Malnoia

- dedicated to

I always had trouble waking up.

Climbing out of sleep to me was like walking though a thick fog, senses dulled and sluggish; my mind slowed and foreshadowed. I barely registered that it was light around me, my mouth dry with bitter heat that stung him because of the unbearably warm naked body beside me, cradling into my flesh. Something in my mind tried to niggle at me as sleep stretched lazily in me, urging me back into its safe embrace of quiet breath. He burrowed deeper, unconsciously, unaware of the filtering sounds of rustling bed sheets and soft chuckles and sloppy footsteps.

"L've you," murmured the sleeping figure next to me, as we began blocking out all the sounds of morning around us, before a contented half-sleep settled over us again, surrounded by the dark glow of velvet curtains.

Next minute, there was a swish; soft laughter cut off by a sharp gasp, and the shocking light of day. I awoke with a start, staring up into the incredulous faces of his dorm-mates.

He tightened his grip around me, digging his face almost painfully into my shoulder, wrapping his wiry arms around me as if he could provide the protection that I would need.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

For the next ten minutes, there was complete confusion. There were stuttered explanations, disbelieving looks, hot-tempered statements, stifled laughter; all mixing together and between all of this, I dressed myself hurriedly back into my pyjamas and the invisibility cloak and swept away, breathing hard from the narrow not-quite escape. He had remained face down, buried under the blankets and pillows, not responding to the light touch of my hand that swept along his back as I scrambled away from the noise and confusion.

And now I was alone, a shivering mess of running nose and swelling emotions; my bare feet echoing loudly in my empty head. I felt disjointed, like I was watching my own movements in third person, not thinking, feeling; just a heap of jelly legs and numbness. My legs carried me automatically, back to my own dorm, own partly used bed, own thick velvet curtains and roommates; brushing past them invisibly, leaving them to wonder if it was just a freak gust of wind that opened the door so smoothly, shaking their heads in wonderment.

They all trooped out to breakfast, minds slipping away from my apparent absence, it was not the first time I had not accompanied them to the first meal of the day, casually sauntering in on my own some half-an-hour later, dressed in his clothes.

I ended up in the far shower stall in the empty bathroom, trying to drown myself, the tears mixing with the hot streams of water that scorched my skin with its bare truths. He'll never want you now that they know. The steam clung to my lungs and choked me with its honest realities. They'll talk you out of ever seeing you ever again. I leaned my forehead against the white tiles that left its frank concessions onto my skin. He's had you, and now he's going to walk away. Now that they know.

I could hear his voice in my head now, "It's over."

An echo of a memory, "It's over."

A noise startled me, and I turned sharply, splattering water from my limp hair in every direction. He was there, peering at me through the steam and water, taking in every inch of my waterlogged body, misery painted over my face, far-away longing in my eyes.

"Sweetheart?" It rolled off his tongue awkwardly, hanging there for a fraction of a second, between the steam, morning breath, and my vivid imagination.

And suddenly, he was right there, clothes and all, seizing me to him, clutching my tears and broken hope and fears that he would leave; mending me with his embrace. And we stood there, amongst my feverish tears and mouth and touch; remained there in the steam and scorching water; enduring the memories of their scorn and disbelief by staying together.

His soaked clothes squelched under our feet as the heat of bodies met once more, against the splashed tiles as we prayed into each other that nothing would break our defences. Urged the heavens that nothing would ever make either of us regret our choice to be together, to give us each the strength to stand tall and strong against scrutiny and objection.

Hermione and Pansy were waiting for us outside the Great Hall, both with worry and honesty written out in silent tongue on their expressions. You were dressed in my clothes, your own hung out to dry on the bathroom rails with a note to the house elves. You were holding my hand, you...

"What on earth happened?"

"Where have you been?"

Both girls started talking at once, but we hushed them, listening to the excited buzz inside the Great Hall. The news of the day had obviously broken some time ago, and this would be a day branded in everyone's minds as 'The Most Scandalous Day in Hogwarts History'. It would probably be written up in the revised edition of Hogwarts: A History.

The day that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, the day that The Saviour of the Wizarding World and Bad-Boy Public Enemy Number One, were found in bed...together.

You looked at them, and asked the question on both of our minds. "How bad is it?"

Hermione answered first. "Ron had at least four melt-down so far by my count, Crabbe and Goyle are in a state of disbelief, the Slytherin's are all frantically denying that 'Draco would be sleeping with the enemy', for lack of a better term. Dean's completely shocked about the whole thing, Neville's been stuttering nonsense and Seamus...well, I'm not quite sure what to make of Seamus."

"Seamus knows," I added.

"He does?"

"Yep, he's been...covering for us."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

You looked at me, caressing my hand with yours. "Damage control, I think."

I nodded, and the four of us walked through the Great Hall doors to be met with complete silence. The whole school, teaching staff included, stared down at the four of us, a little knot of support. Me, with a look of total bewilderment, you in one of my shirts. They stared us down; Slytherins with knuckles cracking, Gryffindors with batted and simmering anger. I took a deep breath and suddenly found you kissing me. And somewhere between the shocked silence, Hermione's giggles and Pansy's explanations, you mapped love into my mouth with your tongue. I'll never leave you. I never want to be without you. I'll never stop loving you.

Our mouths parted, and you breathed huskily into my ear. "I love you, Draco."

It was like you meant it, turning from me, with Hermione trailing after you, back to face the Gryffindors and their reasons and taunting, back to be their hero and leaving me a love-sick, weak-kneed, thoroughly kissed Slytherin, enraptured by your heart of gold and tongue of silver.

- finished -