapping restlessly against the table leg.

"I'll be in the living room, then, if you need anything. There's probably a movie or something on." He headed in and curled up on the couch with his tea, feeling slightly disappointed. He had really wanted Draco to share his excitement about Lani. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, he chided himself softly, he's working hard because he loves you. But Draco seemed so disjointed somehow; he was not really irritable, well maybe a little...but agitated. He pulled a little blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it snugly around his feet, then picked up the remote and began the search for something decent to watch to distract himself from his thoughts.

Harry awakened later to Draco's gentle touch on his face. "Come on, sleepyhead, its nearly midnight. Let me take you to bed." Draco turned off the television and held out a hand. Harry took it, hesitantly, and allowed himself to be led upstairs.

Draco tucked him in securely and kissed him before going to shower, and returned a little while later, warm and fresh, to climb in beside him. He laid his head on Harry's shoulder comfortably. He had used a drying charm on his hair, and it was warm and soft on Harry's chest. Harry put his arm around Draco, and pulled him closer. He kissed the top of the blond head, and murmured, "I love you," into his hair. Draco mumbled something unintelligible, and Harry smiled. How can one person love another so completely? They had kissed, but chastely tonight. There was no physical passion, but Harry did not think he could feel more passionate about this man if they had made love all night. I just wish I knew what's going on with you... He closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillows, with his fingers stroking through that soft, blond hair, and fell asleep.

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"Ouch!" Harry's fingers, entangled in Draco's hair, were pulled as Draco sat up abruptly in bed. What the...?

"Oh, shit!" Draco exclaimed. Harry pulled his hand free and lit the lamp as Draco scrambled to his side of the bed and pulled a handkerchief from his bedside table and pressed it to his face. "I've got a nosebleed, I think." He pulled the white cloth away, and Harry saw the blossom of dark blood in the center of it. He touched his nose, and looked at the blood on his fingers. "Oh, no...I'm going to be sick..." He looked slightly pale, and swallowed, grimacing. Harry reached over and took the handkerchief, pressed it to Draco's nose, and pinched firmly, telling Draco to close his eyes.

Sick from a little blood, Harry thought, amused. "Tip your head forward. That way the blood won't go into your throat and make you sick to your stomach," he said, comfortingly. He placed a cool hand at the back of Draco's neck, and rubbed softly. "You're going to be okay. Just hold this here a second, while I get a towel and some ice. Pinch it, and don't look, okay?" Draco nodded, his eyes closed, and moved his hand up to hold the handkerchief to his nose. Harry got up and went swiftly down to the kitchen for a few ice cubes, and wrapped them in a kitchen towel, and then grabbed another clean one from under the sink. Strange, a nosebleed in the middle of the night. He returned to Draco and took the sodden handkerchief from him, replacing it with the towel. "Gosh, Draco, you're still bleeding a lot," he said, as he held the ice to Draco's forehead and the bridge of his nose. "Should I call Severus, do you think?"

Draco seemed to panic at the mention of his godfather. His eyes opened wide and he shook his head fervently. "He'll jusd worry for doe reasod," he said, his nose still pinched shut, "dode wake hib, Harry." He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and grimaced at the taste of blood on his lips.

"Okay, If you say so," said Harry, reluctantly. "Sure, I can handle this...you're going to be just fine." He took the edge of the towel and wiped Draco's lips and face where the blood had dripped. He held pressure for a few minutes, stroking Draco's hair with his other hand, soothing him. Draco was breathing raggedly through his mouth, and trembling.

"Just sit still now, I want to see if the bleeding has stopped." Draco tipped his head upright, and Harry released the pressure on the towel. He gently wiped around Draco's nose, and smiled. "I think it has, but let's keep that ice pack on for a bit, just to be sure." Draco nodded, and leaned back uncertainly as Harry propped several pillows under him, and placed the towel and ice across his face.

"I'b sorry, Harry," he whispered. "Whad rubbish."

"Don't be thick, everyone gets a nosebleed once in a while," replied Harry, grinning. "Good to see you're still human, with red blood and everything. I was beginning to think you were a working robot." He picked up the towels and the handkerchief, tossing them into the sink and running some cold water on them. He noticed a spot of blood on his own t-shirt, from where Draco had slept pillowed on his chest; he shed it and dropped it into the cold water as well. He washed his hands and wrung out a clean cloth in the cool water, and came back to gently wash Draco's bloody face, shushing him occasionally, as Draco continued to apologize. He cast a cleaning charm on the bedclothes to remove the drops of blood that had fallen there. "Just go to sleep," he said, finally, and tucked the covers in around him, kissing his forehead softly.

When sleep came for Draco, it was restless. He moaned in his sleep, moving fitfully, and Harry soothed him with his voice and hands, rubbing his back and hair, crooning soothingly into his ear. Gradually Draco relaxed, and moved closer to Harry, pillowing on his shoulder. Harry held him and lay awake for a long time, thoughts of Draco's strange behavior running relentlessly through his head.

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The morning found Harry waking up alone again. He looked around the bedroom for signs of Draco, then heard the shower running and let out a relieved breath. He got up and approached the door, listening for singing; Draco often sang in the bath. He knocked softly and then opened the door, peeking his head around it. Draco was standing in the shower with his arms folded on the tile wall, leaning his head into his arms, his back to the spray. The design of the shower stall made a curtain unnecessary, with glass blocks on one side, and a curving wall to redirect the water, and Harry could see Draco look up as Harry's reflection showed in the shiny glass. His hair was dripping, his face still slightly bloody from the night before. He had shampooed his hair, but had obviously had not washed his face.

"Draco? Are you okay?" Harry asked, timidly, handing Draco a flannel. "You still have a little blood on your face."

Draco shook his head, and reached for the cloth Harry offered. "Thanks. I feel like shit." He put cleanser on the cloth and gingerly put it to his face, wincing as he washed across and under his nose. "I don't know what happened last night, but I must have slept in fifty wrong positions. I'm achy and itchy and feel like a million insects are walking on me." He stepped under the water, and rinsed his face carefully, then wriggled as if to rid himself of the 'bugs'.

Harry smiled at Draco's theatrics and rolled his eyes. "You can be such a pansy, really, Draco. Insects...I ask you."

Draco pulled a wry face, and reached for Harry's scratchy-puff thing, put some soap on it, and began scrubbing vigorously at himself. "It really itches, Harry. Maybe I got into stinging nettles or something."

Harry laughed out loud at this, the idea of Draco going anywhere undeveloped enough to have nettles was unthinkable. He discarded his robe and loungers. "Here, give me that," he said, stepping into the shower and taking the puff. "Turn around." He inspected the pale skin for a rash or bite marks, but saw nothing. "Nope, no nettle rash, love, and I don't see any kind of bites. I could give you some, though." He grinned, and moved closer, scrubbing Draco's back with firm circular motions. "How's that?"

"Mmmm..." was Draco's response, and he leaned against the wall of the shower to brace himself. "It helps some," he admitted. He moved from the wall, turned to Harry and pulled him close. He took the puff from his hand and dropped it to the floor, sliding his hands to Harry's hips and pulling him into a kiss, sliding his tongue over Harry's lips and gently parting them. Harry moaned slightly and tasted Draco's clean mouth, teasing his tongue, and placed his hand on Draco's neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss.

"I love you..." he murmured, moving his hands to cup Draco's face. He ran his hands into Draco's silky blond hair, reveling in the feel of it.

Draco pulled away slightly, and moved his lips to Harry's ear, "I love you too," he whispered, planting a tiny kiss on the lobe, before bending abruptly to scratch his knee. "Sorry, love, I've got to get ready for work. See you downstairs." He stepped out of the shower and grabbing a towel, exited the bathroom without looking back.

Harry stood still, not believing what had just happened. Draco, a tease? He moaned in frustration, pressing his hand to his groin firmly for a moment, then turned the taps full to cold to try to put out the fire Draco had started.

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Harry entered the kitchen buttoning his jeans as Draco was putting an empty teacup into the sink, and stepped in front of him. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "It's not like you to be a tease."

"Sorry, Harry," Draco said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have started that. I don't have time for this today." He scratched his arm absently, and Harry noticed several long red welts there. "I need to just focus and get to work...get this job done."

"But surely, it's not even the time you normally leave yet," protested Harry. "Can't we just have breakfast?"

"Harry, you have got to grow up. I'm working on building a career here, and you don't seem to consider that it could be more important in the grand scheme of things than an early morning shag. I can't believe you." He bent to tie his shoe and scratched fiercely at his ankle. "Something must have bitten me..." he muttered. He shook his head and went into the downstairs bathroom, and was gone for several minutes. Harry could hear water running, and then a flush. "Look. I've got a lot on my plate right now. You have to understand if I have to devote time to things other than you right now. I understood when you were studying for your exams, and trying to work at the clinic."

"That was different." Harry tried to decide how to explain to Draco exactly how it had been different, and could not come up with a way that didn't sound childish. "Whatever. Just go to work. I'll see you at dinner. Maybe." He stepped over to the stove and put on water for tea.

"Shit." Draco's voice was suddenly stuffy. Harry turned around, and saw Draco clutching a handful of bloody tissues to his nose. "I must have a sinus cold after all." He pinched firmly with one hand, and picked up his case with the other. "I'll call you later," he said, and stepped out the front door.

Sure, you will, Harry thought.

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