The Enemy's Ball

23. DON'T! Say Anymore

The following Monday. That's when Harry was supposed to go visit Lupin at St. Mungos. That was today. Even as Harry became more excited and giddy, despite his obvious lack of sleep, Draco became more worried as the days progressed.

Draco left from Care of Magical Creatures and headed to the Great Hall. A cool gust blew past him and he shivered, pulling his robes tighter around himself. October was on its way, but the weather didn't seem to care that it was only the end of September, and the air was freezing. He walked into the castle and breathed a sigh of relief to get away from the cold air, but kept his cloak wrapped around himself. He stopped in front of the Great Hall, deciding whether or not to go in.

The smell of warm soup wafted towards him through the doors, but he passed the doors and went straight to the eighth year dorms. "Lemon Drops." He said and the portrait swung open. The chipper fruit bounced around in their frame, some fell out of the bowl. Draco exhaled a small laugh and he continued up to his dorm. He set his bag down and stared at his bed, and then at Harry's. He shivered again, really, who was in charge of the weather because there was absolutely no reason for it to be this cold in only September.

Harry's bed was a mess of rumpled blankets and pillows, as usual, but there was one blanket folded on it. That blanket was always folded. Draco smiled at his quilt, folded perfectly into a large square and he made his way over to it. He sat down on the bed and wrapped it around himself, inhaling its aroma. It smelled amazing. The house elves must have just washed it, not that it mattered that laundry day was every Tuesday, so it'd been almost a week.

And the quilt was warm. Which didn't really make sense because Draco's bed was always cold. Draco frowned, but he stayed still, allowing the warmth of the blanket to seep through his clothes. He sat there for a while, until he stopped shivering, and even then he stayed, because it was his blanket after all, he should have a right to it every now and then. Potter got it at nights, he got it during the day, that could work.

The door swung open and in walked a cheerful Harry Potter. He slung his bag across the room, grinning when it landed on the desk. Draco raised an eyebrow at this. As if Harry could tell that someone was skeptical of him, he faced his bed and tilted his head in confusion. He pointed at Draco.

"Malfoy..? What are you doing in my bed..?"

Draco pulled the quilt tight around himself and said, "Cold. You stole my blanket."

Harry smiled again, "I believe you let me borrow it," he said.

Draco stood up and the quilt fell onto the bed. He flicked his wrist in a dismissing motion, "Doesn't matter. It was on your bed, which is oddly warm, and I was cold."

Harry still grinned, but he didn't say anything else. He pulled a shrunken thermos from his pocket and enlarged it. "You weren't at dinner, and I was already going to take some to Remus, so I thought I might bring you some food too. Maybe it'll help you warm up," and he tossed the thermos to Draco, who caught it with lightning-fast seeker reflexes.

Draco opened it and steam rose in lazy coils to the ceiling. He smiled only a bit, and he looked at Harry. The Gryffindor was staring at him hopefully, and his green eyes were sparkling just right in the setting sunlight and Draco's eyes widened along with his smile. Oh no. He sat back on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. Oh no, I'm in love with Harry Potter.

Harry stepped forward in shock, but didn't come any closer, Draco was thankful for that. "Are you okay? Did it burn you?"

Draco laughed silently and shook his head. Then he looked up at Harry, meeting those so, so green eyes. Draco smiled at the worried expression on Harry's face, and he hoped his smile wasn't too dreamy. "It's- fine- good- it's great. Thank you." Draco needed to think, this couldn't be, it was one thing to realize he had a long-standing crush, but that was all, it wasn't this.