Chapter 23

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Draco was in the library, asleep on an opened book. For a moment, Harry was surprised, and then he remembered that Draco hadn't slept at all the night before. Still, he was a little hurt that while he was spilling his heart to Sirius, Draco had come here to the library to study. Harry's bag, which he'd left in the field, was sitting on the floor by Draco's chair.

He slipped into the chair across from Draco and studied him. He looked younger when he slept, younger and more vulnerable. His lip was still cut, crusted with blood, and Harry wondered why he hadn't charmed it better. Then he touched the scars on his arm and wondered if maybe Draco hadn't wanted to forget the same way Harry didn't, when he let his arm bleed.

And then he noticed the book Draco was sleeping on. Wizarding Rites of Passage. There, partially covered by Draco's hand, was a drawing of a flat-bottomed boat, flames licking up the sides of it.

"Oh," Harry whispered. Not studying, then.

He brushed the hair off Draco's forehead and sighed. "Draco? Draco, wake up, we have to talk."

Moaning a bit, Draco flinched away from his hand, stubbornly refusing to wake up. Guilt made Harry's lower lip start trembling a bit. After all, this was his fault. Draco being so exhausted, Draco's lip being cut, the bruises forming around the swollen lip...

"Right... Alright. It's alright. But you're not sleeping here." He cast a lightening charm and carefully lifted Draco out of the chair, one arm bracing the other boy's back, the other under his knees.

Draco's head fell against Harry's shoulder, and his eyes fluttered open and looking at Harry sleepily. "What... what are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

"Shh. Go back to sleep."

Smiling a bit, Draco made an agreeable noise and snuggled his face into the side of Harry's neck, closing his eyes again.

No one saw them as Harry carried Draco back to Slytherin House. He remembered the password from that morning and moments later, was carefully setting Draco down in his bed, picking the sheet up off the floor and smoothing it over him. He studied Draco for a long moment and then kissed his cheek and left quietly.

***

Draco woke suddenly, eyes flying open and breath catching in his throat. For a long moment, he didn't remember where he was or what had happened or anything. The familiar shapes of his room calmed him, however, and he sat up, touching his aching mouth and wincing.

It was near dusk now, he could tell by the way the shadows fell across the floor. Vague memories of Harry carrying him to bed were unfolding in his mind and he frowned. "Harry?" he whispered, but Harry wasn't there. "Oh, I swear, if you've run off again..."

He got out of bed and left the room, not caring that his hair was standing up wildly or that he still had lines on his face from his pillow. The common room was full of people who gawked when he walked through, but no one spoke. He didn't care, really, he had nothing to say to them.

He found Harry at the lake, sitting at the end of the pier and smoking one of the Marlboro Lights from the night they'd gone to Hogsmeade.

For a long moment, Draco didn't say anything, just watched Harry suck on the cigarette and wince at the taste, before letting the smoke out and grimacing.

"Hey," he called quietly, and Harry jumped a bit, glancing over his shoulder.

"I didn't see you there," he said nervously.

"I know." Draco came and sat beside him on the pier, and Harry shifted over a bit so there was room.

It was quiet for a while, and then Harry said in a muffled voice, "I shouldn't have-"

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