Bleed Me An Ocean

Students gawked in open-mouthed shock as they made their way down the halls to Potions. Everyone was simply too stunned to speak. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were holding hands instead of hexing one another. They both looked disheveled and tired, particularly Malfoy who was letting Harry lead him, though he wasn't struggling. He followed almost dociley. What struck the passing students as even more strange was Harry - his jaw was clenched fiercely and he walked with an air of determination. They parted around the odd pair as they strode right down the center of every corridor they passed through.

Harry stared straight ahead of them, his emerald eyes glittering dangerously as if daring someone – anyone – to say something to them. Draco wasn’t nearly as confident about the situation at hand and his eyes roamed the sea of students and the hallways, never resting in one place too long. His heart knew this had to be done – was going to be done – but he also knew the consequences would be dire. While Draco’s position wasn’t nearly as tenuous as Harry’s, after all he was only risking his head on a platter in the Slytherin common room; he would still be made to pay for openly admitting that the two once arch rivals were now an item. Harry, he thought, his eyes trailing to the form in front of him; the only one he knew to be safe and he sighed.

His raven-haired lover was risking so very much by choosing to do what they were doing. Draco was well aware that all of Harry’s friendships would be placed on the chopping block and a weight settled in the pit of his stomach. He was risking everything he had – both in life and at Hogwarts – just for the sake of being with him. His emotions became a tumultuous jumble of both love and sorrow for Harry, a twinge of guilt and regret for the position Harry was in now and pride; something he couldn’t remember having felt in years. True, it had been the Gryffindor’s decision to do it, but at what cost?

Draco knew the price would be high, very high. Maybe more than what Harry would be able to deal with and he wanted nothing more than to hole himself up in a local broom closet and drink until he couldn’t remember his name; but he couldn’t let the boy face the firing squad alone. After all Harry had done for him, he knew that being by his side at such a critical juncture in their lives was where he belonged. His own eyes narrowed in defiance as he settled into the idea.

They were descending down into the dungeons now, pushing against the thronging students, many of which stopped to stare just like all the others who'd seen them. Coming to stop in the chattering group of students waiting outside of Potions, Harry strode forward and Draco followed, beginning to sweat nervously. Draco cringed at the sudden and total silence that fell over the crowd. He could see Ron, who looked slightly green at first, then his face reddened to a deep crimson that could only mean one thing - he was going to explode. Hermione merely looked ashen and aghast. A little better, but still not good by any means. This is not going to come off well, Draco thought shakily, hand unconciously reaching to stroke the calming lump that was his whiskey bottle.

Pulling Draco even closer; a gesture that was both protective and meant to reassure himself, Harry slipped his hand from Draco's only to slide his arm around his waist, squeezing tightly. He let his eyes scan the gaping faces before he spoke slowly and evenly, "Hello everyone."

His speaking seemed to set off a chain reaction and the group began muttering at once, voices steadily growing louder. A sea of "What is this?" and "Got to be a joke" and "Malfoy's done something to Potter" swarmed over the pair, becoming a wall of white noise.

Ron had been eerily quiet throughout, but finally his voice roared above all the others with, "WHAT THE BLOODY JESUS IS THIS, HARRY?" The red-haired youth presented the perfect picture of outraged disbelief. His eyes were fever-bright with anger and his red face was closer to being burgundy.

Answering him calmly, Harry replied,"This, Ron, is my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy."

Ron began to shake and advanced on the two, grabbing Harry's arm and telling him, "He's done something to you, Harry, you don't mean that," and tried to pull him away.

"No . . . no he hasn't," Hermione spoke, her voice surprisingly small. While Ron had been fuming, she'd had the same thought and had tried every counter curse and love potion detecting spell she could think of. She had, of course, found nothing.

"What do you mean, Hermione, of course he has! Look at this!! Are you blind?." Ron spoke, his voice an enraged rumble.

Choosing to speak up, Draco spoke bitterly,"I haven't done anything to anyone."

"Shut your fucking mouth Malfoy," Ron snapped angrily as Harry wrenched his arm free from him. He stalked to Draco and glared in his face, drawing back to hit him.

Seeing what was fixing to happen, Harry stepped between them and punched Ron squarely in the face, knocking him back into the nervously shuffling group of students. "You don't touch him. You will never lay a finger on him. Do you understand me?," his voice was edged with cold rage, fury sparking in the deep green of his eyes.

He continued, looking at Ron who was glaring even more furiously than before as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, "He IS my boyfriend, he did not hex me, curse me, or force me into this in any way. I am with him because I choose to be, and I am sorry if some of you can't accept that. But here's some news: this is MY life, my choices and my love. Not yours. You do not run me, nor do you make up my mind for me. This what I want. So. Piss. Off.," he spat the last three words with a hatred no one had ever heard from him before.

A look of utter astonishment crossed Ron's face for mere seconds before it turned hateful and loathing. Slowly wiping the blood from his mouth onto his robes, he sneered at Harry and Draco and straightened his shoulders. "If that," he started, his eyes blazing in righteous fury, "is what you want to call your lover, then you are no friend of mine, Harry Potter." He stared into Harry's eyes, his voice lined with steel and ice, "Take your bitch and never, ever speak to me again."

Harry's heart sank as he heard Ron say those words. He had known the reaction wouldn't be good, but the way things had escalated and Ron's behavior had thrown him for a loop. He'd just lost one of his best friends, and by the betrayed look on Hermione's face, he'd likely lost her as well. Glancing around the corridor, he saw no friendly faces, except Neville's. He seemed neither angry or happy, simply surprised by all that had happened. He didn't know how he would react to him later on, but even his blank expression was better than everyone else's.

Unwilling to give up that easily, he spoke to Hermione pleadingly, "Please, Herm, please try and accept him. The person you knew isn't the person he is, or really ever was. Please."

"I . . . Harry . . . I don't think I can. I just . . . no," she said, unable to meet his eyes. She looked to be on the verge of tears as she looked down at her feet.

"C'mon, Hermione, I don't want to go to Potions today. I can't bear to look at this filth another second," Ron snarled, disgust hardening his features and making him look much older than he was. Grabbing her by the arm, he propelled her unprotesting form down the corridor and up the stairs, leaving Harry to stare in their wake with sorrow etched into every line of his face.

Looking back at the group, he was taken for surprise when he noticed Snape leaning in the doorway of the classroom. How long had he been there? Had he seen and heard everything? By the look on his face, he had indeed. The hair on the back of Harry's neck prickled at the look in Snape's oil-black eyes. The look on his face was one of unveiled contempt, yet there was something else flickering in his unreadable eyes. Harry wanted to call it understanding, but that was wrong. It was just . . . he didn't know what it was. All he knew was Snape didn't look ready to blast him to pieces and he took that as a good sign.

"I believe, if this show is over, you all should find your way into my classroom," he drawled, "And you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, I believe will be needing new partners?"

"Yes, sir, I think we may," Harry spoke, his voice sounding very tired all of a sudden.

"Then you may work together for the time being, that is, if you think you can pay attention to my lessons and not each other?," he questioned, his voice sounding oily and amused.

"We can. I swear it, Professor Snape," Draco spoke, his eyes dazed and his heart breaking for Harry. He could deal with people ignoring him and refusing to be his friend. He was actually surprised at how fast he had adapted to being invisible unless he was the brunt of some malicious joke. Yet, Harry . . . the sorrow in those green eyes killed him.

"Then, please stop dawdling around in this corridor and come inside," Snape said, turning on his heel, cape snapping as he walked into the class, still leaving Harry and Draco standing there.

"Did all of this really just happen?," Harry whispered, his voice cracking a little.

"Yes, it did. I'm so sorry, Harry, this is my fault," Draco said, his tone regretful.

"No it's not. At least I know where I stand now. I couldn't have stood sneaking around to see you. We WILL be together. This will blow over eventually," he said, thinking, I hope it will anyway. I am going to be with Draco though, regardless, but he was beginning to have his doubts about people coming to accept them. He supposed he would live with it then, if that was to be the case.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Harry grabbed Draco's hand again and walked into Potions with his shoulders back and head up. But inside, inside he felt like he was drowning and Draco was the only thing keeping him afloat.

=*|*=

It was time for supper and Harry and Draco were making their way to The Great Hall, trying to ignore the stares and rudely pointing fingers. By the time they reached the huge doors, Harry was shaking with fury once more and Draco was all but ready to jump into the nearest trashbin and hide. His nerves had taken all they could stand for one day. He just wasn't built for the sorts of things they had dealt with in so few hours. Panic had gripped him on and off since they'd left The Room of Requirement that morning and he was ready to give into it. He really wanted to go somewhere quiet where he and Harry could be alone and maybe, just maybe, he could get roaring drunk and block out the day's horrible turn.

Walking back from Potions they had been bombarded with looks from passing students. No one had spoken to them, but everyone whispered as they walked by. As they had turned a corner, Draco had seen a flash of Slytherin robes right before he felt a warm gob of spit on his cheek. He had shied away from the nasty feeling, bumping into Harry who'd looked concerned and asked if he was alright. Thankful that he hadn't noticed what happened, Draco had only swiped at his cheek and said he was fine.

They walked into the dining hall and were greeted by yet again more silence. Looking around they saw more than their fair share of malicious glares from the tables of their respective houses. Hermione had glanced their way, then looked back down at her plate, trying to ignore their presence and Neville simply ate like nothing had happened. Ron, however, looked on the verge of another outburst, the look on his face was downright murderous. The Slytherins were no better, their hateful gaze settled on the pair as well. It seemed like those pairs of eyes were shoving them backwards, propelling them back into the main corridor to dispel the unappeasing sight of them together from their mind. Sighing heavily with resignation, Harry turned and left the room with Draco following close behind.

Professor McGonagall had watched what happened from her seat at the faculty table with deep shame. Her Gryffindors were behaving in such a manner that she could barely tolerate it. Brave and loyal they were supposed to be, yet they were acting like spoiled, cruel children. She could not bear it. Watching as Draco and Harry turned and left The Great Hall, she excused herself as well. Walking to her house's table, she stared them all down and spoke low, her voice rife with disappointment, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves. That young man has never been anything but a friend to you. Ungrateful children, the lot of you," she finished, her sharp eyes locking with Hermione's for a moment and seeing that of them all, she did at least have the decency to appear ashamed. Walking quickly from the hall, she went to look for the two boys.

"What are we going to do, Draco? I'm starved and we can't even hope to have a meal in peace," Harry said, his voice shaking with frustration.

"I really don't know, I suppose we could try the kitchen," was his response.

"Alright. Maybe Dobby will give us something," Harry said, changing his direction and trudging off toward the kitchen.

A throat cleared loudly behind them before they had taken two steps. "Excuse me, gentlemen," Professor McGonagall spoke, taking in the wary expressions on their faces as they turned to look at her.

"Yes, professor?," Harry ventured tentatively.

"I just want you two to know that not all Gryffindors feel the same as your housemates," she said, smiling gently at them.

Stunned by her acceptance and compassion, Harry smiled gratefully and even Draco seemed to perk up considerably at her words. It was the first time she had laid eyes on the pale boy since he'd fled from the start of term feast. She could sense his glamor and having heard the rumors about him and Muggle music, she could guess the cause for it being there. Shaking her head slightly, she continued on with what she had to say before she changed her mind.

"I realize this is a difficult time for you both right now and I am not entirely confident how safe it is for you to stay in your dormitories. I have spoken to the Headmaster and he is in agreement with me. Therefore, you two may lodge together in any room in the castle for now. May I suggest The Room of Requirement for the time being? That is, unless you two have somewhere else in mind. This offer is only temporary for now, we will have to see how things with your classmates go before this is considered a permanent arrangement. Oh, and Mr. Malfoy, I believe I am also correct when I say that not all Slytherins are of the opinion your housemates are," she finished, glancing at the hooked nose that peeked around a corner, "Am I right, Severus?"

"Yes, Minerva, you are," said Snape, stepping around the corner, looking disgruntled at having been caught eavesdropping.

"Well, with all that said, I'd like to suggest you boys gather your things and find a place to stay for the time being," McGonagall stated, she and Snape turning to leave.

"Wait, Professor McGonagall?," Harry started.

"Yes, Mr. Potter? What is it? I'd like to get back to my dinner soon, so hurry it along," she said, her voice once again stern.

"Ah . . . well . . . how are we going to eat?," Harry queried.

"That's simple enough - if you stay in The Room of Requirement food shall be no issue, you need only require it. I think you should know this. If, on the other hand, you choose to lodge somewhere else, then I believe calling a house elf should be sufficient," she stated, a small smile curling her lips.

Dobby! Of course!, Harry thought, the stress of the day having done a sufficient job of obliterating his intelligence it seemed.

Pausing once more, she directed her gaze at Draco,"Also, Mr. Malfoy, would you please be kind enough to grace me with your presence in my class from now on?"

"Erm . . .," Draco faltered, his cheeks flushing hotly "Certainly professor. Of course."

After the two professors had left, Harry turned to Draco, positively beaming. Finally something had gone right for them and it was about time. "Well, looks like we're going to be roommates," he spoke to Draco.

"Yes and now I have to go to Transfiguration too," Draco said, sounding at once pleased and sulky.

Laughing, Harry kissed his cheek with a loud smack! and told him to go get his things and meet him outside The Room.

Shuffling his feet, feeling awkward, Draco looked at Harry, "Harry, I'd rather not stay there. I kinda . . . well . . . "

Knowing what he was getting at, Harry grinned at him, "You want to stay in the old classroom don't you?"

"Yes. That's alright isn't it?," Draco asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Of course it is! It's where we first "met"," Harry laughed.

Smirking back at him as the memories tumbled back, Draco said, "Indeed it is. I'll meet you there shortly."

"It's a deal," Harry said, eyes twinkling. He turned to leave, but Draco's hand on his arm stopped him, "What is it?"

"Just wanted to say thank you, for everything. And give you this," Draco said, stepping close to Harry and kissing him quickly before he turned and headed for the Slytherin house.

=*|*=

They had barely finished moving in before students started coming back from supper. Sighing with exhaustion and relief Harry and Draco locked the room securely, adding silencing charms for added protection. Slumping against the wall, Draco pulled his bottle from his pocket and took a swallow. Seeing Harry watching him, he offered it the bottle to him. Harry only shook his head no and asked if he was hungry.

"Not particularly," was Draco's response as he wiped a dribble of liquor from his chin.

"You need to eat, you're practically emaciated. Whiskey is NOT a food group," Harry joked.

"I never would've guessed that," Draco stated, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

Laughing a bit, Harry told him, "I am going to eat tonight and you, sir, are going to dine with me."

"Is that so?," Draco challenged.

"It is," Harry said right before he yelled Dobby's name.

With a loud crack the house elf appeared, covered in layers of clothing, including a red lacy something that looked suspiciously like lady's underwear on his head.

"Harry Potter, sir, that nasty Mr. Malfoy is standing behind you!," Dobby warned uselessly, his eyes bugging in alarm, "Do not worry though, Dobby will protect you," he stated, tiny features tense with determination as he stepped forward, clearly terrified but meaning what he said.

Draco couldn't help but laugh a little at the elf's reaction and seriousness as he watched Harry grab him by his arm.

"No, Dobby, Draco isn't going to hurt me, he's my friend," Harry spoke gently.

Looking at Harry with something akin to horror, Dobby whispered, "This is not true?"

"It is true, Dobby," Harry said, his voice hardening, "He's my friend and new roommate. Dobby, please don't be afraid. He's not going to hurt me or you."

"If Harry Potter is sure, then Dobby trusts his decision. He is a very smart man," Dobby said, all doubt gone from his voice.

Harry visibly relaxed then, glad that Dobby still trusted him, losing the little elf's friendship would've been more than he could've stood in one day.

"Dobby is pleased to serve you, too, Mr. Malfoy. Harry Potter's friends are Dobby's friends. Yes," the house elf stated, nodding his head for emphasis.

"Thank you, Dobby, I appreciate it," Draco said, meaning every word.

"Now, what will Harry Potter need?," Dobby said, turning to look expectantly at Harry.

"I need lots of food, Dobby, lots and lots of food brought here. I also need you to promise not to tell anyone where me and Mr. Malfoy are," Harry said.

"Dobby can do both. I will be back soon," with that he apparated from the room.

Six heaped trays of food later, Dobby finally left after having to be assured several times that yes, it was enough food. Ignoring Dobby's protests of "But you said you wanted lots and lots, Harry Potter. That is barely a lot, sir." Harry had shooed him gently away, swearing that it was plenty.

"He certainly wants to please you," Draco stated, then cocked his head to the side as Harry collapsed in a fit of laughter. The insistence in Dobby's voice had just been too much.

"What's so funny?," Draco asked.

Only shaking his head, still laughing a little, Harry gestured to the many trays and said, "Let's eat."

"I'm really not that hungry. You eat and I'll just keep you company," Draco argued.

"No. You are going to eat with me. One, you need it. Two, I hate to eat alone," Harry argued back.

Draco still looked dubious as he sipped from his whiskey. Thinking, he finally shrugged and said, "Ok, fine. I will eat with you. But I am really not hungry."

Harry gave him a dirty look as he heard Draco's stomach growl in protest. Sighing, Draco made his way to where the trays sat and perused their contents. Settling on half of a turkey sandwich, he sat in the dust with his back against the wall and began to nibble halfheartedly at it. Watching him, Harry's eyes narrowed, "Eat, Draco. What are you, anorexic or something?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco said, "Merlin, no, Harry! It's nothing near so dramatic as that."

"Then what is it?," Harry asked.

Fidgeting uncomfortably, Draco debated whether he should tell him. Deciding he would, he spoke in a rush, "I don't eat much because if I do, it kills my buzz and I have to start all over again."

"That's why you won't eat? Damnit, Draco, that's absurd! You can always get more whiskey, unless you starve yourself to death in the process of trying to make what you have at hand last longer! My gods!," Harry spluttered at him, throwing his hands in the air.

"We drinkers are a strange breed," Draco said sarcastically, even as he reached for the other half of the sandwich and some small squares of cheddar cheese.

Harry calmed down as he watched the blonde eat with a little more purpose. He knew he was doing it to please him, but it really didn't matter. Draco actually eating something is what mattered. Content with the small battle he'd just won, he attacked a large bowl of spaghetti and meatballs with a vengeance.

"Harry, when we're done eating, what do you say about cleaning this place up?," Draco inquired.

"I say that's the best idea I have heard all day," Harry said, casting a glance at the grime-covered floor.

=*|*=

Four hours and many sneezes later, the room was clean. The bare stone floor shone with a new luster and their scattered trunks and belongings had been organized in a far corner, opposite the pile of blankets and pillows that comprised their bed. It was spare, but for the time being, it was home. Harry vowed to find them a bed, or at least to find a spell to conjure one the next day. He was just too tired that evening to bother and so was Draco.

He sat next to Harry, copying his Transfiguration notes, stopping for a swallow of alcohol every three minutes or so. Harry watched him, his features content, but his eyes were troubled. The events of the day kept swimming over him, his heart dropping over and over again as he recalled Ron's and Hermione's words to him. And the silence and stares from everyone else. It infuriated him to no end. His very insides seemed to tremble in impotent rage. How could they have been so harsh, so refusing to understand? To even try to understand? It was wrong and he hated it more than anything. If he could accept Draco, then why couldn't they? If they only knew the Draco I know, he thought with a sad kind of anger that seemed to settle into the pit of his stomach.

He watched as the bottle made another visit to Draco's mouth and was tempted to ask him for a swallow. The alcohol did seem to soothe the other boy in a way he couldn't imagine. He seemed calm, his eyes were a little unfocused, but they didn't seem to be screaming so loudly. He shook the thought from his head just as quickly as it had formed. The last thing this relationship needs is two alcoholics, he chided himself. With one last unconcious glance at the whiskey, he reached out and stroked Draco's hair,"What do you say to saving the rest of those notes for tomorrow and coming to bed with me?," he whispered seductively in Draco's ear.

"Don't you mean let's go to floor?," Draco kidded.

"Yeah, that," Harry laughed as he stood and held his hand out for Draco to grasp.

Pulling him to his feet, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Draco's. The heady taste of whiskey was still intoxicating and Harry deepened the kiss, their tongues gently caressing one another. Breaking the kiss, Harry tugged him towards their pallet where they fell into each others' arms and both sighed in contentment. They were both too exhausted from the day's events to even bother with sex, so they wrapped themselves up in the heavy covers and soon both were sleeping deeply.

A/N: Just so y'all know, there will be more smut, but sometimes plotting without sex is necessary. (Really! It is!! Stop looking at me like that . . . =P)

Not too sure where Hermione is gonna end up standing in this, but just let me say, Ron is a fucking prick. It pissed me off just writing it. I'm odd, sorry. Also, I will be jumping ahead a bit with my next chapter, but it will be labelled and I'll try and toss some backstory in as well.

Finally, a big THANK YOU to all of my reviewers on the last chapter, particularly those of you who understood why Draco didn't just stop drinking. I may love to write fiction, but there is a realist in me that just doesn't believe in fairytales. Please keep those reviews coming. I am utterly addicted. :D