In the Hands of Outlaws

Chapter Eleven

Once Draco started to yawn, Hermione led him over to a tent. "This is Harry's tent. You'll be staying here until we decide what to do with you."

Draco frowned but accepted the terms, crawling onto the cot and curling up. "When will he be back?"

"A couple hours, probably."

Draco was considering staying up until he heard that answer and wrinkled his nose. "Alright. Um... Goodnight."

"Night. Don't let the leeches latch."

"That what?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "It's a way of saying goodnight."

Draco frowned. "It's quite distasteful, don't you think?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, goodnight either way."

"Yeah... Goodnight."

Draco tossed and turned. The cot was the opposite of comfortable. The pillow felt like a shirt wrapped around a bunch of hay rather than downing, the fabric stretched across the wooden frame was stiff and uncomfortable and the blanket was rough, patchy and smelled like dirt, sweat and something metallic. As more time passed, it got colder as well, leaving him to feel like his fingers and toes were gonna fall off. 

He finally stood, shuffling out of bed with Harry's blanket wrapped tightly around him and sought out the fire, which was still burning ever so slightly, laying down across one of the benches, staring into the flames until he finally drifted off. 

When he woke up, he thought he was falling off the bench and frantically sprawled his limbs out to catch him, but instead ended up hearing a grunt from somebody as he smacked them across the face. When he opened his eyes, he realized it was Harry, carrying him bridal style. 

He squinted, frowning. "Wha are ya doin?"

"What are you doing? It's two in the mornin, why are you sleeping on the ground?"

"It was cold," Draco huffed, suddenly re-acknowledging the chill and shivering. "And it wasn't the ground. It was a bench."

Harry rolled his eyes, dropping Draco onto the cot. 

"Nooo, it's so uncomfortable," Draco whined, pouting as he sat up, scowling in distaste at the cot and flat pillow.

"Well you have my blanket, so deal with it or go sleep outside without one," Harry grumbled, collapsing down next to him and landing heavily on his side, letting out a heavy breath as he snatched the blanket from Draco, throwing it over himself. 

"Hey!" Draco tugged the blanket back towards himself, which was hard on it's own considering his fingers felt like they were frozen solid.

"I've had a really long fucking night," Harry spoke, his voice low and rumbly- sounding angry. "Come here for body heat or get the fuck out."

Draco tentatively scooted closer, laying down and feeling the warmth wash over him as Harry tossed the blanket over the both of them, Harry's skin radiating enough heat for him to start to actually feel comfortable, despite half his body sticking out from the blanket. Giving up on his pride, he scooted closer to Harry, trying to get every bit of his body under the covers without making contact with Harry's physical body. 

"Stop. Moving." Harry growled, wrapping his arm around Draco's waist and yanking him closer, holding him stationary. "Keep me awake any longer and I will kill you. Don't think I wont."

Draco didn't even have the nerve to breathe for a while, yet alone move so that his arm wasn't pinned awkwardly underneath him. He didn't move until Harry's breath had been even for several minutes, tentatively pushing himself closer to Harry so that his arm was in a more comfortable position, and to get some warmth on his shoulders by pressing them into Harry's chest, and his legs pressed closer to the pair next to him.