A Fine Line

Warnings: H/D Slash, substance abuse

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

Chapter Six

That Saturday morning dawned chilly and gray, and Harry groaned and turned away from the window to burrow deeper under the covers. He could tell it was dreary; his knee ached when it was damp. Draco fumbled under the quilt to pull Harry closer to him, and Harry settled into his embrace with a purr of satisfaction. He felt Draco's lips in his hair, planting kisses. A voice, "Are you okay?" Harry nodded, and opened his eyes to look at this beautiful man in his bed. Draco's eyes were worried. "I was afraid I had hurt you again," he said softly. Harry shook his head, before drifting to sleep again...

He pulled Draco into a passionate kiss, entwining his hands in that silky blond hair. Draco responded immediately, returning the kiss, his hands roving over Harry's body. He looked into Harry's eyes, mutely asking for permission to proceed. Harry moaned softly and nodded, as Draco pulled him closer, and soon there was nothing but the two of them, completely surrounded by each other. Draco had moved his hand in the air, conjuring the music again. Just whispers, moans... "Harry...I love you..." Oil smoothed onto skin, urgent pressure, oh... They rocked gently in an undeniable rhythm, then shuddered as they climaxed together. "Harry..."

"Harry? Are you okay?" Draco touched his face. "You were making noise. Was it a nightmare?"

Harry opened his eyes reluctantly, brought out of his dream. "Mmmm, just thinking of the lover I had last night. So lovely." He smiled softly. "I just don't want to get up. The sky is so dark outside and my knee hurts; let's just stay here today."

Draco took the covers and pulled them up over their heads, putting his nose tip-to-tip with Harry's. "Whatever you want, love." He kissed him softly, and then pulled him in to snuggle.

I could stay like this forever, Harry thought, as he drifted to sleep again, Draco's magical music echoing in his dreams.

"Harry." No... "Harry, come on." Go away, you tosser... "Harry! Come on..." The covers were rudely removed from his head, and he rolled over, blinking owlishly. "It's nearly noon and the sun is up. You've had enough of a lie-in." He felt Draco's hand take his, and pull him up from the warm nest of blankets. "Into the shower with you. I've made lunch downstairs."

Harry winced a bit at his knee, but allowed himself to be pushed into the shower where the water was running, already pleasantly hot, and stuck his head under the spray. "Okay, Mum..." he teased, reaching for the shampoo. He felt a sharp sting and jumped as Draco smacked his behind, and grinned. "I'll be down in a bit."

He entered the kitchen a quarter hour later, scrubbed and dressed, and swung Draco into a hug. "Harry, I'm getting water everywhere," he complained, waving a soapy sponge.

"Bugger the water...." Draco relaxed as Harry pulled him closer for a kiss, light and teasing, and then planted another on his forehead. "Thanks for letting me sleep," he murmured into Draco's hair. "I needed it, I guess." He turned to the cupboard for plates, and said, "It's our weekend off together, what shall we do?" He set out plates and silver as Draco rinsed his hands.

"I don't care, really," replied Draco, bringing over steaming fish and chips, and serving it out. "But let's go for dinner tonight, shall we?" He sat down by Harry and picked up his fork. "Hermione told me about a nice place, just in London. I thought it might be fun to make an evening out, just us."

Harry considered, with a mouthful of fish and crispy breading, nodding. "Sounds nice," he mumbled thickly. He swallowed, and repeated, "Sorry. That sounds nice." He raised a suggestive eyebrow. "You could wear that gray jacket I like."

.&.

Draco was dozing in the chaise lounge in the tiny garden, a book on his chest, and his sunglasses askew on his face. When the sun had finally come out neither he nor Harry could think of anything they wanted to do, so they had ventured into the backyard with a book each, and a bottle, or two, of wine, and had spent the afternoon eating strawberries from the flowerbed, talking idly, and becoming pleasantly ripped. As Draco dozed, Harry picked tiny purple flowers from the flowerbed and stuck them into Draco's pale hair, snickering softly as he admired the effect. He twisted a loose strand idly between his fingers as he lay in the adjoining lounge.

"I can feel you sticking things in my hair, Potter," Draco drawled, feeling for his wineglass and draining it. "I'm just too lazy to care."

Harry grinned, and stood up, stretching. He picked up the empty wine bottle, and then saw the other empty bottle. "How about another, Malfoy?" Draco just nodded, and twirled his empty glass, then flipped it upside down, dangling it by the stem. Harry tripped over Draco's shoe as he reached under his chair for the second bottle, stumbled, then continued, giggling into the house and returned with a fresh bottle of wine. "It's that merlot you like," he said, trying to pour into Draco's glass. "Hold your glass right way up, you prat." He managed to fill it and his own, then plopped down on his lounge and shut his eyes. "Lovely, this..." He felt Draco's fingers fumbling for his, and twined them into his own, rubbing Draco's ring with his thumb.

Harry's stomach rumbled sharply, and he stirred, stretching in the chair and looking at his watch. "I'm going for a shower, love, and get ready, it's half past six and our reservation is at eight. Want to come, or sleep a bit more?" Draco's mumbles and general lack of movement indicated 'more sleep' in Harry's opinion, and he stood, taking his glass, to head into the house and up the stairs. He showered leisurely, using Draco's strawberry shampoo and then proceeded to choose an outfit, knowing that Draco would probably find something else for him to change into, anyway. He looked critically into the mirror. He had shaved, and tied back his hair neatly, but the bruises were still faintly visible on his cheek and temple. He considered a glamour, and then decided, just the eyeliner will do, Draco loves it. The mirror, for once, offered no opinion as he outlined his green eyes. He went into the bedroom, pulled out Draco's gray jacket, fresh from the cleaners, and hung it on the wardrobe door. He looks dead sexy in this, he thought, touching the lapel through the plastic wrapping.

"It's your turn," he said downstairs, nudging Draco with his foot. "I'll pick up out here."

Draco rose and shook the flowers from his hair, picked up his glass, and poured the rest of the wine into it. He handed Harry the bottle and raised his glass as he passed, copping a quick feel. "Hot eyes...and arse. See you in a bit," he smirked, and headed into the house. Harry shoved the lounge chairs under the awning, in case of rain and then picked up the empty bottle. He went into the kitchen and began to put away the abandoned lunch things. He hummed to himself, listening to Draco singing in the shower upstairs, then heard the water shut off. He started the dishwasher and wiped the counter and table. Draco is notorious for taking ages to groom and dress, he thought. May as well sit a while. He headed into the living room, sitting carefully so as not to wrinkle his shirt and be assured of having to change.

Harry woke abruptly to the sound of his mobile phone chirping. He pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open, recognizing Hermione's number. "Hello, Hermione."

"Harry, I've just picked up some lovely fish, wondered if you and Draco might join me for dinner?"

"Oh, thanks Hermione, but we've had fish for lunch, and we're going to try that restaurant you suggested tonight, that place in London...it sounded really nice." He glanced at his watch and started at the time. Nearly a half hour since Draco had gone upstairs. We'll be late if he doesn't get moving...

"Oh, yes, you'll love it, you two," she enthused. "I'll just put this in the freezer and we'll have fish another time. Enjoy your evening!" and she rang off.

.&.

What on earth is taking Draco so long? Harry wondered, heading up the stairs. The bedroom was dark with only a fine line of light showing under the bathroom door. From the light in the hall he could see that Draco's jacket and trousers were not on the bed. He moved to the bathroom door and knocked. "Draco?" he called, and listened for a response. The sound of running water came from inside the bathroom, so Harry called louder, "Draco, are you okay?" He gripped the doorknob and found it locked, and his stomach clenched in something like panic. "Draco, open the fucking door!" He pulled his wand, whispered, "Alohomora", and the door clicked open to reveal Draco leaning on the edge of the vanity with his back to the door, water running noisily into the basin. He wore a black turtleneck and trousers; the gray blazer lay on the floor at his stocking feet.

"Draco?" he asked softly, and when Draco didn't respond he moved around to the side, his heart sinking. Draco was holding a square mirror and a small rolled paper tube, a fine line of powder on the glass, and a dab of white under his nose. He inhaled sharply and the powder was gone. He pressed his fingers to his nose, and inhaled again, his eyes closed, a strange expression marring his pale face.

Harry touched Draco's shoulder and he jumped, looking at Harry as if he hadn't heard him come in, as Harry reached past him to shut off the tap. His gray eyes widened, looking at Harry's stricken face, backing up a step. He dropped the mirror and it shattered on the tile floor into a galaxy of starry pieces. "Harry..." he whispered. He rubbed his nose again, and sniffed, hands shaking. "Harry, I ...what are you doing up here?" he slurred, and staggered slightly. He wiped at his nose again, and seemed to be surprised at the bright red smear on the back of his hand.

"I live here, you git," said Harry, miserably. "Draco, what the hell are you doing?" Harry shook his head, stepping slowly through the broken glass, hearing the faint crunching sound his shoes made. "Draco, why?"

"I was just getting dressed. I was putting on the jacket..." He gestured at the blazer on the floor. "I found some...well in the pocket...and then I had..." He straightened and an exasperated expression appeared on his face. "Oh, hell...don't get your knickers in a twist, Harry. It's just a bit of posh. Nothing I can't handle."

He reached out to Harry and pulled him forward, nuzzling his jaw and then kissing him sloppily. Harry gave him a shove in the chest, staggering slightly himself. "Don't you dare kiss me when you're high, you disgust me. I can't believe you would even think of touching me like...like this." He gestured at Draco and gave him a contemptuous look. "You promised no more!"

Draco fell back against the wall and looked at Harry with a slightly surprised expression on his face, wavering on his feet, his elegant form sliding to the floor. Draco's nose was bleeding in earnest now, and Harry picked up a towel and tossed it to him. Draco picked it up, and then his hand limply dropped to the floor, unable to lift it. He whispered, "I'm...sorry, Harry," as he leaned sideways against the glass shower wall. "This doesn't feel right," he slurred.

"Oh, brilliant...it's because you're fucking high, that's why," Harry snapped, coldly. He felt himself sway, unsteady from the wine, and turning his back on Draco he placed his hands on the vanity to support himself. He could see Draco in the mirror, as he rested his forehead on the cool glass, taking in the dusting of powder on the counter and Draco's Gringott's card lying on the tile. Draco gave him a pleading look, and then his gray eyes drifted closed. "Oh, Draco, open your eyes, you fucking drama queen," he said, turning his head.

He sighed, and as he reached to turn on the tap to rinse his hands, he saw a crushed white tablet in the basin. His eyes swept over the vanity and settled on an old prescription bottle; he picked it up and read the faded label with horror...Potter, Harry J....Lortab 10/500...take one tablet every four hours as needed for moderate to severe pain. Harry's stomach lurched suddenly. I can't believe this is happening, he thought, and moved to Draco's side, stepping over the broken glass. "Open your eyes, Draco! Don't you dare not look at me, you coward." Damn the wine. "Draco, did you take any of these?" he asked, waving the bottle in Draco's face. Damn my fucking pain meds. He didn't really want to know, and Draco didn't answer.

He knelt and turning Draco's face to him, lightly slapped his cheeks. "Draco!" As he picked up the towel and wiped the blood from Draco's nose, he felt the grinding of teeth, his jaw muscles were clenched and a fine line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth... Oh, fuck... He dug in his pocket for his phone and frantically dialed Hermione's number as he sat on the tile floor and lifted Draco's head into his lap, Please have your phone on...he silently begged, tears springing into his eyes. He stroked Draco's hair back from his face, and wiped at the blood. "Baby, please open your eyes."

"Yes?" came Hermione's voice on the line.

"Hermione, I need you," Harry said, unsteadily. "Can you come?"

"Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes...oh hell, please... please can you come...Draco...he's..." Please, please, open your eyes... "I need you..."

"Harry! Are you at home?" He nodded, then realized she could not see him, and managed to choke out a yes. "Don't move. I'm coming to you right now."

The phone cut off and he heard footsteps running up the stairs and Hermione's voice calling his name. Hermione must have apparated before she even hung up, he thought. Draco's hands were moving now, his eyes opened and looked around wildly, then closed again. He struggled against Harry, his muscles moving spastically. "Be still, love. I've got you," he whispered into Draco's ear. Harry could feel Draco's heart hammering in his chest as he thrashed in his arms.

Hermione burst into the bathroom with a cry of alarm, and rushed to Draco's side, her sneakers sliding in the broken glass. She helped Harry turn him to his side, wiping foam from his mouth with the towel. "I think he's having a seizure. Look at his eyes." She lifted his eyelid to check and saw mostly white, a flicker of gray. "Oh, no..." She spotted the wineglass on the vanity. "He was drinking tonight?" Harry nodded, miserably, stroking Draco's face. "And he used cocaine?"

"And these," Harry said, handing her the empty prescription bottle.

Her eyes widened. "I'm calling Severus, I can't Apparate both of you, and you're too drunk to go yourself. Don't move him, Harry." She picked up Harry's phone and found Severus' number, pressing send and stepping out into the bedroom. Harry heard her speaking urgently, and with a POP, Severus apparated directly into the bathroom.

He took one look at Draco, and scooped him up from the floor. "Meet me at St. Mungo's," he said, tersely, and disapparated with Draco in his arms. Harry slid the rest of the way to the floor, paralyzed, unable to move or think.

Hermione knelt down beside Harry, now lying on the floor clutching the towel, and took his hand. "Are you hurt?" she asked gently, as she wiped his face with a damp flannel. He didn't respond, and she asked, more urgently, "Harry, can you hear me?" He still didn't move, continued to blankly look at the floor, covered with blood and splinters of the broken mirror. She took his face in her hands and turned it so she could look in his eyes, now ringed with smeared kohl. Harry stared through her. Hermione took a deep breath, and then slapped him across the cheek, hard. His eyes wavered, then focused on her face, mildly surprised. "Harry, we have to go to hospital. You have to stand up and come with me." She tugged his hand and he allowed himself to be drawn to his feet. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he felt the familiar squeezing sensation of Side-Along-Apparition, then opened his eyes to see the staff room at St. Mungo's and Parvati waiting for them.

.&.