The Enemy's Ball

7. Be alright

Draco:

When Draco woke up, the sun hadn't risen yet, and he realized that he'd probably only slept for a few hours. He cast Tempus, and sure enough, it was only 5 AM. He'd fallen asleep at about 2, so that was 3 hours. He rolled his eyes and tried to stand. "Ow." He breathed. His entire body hurt. It felt like he'd been hit by bludgers repeatedly, and then sent to play Quidditch. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but he really didn't feel good. He stretched and winced, the day didn't seem promising so far.

He stayed sitting on the floor, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stared longingly at the bed above him, it seemed so comfy. The bed creaked, and Harry's head rolled over the side. Draco muffled a laugh, Potter looked ridiculous. But- that couldn't be comfortable. But Draco didn't... shouldn't, care. Still, for some reason, he couldn't leave him like that. So Draco stood up, not too easy to do when you were as sore as him.

He stretched properly, and grimaced as his joints crackled. That didn't sound good. Well, he had successfully stood up, so that was a plus. Now. How to move Harry without waking him? He labeled his ideas as "good" or "bad", ruling out the bad ones. He tapped his leg as he thought.

He carefully placed his hands under Harry's head, ignoring the butterflies he felt when he touched the Gryffindor's hair. It's so soft. He thought. Then he snapped to reality and realized he was practically petting Harry's head. The Gryffindor would likely not be very happy if he woke up to that. Draco cleared his thoughts and tried to get back to his mission. He very gently lifted Harry's head and placed it on the bed. Then he slowly slid his hands out from underneath it.

Harry turned over and Draco froze. But the Gryffindor was still asleep and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped away from the bed and grabbed some clothes, heading to the bathroom to take yet another shower.

Harry:

Harry sat up slowly in the bed, shielding his eyes from the light. He squinted and flailed around for his glasses. He eventually found them underneath his pillow. He was relieved to see that they weren't broken. Of course, if they were, it would be simple enough to fix, but Harry's repairing charms weren't the best. He put his glasses on and lowered his hand. His eyes had finally adjusted.

He leaned back into the pillows, still tired. And the bed was so comfy... Light! School! Class! Harry jolted up. He was going to be late, and it was only the first day. He slid out of the bed and slipped on a blanket that was strewn on the floor. He fell onto his bottom with a groan. He certainly did not squeak as he fell, because Gryffindors don't make such sounds.

He rubbed his butt and stood up. Why was there a blanket on the floor in the first place? Harry threw the question away, he was late! He had no time for such things as blanket questions. He grabbed his toothbrush and pulled open the bathroom door.

Malfoy stood at the sink, his own toothbrush in hand. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, who looked rather odd with his unruly hair and wrinkled clothes. Harry was staring wide-eyed at the Slytherin.

"Can I help you?" Draco inquired sarcastically.

Harry mumbled an apology and shut the door. If Malfoy was still here, then it couldn't be too late. He sat on the blanket he'd previously slipped on, noting absently that it smelled familiar. He cast Tempus, which told him that it was only 7 AM. Why on earth was the sun so bright at 7 AM? Breakfast didn't start until 8, and classes began at 8:45.