Black Truth [READ DESCRIPTION]

chapter fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Problems with Magical Currents

Draco woke to find himself in a rather strange position on his bed, strange because he wasn't sure why he was still on his bed to begin with, seeing how most of him was in fact draped over the right side of it. Yet for some reason he remained in this position instead of toppling to the floor as gravity dictated he should. It was while he was pondering this that he became aware of the fact that his arm was rather numb... his left arm had almost no feeling in it... was that healthy? Draco attempted to defy gravity a bit more by craning his neck over the top of the bed in order to see why his arm was in that condition. His eyes widened slightly as the reason trickled into his brain, but then the other person in the bed shifted, loosening their grip on his arm... and gravity did the rest.

Harry Potter woke to a dull thud and then a sullen "Ow". Frowning, he blinked twice and registered where he was. In Draco's bed... again. But there was no sign of Draco himself. He'd ended up not being able to hate Draco enough before bed every night this week, so this was not a rare occurrence. Harry blamed those confusing feelings he got whenever he thought about the blond in any abstract or fleeting form. They were really starting to bother him.

Another thing was bothering Harry... well two things were bothering Harry. One was the strange taste he had in his mouth and the other being the blanket of black silk that seemed to be covering everything.

"Oh damn," Draco muttered from the floor as he too registered the black silk feathers covering the floor. "Molting night again."

"Molting?" Harry leaned over the bed. "Why are you on the floor anyway?"

"I fell." Draco got up rather stiffly and brushed a few black feathers off him. "I didn't know I had that many feathers to begin with." He seemed mildly impressed.

Harry dropped out of Draco's bed on the other side and brushed off the black feathers covering him as well. But what was that taste in the back of his mouth? With one finger he traced the back of his tongue and managed to dislodge... a feather.

"Should I even ask how a feather got in my mouth?" Harry muttered.

Draco looked mildly disgusted. "That would be a no."

Harry didn't respond to Draco's answer, in fact he hadn't even looked at Draco after that first time this morning. Seeing Draco was still too confusing... or brought up confusing thoughts. And it was too early in the morning to deal with confusing issues.

Harry made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast to find that, for once, he had arrived before Ron and Hermione. He was halfway through his second piece of toast when the two arrived.

"Oh, Harry, you should have told us you were going to be here early." Hermione told him as they sat down.

"Mate, are you feeling okay? It's a Sunday; one sleeps in late on Sundays." Ron reminded him, oblivious to the look of exasperation Hermione sent his way.

Other students began to filter in to breakfast, but Harry noted that there was no sign of Draco. That was rather odd. Draco was normally at breakfast around this time every day of the week. But pushing the thought out of his mind, he returned to the conversation that was happening around him.

The House-Elves, Draco thought, could be really annoying. The little buggers had been in his bedroom when he'd emerged from his shower, picking up feathers. They refused to leave, even to allow him privacy to get some clothing on, until they were finished. Draco almost informed them of how much time they were wasting. It was much easier for the Veriae himself to pick up his own feathers. They were still keyed to him after all. So if anyone else tried to do so, as the House-Elves were doing... well, it took a long time. So Draco started working on breaking the record for longest time wearing nothing but a towel.