When the Snow Melts

A Good Hug Will Fix Everything

A loud crashing noise startled Draco awake, his wand instantly in hand to fight off whatever threat had gotten past his wards. A gasping sob emanated from a huddled form in front of his window. His breath caught in his throat, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest as he caught sight of two bright emerald eyes, swimming in anguished tears.

"Harry?" Draco questioned in confusion. "What happened?"

"I attacked Hermione," he wailed, repeatedly slamming his fists into his thighs.

Draco didn't know what to say, didn't know how people should behave in a situation like this. He stared at Harry, his own eyes growing wide with panic. Harry was shaking with emotion, drawing short, gasping, painful sounding breaths.

"Breathe," Draco reminded, worried that Harry's hyperventilating would cause him to pass out.

Harry didn't appear to have heard him, his breaths still coming out frantic and ragged. Draco threw off his covers and crossed over to the boy, gripping him by the shoulders rather roughly, and slamming him up against the bit of wall under his windowsill. His head hit the stone with a sickening crack. Draco hadn't intended to be so rough, his own panic getting the best of him.

"Breathe," Draco ordered, shoving the boy against the wall again, but not as hard this time.

Harry nodded, eyes wide with surprise as he looked up at Draco. He forced himself to take in a long drag of air and then let it out slowly.

"Again," Draco commanded with more forcefulness, feeling a little more confident about the situation. As long as there was a task he could concentrate on, then everything would be fine.

Harry took another long shuddering gulp of air, and then another, and then another until his breathing sounded normal again. He sagged against the wall, Draco's arms on his shoulders being the only thing holding him upright.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, a dead look settling in his eyes after all his emotions had drained away.

Without thinking, Draco slapped him across the cheek, his hand stinging a bit at the force of it, his other hand still pinning him against the wall.

"Don't be sorry," he spat in angry irritation before pulling away from the boy. Harry's body slumped forward, his head resting on his knees.

Harry had a nasty habit of taking responsibility for every bad thing that happened around him. Draco didn't intend to let him get away with it this time. He had to take control of the situation.

"Get up," Draco ordered in a testy voice. Harry made no move to comply.

"I SAID GET UP!," Draco shouted, yanking the boy to his feet by the collar of his pajamas and dragging him over to the couch. He shoved him down roughly, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of the boy.

"Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself," Draco growled, eyes locked on Harry. "I doubt you just barged in here in the middle of the night to have a good cry, so tell me what happened."

"I told you already," Harry grumbled, some of the fire coming back into his eyes. "I attacked Hermione."

"So you say, but that doesn't really explain anything," Draco shot back. "I mean, I get that words are hard for you Gryffindors to manage, but some details would be nice."

Harry glared at him so intensely that Draco feared for a moment for his own safety. Maybe there weren't any extenuating circumstances, maybe he had just lost his temper and attacked Granger without just cause. It would have been very unlikely, but...

"Just forget about it," Harry snarled, standing to leave. "It was stupid of me to come here."

Draco grabbed Harry by the wrist, preventing him from walking away, needing to know the whole story.

"Sorry," he apologized, feeling a twinge of irritation at the fact that he had to do this. "That was uncalled for. I will try to choose my words more carefully."

Harry slumped back down onto the couch, appearing to have accepted Draco's apology.

"So what happened?" Draco prodded.

"Hermione offered to sleep with me tonight...," Draco's brow creased in confusion at the revelation. "...and I had a really bad dream. I hurt her. I don't think Ron is ever going to forgive me. You should have seen how he was looking at me."

Draco resisted the urge to make a disparaging remark about Harry's best friend. It wouldn't have helped the situation.

"I feel like I'm losing control," Harry admitted, raking trembling fingers frantically through his messy hair. "Sure, I've thrown a few stray punches and kicks in my sleep, but this was different, this was violent and intentional. I thought she was someone else. I could have... I could... have... killed her. If Ron hadn't..."

A choking sob escaped him as he rapidly worked himself back into a panic again.

"Breathe," Draco ordered, grabbing the boy by the shoulders once more. "Just breathe."

Harry nodded weakly, his face scrunched up as he concentrated on slowing his breathing.

"We'll figure something out," Draco assured him. "This wasn't your fault; it was an accident. I'm sure they realize that."

Harry stiffened quite suddenly, fixing Draco with a penetrating stare that sent shivers down his spine.

"I killed him," Harry gasped. "In my dream – I killed him. It wasn't an accident."

"Killed who?"

"Ron," he whispered darkly. "He – he killed you, only you were a dragon and then I – I didn't mean to – I was so angry – I just ran at him with a sword. Then Sirius showed up and told me I would have to choose. I – I tried to kill him too, only it wasn't Sirius I was punching, it was Hermione."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Draco's heart gave a happy little flutter. Harry had killed his best friend in order to avenge his death. While it was just a dream, Draco struggled not to grin madly at the boy. He felt like he wanted to whoop and holler, like he wanted to run through the streets shouting his victory to the world. Harry's ragged breathing jerked him rather violently back to reality. Now was not the time to start celebrating.

"Breathe," Draco reminded with a little shake of his shoulders, the barest trace of a smile on his lips.

Harry slumped forward, his forehead resting gently on Draco's shoulders. Draco's heart gave another happy flutter as he wrapped the boy in his arms, pulling him closer. He had carried the boy plenty of times before, but never could it have been considered an actual hug. Why was he getting so excited over a silly hug? Except for family, had he ever hugged anyone before? Certainly none of his housemates had garnered this level of affection from him. Was it because this was the first time he had willingly hugged someone that wasn't a family member? Draco marveled at the warm feeling that spread through his chest.

"Let's get some sleep," Draco coaxed, whispering the words into Harry's ear.

Harry nodded in resignation, allowing himself to be led. He pulled up short at the edge of the bed, face filling with dread. Draco tugged gently at his hand, trying to get the boy to move.

"I can't," he whispered. "I might..."

"Attack me?" Draco questioned.

Harry nodded.

"I think I can handle myself against one puny Gryffindor," Draco replied with a smug expression on his face.

In response, Harry smiled weakly, allowing himself to be dragged into bed when Draco tugged at him again.

Endnote: The possibility that he might like Harry a bit more than just as a friend hasn't even crossed his mind yet. They are both being so oblivious. My concern here though is this – do you think I'm straying a bit out of character with them? God, I'm so nervous.