Ambivalent Lucidity

The general air about the older Gryffindors was one of resentment and confusion as they found that Draco Malfoy was not only eating with them, but following them to their dormitory. While Hermione stuck close to Harry, Seamus pulled Ron to the rear and gestured to the clingy Draco and the obviously agitated brunette he was attached to. "You're telling me," he began to rant, "that that...that slime is staying in our dormitory?! If he says one goddamned word to me-ONE-then it's all over for him. I'll cut his throat in his sleep." He drew his finger horizontally across his throat and shook his head.

Harry happened to hear the last few phrases out of Seamus's mouth, and he whipped around suddenly, eyes ablaze with emerald fury. "Listen, Seamus. He's sick. I'm not any happier about this situation than you are, damn it, but I've got to take care of him and you have to get used to it!" The crowd of Gryffindors had stopped to witness this encounter, and Hermione rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, holding him back. "I'm fucking tired, and I'm not going to deal with your shit all night. If you fuck with Draco, I'm going to get in trouble for it, so sod off!" This reaction shut Seamus up quickly, and the Irishman dropped his head and hurried past, ignoring the whispers that spread like wildfire before him. "Come on, Malfoy," Harry snapped irritably, taking the blonde's arm and pushing up the staircase towards Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione followed closely, smiling at her best friend with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. "It's just been a couple of hours, Harry, and I think you're becoming attached to him..." she suggested, laughing when he shot her a nasty look. "No, really, it's admirable that you're standing up for him even though that's not really what you're supposed to be doing. That's very...adult of you."

He wrinkled his nose at her and shook his head. "Honestly, I'd rather be a child than have to deal with this, Hermione. What if he can't go to the loo by himself? Or what if he can't...I don't know, brush his own teeth or something? This is more than just me trying to fix him, it's me playing mother! I can't deal with another person's personal hygiene...That's gross," he admitted, and he diverted his gaze to Draco, whose normally perfected appearance was rather ruffled and unkempt. The real Draco would have had an aneurysm, and the messy hair and dark circles under his eyes were a testament to just exactly how out of his mind he must have been. Grey eyes turned to meet his own, and for just a moment, Harry was certain he saw a glimmer of lucidity in them before they closed and Draco leaned his head against Harry's shoulder.

"He's tired," Hermione observed, and she felt her chest tighten inexplicably as Harry, without missing a beat, plucked the lightweight Slytherin off his feet and hoisted him into his arms. Harry was really falling into the caretaker role very easily, and though it was obvious that he resented this new casting, she knew he would assume responsibility as he always did. "I should think he'll be able to go to the loo himself, Harry, but you might have to help him with his hair and-er-maybe showering or something. I suppose you'll find out when the time comes, but I wouldn't concern yourself so much with that and focus instead on keeping him functioning."

Harry huffed to himself and climbed through the portrait hole, turning to look at Hermione before smiling weakly and nodding. "I'll try...I'd better get him to bed. See you tomorrow." He sounded exhausted himself, and when he reached the dormitory and found the extra bed for Malfoy near his own, he was glad to set the other down on the warm bed. "Can you undress yourself?" he asked quietly, and he frowned as Draco looked away. "Wonderful. Hold on..."

He retreated to Draco's trunk and opened it, finding immaculately stacked clothes and other personal belongings. Withdrawing a pair of soft grey pyjamas, he closed the trunk again before moving to sit on the bed with Draco, proceeding to draw the drapes on the four-poster so they might have a moment of privacy. "Are these all right?" He received no negative answer, so he moved to take off Draco's sneakers and robes for him. Draco seemed very self-conscious of this even in this mental state, and Harry kept his eyes securely fastened on the other's face as he stripped him down to pants before helping him into the warm pyjamas. "There," Harry sighed before he opened the drapes and folded Draco's robes before moving to get ready for bed himself.

Ron came up a moment later, finding Harry half-dressed in sleep clothes, and he managed a feeble smile. "Sorry, mate," he said quietly, and he gestured to the already-slumbering Slytherin. "This is the last thing we need this year, eh?" He sat down on his bed and flopped back onto the pillow, still completely clothed. "Just when we thought he was annoying enough, he pulls this...D'you think maybe it's an elaborate prank? Death Eaters making a laugh for themselves?"

Harry sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. "No matter what it is, it's fucking annoying and I don't feel like analysing it any further tonight, thanks..." His tone really was uncalled for, but this entire situation was starting off on the wrong foot, in his opinion. He should have been warned, he should have been consulted at least a little before the Ministry decided to change his entire life for him. Heaving a heavy sigh, he threw himself carelessly onto the bed and buried himself in blankets to fall asleep just as his head contacted the pillow.

A few days of classes passed, and Harry was nearing his wits' end with Malfoy's helplessness. He was forced to help his charge dress, shower, even walk sometimes (if Draco was not having a bad day, when Harry would have to stay out of class and figure out complex spells by himself), and so as he fell asleep late Friday evening in his bed, he was looking forward to a full night's sleep and a restful weekend. This, the purest of all sleep, was abruptly and rudely interrupted, however, as he woke up to a desperate screeching and the sound of ripping cloth, and he threw his drapery aside to find his dormmates awake and glaring in his direction. "Do something!" Dean yelled, gesturing to Draco's bed.

Harry grumbled and hauled himself out of bed, hurrying to his charge's bedside and throwing open the curtains to find Draco thrashing madly, muttering to himself in an unrecognizable tongue. "Hey, HEY!" Harry yelled, sitting down on the mattress and restraining the other's arms as they snatched at the air in a blind attempt to seize Harry. "Calm down, Draco! You're all right!" These words seemed to calm the blonde for a moment, though in those stormy eyes there was a feral, wild shadow, and he violently, suddenly reached for Harry's face with his fingernails poised to rip into his flesh.

"Get away from me," he hissed in a nasty, horrible voice that made Harry's heart stand still. "Don't touch me, don't touch me! Let me GO!" By the end of this, he was screaming, eyes bloodshot and as large as tangerines. His nails caught Harry's forearms as he was hauled into the Gryffindor's chest, his face buried against that neck, and there was a sudden shudder that rocked both boys. Fingernails slowly eased back from the tortured flesh, and Harry soon felt burning tears on his collarbone, dripping down into his pyjamas, and he slowly trailed his open palms up Draco's shuddering back.

When the blonde's tears dried, Harry took him back to his bed, tucking him in before climbing into the blankets beside him and staring at the ceiling as he was cuddled up to. An arm slowly wound its way around Malfoy's waist, and he found himself holding tightly onto the other as the other boys fell asleep one by one. He drew the drapes closed and found that a small smile tipped the right side of his lips as the breath against his neck slowed and evened out, and he knew that Draco would never sleep alone again. As sickening as the thought was, he found that, while angry about it, it was not the most unreasonable idea-the other boys would thank him for keeping his burden quiet and close just in case he had an outburst like that. There was a warm hand on his stomach, and it seemed that the heat from that palm alone lulled him back into slumber.

Harry woke with the feeling that he had slept in far too late, and he gave a little start only to realise that Draco had not moved in the night or that morning, and was sleeping softly against his shoulder. The brunette yawned quietly before resting his hand on the other's hair, fingers threading through it as he contemplated getting up, and just as he decided that the morning was too nice to be awake for, the drapes were ripped back. "Er...You getting up, Harry?" Ron asked awkwardly, having noticed that his best friend's hands had jerked away from Malfoy when the sun hit them.

"I wasn't really planning on it," Harry claimed irritably. He was not sure why it annoyed him that Ron had come tearing into his bed when it was obvious that he was not awake, but he was furious about it. "So, did you want something, or can I go back to sleep?" He caught himself glaring, and he felt like a bit of an arse about it, but he did not apologise.

Ron looked hurt, and his ears flushed pink before he just shook his head and stormed out of the dorm room. Harry drew the hangings shut and was just settling back into the comforting warmth of another body beside him when Draco stirred and eyelashes flicking open brushed Harry's cheek. Harry tried to stay quiet to lull his charge back to sleep, but Malfoy gave a jolt a moment later and sat up, nearly falling out of his side of the bed as he stared at Harry wide-eyed. "Potter?! Why the hell are YOU-um...So...You must be the one they shoved me onto. Happy about it, are you?" He began to brush himself off as though sleeping next to Harry was like sleeping in the dirt.

A great surge of anger welled up in Harry's chest, and he found himself grabbing Draco by the arm. "You honestly think I WANT to be taking care of you?" he lashed out, eyes dangerously narrow as he squeezed that arm. Draco's eyes widened. "You can't sleep by yourself, any time someone looks at you funny you fall into crying fits, and you're...you're fucking pathetic!" He was raving for no good reason-Draco deserved compassion-but in that moment he wanted Draco to know how hard this was for him to manage. "Of course, it's better than you being a prat all the time...Really, you're much better like this!"

When tears welled up in Draco's eyes, Harry thought for a moment that the quietest personality had returned, but Draco shook his head and growled, "Do you have any idea what's happened to me? No, NO, you have NO BLOODY CLUE!" He wrenched his arm away and nearly fell out of bed again, his hands trembling so hard that Harry could feel it in the mattress. "I'm fucking SORRY, okay?!" He moved to lie down on the bed, facing away from Harry and shaking.

The Gryffindor paused for a few moments, feeling horrible, before he reached out and touched Draco on the shoulder. When he received no response, he shook his arm slightly. "Malfoy?" The word caused the blonde to turn his head to look sleepily at Harry, but it was still the real Draco, and though Harry did not care for him much, he lay down beside him-without touching-and closed his eyes. "Sorry..."

He received no response.

When Harry woke up again-when had he dozed off?-he found that it was no longer the actual Draco lying beside him, but the clingy, weepy persona, who was lying on his side with arms wrapped around Harry's elbow. Blinking heavily, Harry pulled his arm away and watched as the blonde squirmed around on top of the blankets before grey eyes opened, and he met a green gaze. "Are you hungry?" Harry asked groggily, rather disappointed that Draco had not returned for good so he could have some semblance of a life back. Draco seemed to not comprehend what he was saying, so Harry sighed and picked out clothes for him.

Dressing Draco was a brief affair, and afterward, the pair headed down for lunch. Harry tried to avoid letting Draco cling to him for support, and to his surprise, the other was content to walk closely beside him, though he never strayed more than a foot or so. The Great Hall was relatively empty due to the beautiful weather outside, but this certainly did not stop the whispers the moment the two rivals stepped in and sat down at the Gryffindor table. Seamus and Neville were seated across from the two, and Seamus shot his companion a strained look before he cleared his throat a little. "You slept in late, Harry," he said quietly, his gaze carefully avoiding Draco at any cost. "You feeling okay?"

Harry sighed and gave a shrug. "I s'pose I feel as well as can be expected, Seamus. I don't like the situation any more than-"

"We know," Neville cut in, and he smiled quietly at Harry. "It's really nice of you, I think. Even though he's a pain in the arse for all of us, you're taking the most damage. You should get a plaque or something-I would have gone nuts by now. I mean...You could have said no, but you didn't. That's decent." These words made Harry feel slightly better, even as Draco's empty persona took him by the hand as he ate in silence. "You're a....a god amongst men!"

These words made all three of them laugh aloud, and Harry felt more accepted by his housemates for it. If no one else, at least Neville understood, even if it was only because Harry knew Neville would give anything for his parents to be released into someone's care if there was any chance they could get better. He gave Draco's fingers a squeeze before he took his hand away so he could use his fork, but he did not mind so much when a pale hand rested on his knee. As long as it was not the real Draco, it was all right according to Harry.

After lunch, Harry escorted Draco outside for a walk of the grounds. Figuring that a walk might do Draco's health some good and that it was a beautiful autumn day anyway, Harry led his charge down to the lake to walk alongside the shore. The gentle lapping of ripples against the muddy beach seemed to soothe Harry's soul, and when Draco leaned in against his side, he freely wrapped an arm around the blonde's shoulders. This empty personality made a good friend, he thought, in that he never argued, never fought with him, never disagreed, but Harry found himself wishing that he could chat with this mysterious person. He wondered what he thought about, if anything, what he wanted, and what he dreamed about when his eyes closed. Perhaps he was reading too much into an empty shell, but perhaps not-when this person cried, it was real, as though Harry himself was crying.

Harry found a nice spot in the taller grass far from the castle to sit in with his companion, and they sat for a long time there, the wind caressing brunette and blonde locks alike, sweeping them back like a lover trying to see her sweetheart's eyes. No voices carried this far into the grounds, and Harry was not self-conscious when his charge lay down in the grass with his head on Harry's mid-thighs, and the Gryffindor's hand automatically took the wind's place in fingering the hair from Draco's brow. Slowly, the blonde rolled onto his back and looked up to the sky, slate-grey gaze occasionally catching a green one before blinking very rapidly. "Potter?"

Harry's hands jerked out of Draco's hair, and he felt his cheeks begin to burn as neither of them made another move. Their eyes were locked, and though this stare-down was not menacing, both could feel an odd sort of tension present between them until Draco's hand reached back to take his companion's. He broke their shared gaze to look out over the lake as he placed Harry's hand back on the top of his hair, and he closed his eyes as uneven fingernails tentatively tickled his scalp. The only break to their silence was the whistle of the breeze until, "Do people laugh at me?"

"What?" Harry asked, looking down to watch his arch-nemesis pluck a blade of grass and place it strategically between the sides of his thumbs. "Laugh at you? I honestly don't know what there would be to laugh about, but I think...I think everyone-in my house at least-is pretty pissed about the whole thing. They don't get it." He shrugged a little, realising that it did not make him feel strange to run his fingers through the actual Draco's hair. It felt just like the other personas' hair. "I'm not even sure I get it, honestly, but-"

He was cut off abruptly as Draco pressed his lips against his thumbs and blew, the grass between them emitting a high-pitched screech that made him wince. He blew three long, earsplitting notes before dropping the blade and beginning to laugh, like it was the greatest joke ever told, and he pressed his palm to his forehead in mirth. Harry stared at him until that laughter evolved into tears, and he did not know what to say as the person he once hated as much as Voldemort rolled into him and pressed his pale face against his stomach to sob out his frustrations. Harry did not try to pretend to understand, but he lay his hands on Draco's shoulder and back in the only indication of comfort that he could muster the courage to give. Thin arms wrapped around his middle, and they shifted together so Harry was lying back, propped up on his elbows with Draco's face hidden in his stomach.

"Oh look, there he is," Hermione said with a smile, nudging Ron with her hip as they themselves took a long walk of the grounds. "I thought he might be down here...Where's Draco, I wonder?"

Ron shrugged a little and shook his head. "Honestly, I hope he isn't down here. We haven't spent any time with Harry alone, really, and Quidditch tryouts start next week. We have to practise flying-I hardly got to all summer!" he growled, gesturing to the beautiful blue sky with an indignant hand. "Look at this weather. Look at it! There couldn't be a more perfect day for a ride!"

Hermione frowned and stopped walking, staying out of earshot of Harry to lecture Ron. "Look, Ron, Harry's got a lot on his plate right now without you whinging about not getting a fly in this week. Maybe I'll talk to him later, get him to let me take Malfoy for a while, but if not, please don't complain. We're his friends-we've got to be sensitive to the situation." She tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced over to Harry just in time to see Draco sit up from the tall grass and lean heavily against her best friend's shoulder, and she sighed lightly as his arm came to rest around thin, pale shoulders. "Maybe...Maybe we should leave them alone, Ron."

Ron blinked at her sudden change of heart over seeing Harry, but when he turned to see the pair practically cuddling in the field, he found himself suddenly nauseous. "Er...Yeah, let's go back to the castle. I think I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled, his ears tinted pink, and he allowed Hermione to turn him away towards the castle. She cast one look over her shoulder, and Ron knew that she felt like crying seeing Harry like that. "We can have some sweets or something in my dorm, how's that?"

"Fine..." He managed to resist turning around to have another look as they wound their way back towards the castle, knowing that if he saw them again, he would not be able to control himself.

Slowly, Draco fell almost perfectly still, and Harry's hand lightly patted his shoulder. "You all right now?" he asked in a whisper, reluctant to end the perfect silence of the afternoon. He felt his companion nod, and he released a deep sigh of relief. "Good. Er...did you want to head back up to the castle, or-?"

"No thanks," Draco replied, his voice unstable from his previous state of distress, and he allowed himself to tuck his face in against Potter's collarbone. "You'll have to forgive me, but I really don't feel up to moving right now. I'm weak." He did not spare a moment to think about how strange it was, him cuddling up to the Gryffindor he had always hated so much-he knew that Potter was his only hope of recovery short of drastic medical measures that would not only be very painful, but very expensive-and instead let his eyes fall shut. "Sorry if you're uncomfortable."

"N-no, I'm not," Harry stuttered immediately, and he felt his cheeks light aflame before he gazed down to stare at the blonde in his arms. They looked like a couple, sitting there in that field and wrapped up together, but Harry knew that Malfoy needed comfort that only he, his caregiver and only friend in the world, could provide. Anyone would understand that. His hand rose to bury in Draco's hair, and he squeezed him there in the field, all enmities forgotten if only for that moment, and Draco fell limp against him shortly before his breaths evened out, and he slept.