The Dragon's Child Bride

A/N: Hey all. Sorry it took so long. I will try to do better, but I won\'t make promises on dates or weeks because I\'m usually wrong and then I feel bad. But keep heartened, I will not give up on this story, it\'s too much fun. Thank you to Megan for her awesome beta work!

Chapter 27:

She woke up slowly, grateful for the darkness Draco’s rooms provided. She knew right away she would spend the day nursing a monstrous hangover. Her head pounded and her mouth felt dry. How much had she had to drink last night? Laylani thought back; the champagne, firewhiskey, more firewhiskey…It had all begun to run together after the fifth or sixth drink. She tried to think of anything past the first finished bottle, but nothing came. What exactly had she done after that?

She uncurled her legs and winced. Right. That’s what she had done last night. Hazy memories floated through her mind in bits and pieces. She frowned slightly; she’d acted like a whore last night. The sex had been good, absolutely amazing even but she’d made an idiot of herself and she wasn’t quite sure how to face Draco.

‘Well, no time like the present.” she thought ruefully and rolled towards the heat of Draco’s body close behind her. Well, tried to roll anyway. She was - stuck? She turned her head as far as she could to see her right hand tied to one of the slats of the headboard.

Laylani panicked immediately. She was tied -tied!- to the bed! She tugged at it as if it might not really hold her, might be only a figment of her imagination. Still stuck. Laylani began to panic. Why was she tied to the bed?

She had to get out of here. She needed to leave. How could he - why would he do this to her? Maybe - because she had acted like a whore, now he was treating her like one? Her breath came in hard pants and it felt as if her throat was collapsing. What if he tried to hurt her? She couldn’t protect herself. She couldn’t breathe. Her gasps were getting louder and louder as she began to tug and claw frantically at the tie holding her to the bed.

Her frantic breathing and tiny whimpers of panic woke the sleeping man next to her.

“Lani, go back to sleep.” He rolled onto his side and muttered “It’s too early.”

“Let me go!” He rolled back toward her, looking sleepily confused.

“What?” Laylani kicked him hard.

“Untie me!” she screamed.

“Ow! Jesus, Lani relax.”

“NO! No, I cannot relax! Untie me!”

“Laylani, listen to me-”

“Untie Me!” She kicked wildly at him again. “Did you think you could keep me here? That maybe you could just leave me here for whenever you had an itch to scratch? Beat some frustrations out on me? That’s all I’m worth?” Her eyes began to tear. Draco frowned.

“What? Of course not! Laylani you aren’t making any sense.” He bent his body in to avoid another one of her painful kicks and she managed to swipe his face with the nails of her free hand, not breaking flesh, but was sure to leave angry red marks on his otherwise perfect skin. He scowled; now he was annoyed. He grabbed her free hand and pinned it down.

“Stop that.” He said it slowly, evenly, almost with a sense of menace to it. He took a deep breath. This situation had to be dealt with carefully. One wrong move would push her away from him and he would no longer be able to hide her signs before that blasted Order.

“Now Laylani, tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” she railed. “What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You’ve got me tied to the fucking bed like your personal property!” The tears were streaming down her face now. “I won’t - I’m not…” she hiccupped a sob.

It was starting to become clear to Draco, at least somewhat. His features softened, and his voice was much gentler.

“No, oh no pet. Never-”

“But you did! I am!”

“No, Laylani it’s not what it looks like-”

“I’m tied to the fucking bed!!!” He scowled. How was he supposed to explain if she wouldn’t listen?

“Be quiet!” he said sharply. Draco took another deep, calming breath. “You need to listen so that I can explain. Alright?” She nodded once, eyes wide, and she was starting to hyperventilate. “Calm down pet. Everything’s okay. I’m going to untie your hand, but only if you will keep calm and listen to what I have to say. Understood?” She nodded again. “No more hitting then?” She shook her head. He silently leaned over her and nimbly undid the knot. The silk tie fell loose and she pulled her hand away quickly. He poised himself for any attack or attempt to flee but none came; Laylani intended to keep to her word, hoping against all hope that this was some sort of massive misunderstanding.

“Are you okay pet? Do you want a minute to calm down?” She was about to refuse it in hopes of getting this sorted out immediately but thought better of it. How could she listen when she could barely hear him over her frantic pulse? She nodded slowly.

“Okay, tell me when you’re ready, Princess.” She nodded again and rolled over, her back towards him. Laylani placed a palm over her heart, willing it’s frenzied pace to slow. It was nearly at a manageable rate when a soft hand on her back made it spike again, causing her body to jolt forward and for her to gasp.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t touch you.” Draco frowned, more distressed then anything else; she’d flinched from his touch. Goddammit! He should have seen this coming! He should have thought, should have known better than to tie her down. Draco could only imagine what she must think of him. He felt like the very lowest form of evil. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, she turned back towards him.

“Okay.” she said quietly. “I’m ready now.” She looked so nervous and vulnerable that Draco had to restrain his urge to reach out and touch her, to comfort her in his embrace. He propped his head up on one elbow and began.

“I shouldn’t have tied you, alright? I’m sorry. But you have to believe that I would never, ever do that without reason.” She remained silent, waiting to hear what possible reason there could be for him to do something like that. He seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply, some assurance that she did believe him, did trust him still.

Finally she spoke. “I’m listening.” Draco frowned slightly, unable to gauge what she meant or how she felt by that statement. He continued hesitantly.

“I couldn’t sleep last night, you kept thrashing and flailing in your sleep, you hit me a couple of times.” She nodded, knowing that was most likely true. As if to drive the point home he went on. “I’ve got bruises, see?” He pulled the sheet down slightly to reveal a few of the blooming purple contusions she’d bestowed on his chest and ribs. Laylani blushed, guilty and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” she said softly.

“Don’t worry about it, Princess.” he answered hastily. “It’s alright.” It wouldn’t do if she thought he was presenting his case as if she had done something wrong. “It actually proved to be a good thing, because if you hadn’t kept me up, I’d never have known what happened.” She looked to him expectantly, desperate to know exactly what happened that would result with her tied down to the bed.

“I don’t know why,” he said slowly, “But for whatever reason, you were sleepwalking last night.” Laylani frowned, disappointed that this was the best he could come up with when she had been so willing to believe him.

“I don’t sleepwalk.” Draco lifted his hand and dropped it uselessly with a sigh.

“I know you never have before but you did, I swear you did. You got up and walked towards the portrait. I think you would have left if I hadn’t stopped you. Do you remember? Do you remember I woke you up last night and we came to sleep in the bedroom?” His voice was practically pleading with her to remember, knowing the likelihood was little to none.

Laylani’s eyes shut tightly, fighting for any memory that was even remotely like what he described. Nothing. Not a damn thing.

“I need to go now.” she said finally. She sat up, still clutching the black sheet to her body. “I need to think.” Laylani got up from the bed, bringing the sheet with her to wind around her body and hide her nudity.

Draco was worried to say the least. “You know I would never do anything like that to you, don’t you?” His voice was as near as a Malfoy’s had ever been to desperate. “You do believe me, don’t you pet?”

“I don’t know.” she said quietly. “I want to.” He’d never lied to her but she was certain she didn’t sleepwalk. “I have to go.” she repeated.

“Alright.” he answered numbly. He didn’t know what else to say; he felt as if he’d just taken a bludger to the stomach. She didn’t believe him?

Laylani hurried into the front room and quickly dressed herself in the discarded clothes. She made to pick up his Quidditch robe to protect her from the chill, but stopped. She couldn’t take it, not under these circumstances. She looked back to the doorway of his bedroom, for some reason hoping to see him there. He wasn’t. She sighed sadly and hurried out the door.

She made it to her rooms without running in to anyone she knew. She was grateful; all she wanted to do was hide in the dark of her rooms until the hangover passed and perhaps mull over what had happened with Draco. What had he been thinking tying her to the bed? She forcibly pushed that thought back. She wasn’t sure if she would ever want to truly know.

She pushed open the portrait to her rooms and winced at the amount of sunlight the uncovered windows let in. With one hand shielding her eyes, she hastily pulled all the curtains closed, ensconcing herself in darkness. Sighing in relief, Laylani decided a hot bath and perhaps brushing her teeth was in order.

After nearly an hour in the bathroom, she emerged feeling clean and minty fresh. Her only complaint now, at least physically anyway, was her monstrous hangover including a pounding headache, though if the hangover was the source she couldn’t be sure. Keeping the lights very dim, she rummaged through her things for a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie. She jammed her feet into her warmest pair of slippers and trotted out into the front room to light the fire and get some proper heat.

She dropped in front of the fire place with the intent to light it when something caught her eye. Something was in her fireplace. She pulled back the grate and found that there were four bottles just sitting there. Odd. She reached for the first one and pulled it out.

***

Ogden’s Firewhiskey

***
What on earth was that doing here? Upon further investigating the unusual contents of her fireplace she found two more bottles just like it as well as a bottle of red wine. Now she was thoroughly confused. Why was there alcohol in her rooms, in the fireplace of all places? She tried to think, but dammit, her mind was always so muddled. Being hungover only made it worse. She put all her energy into fighting through her confusion trying to find any reason that there would be three bottles of firewhiskey and a bottle of wine in her fireplace.

Wait a minute…three bottles of Firewhiskey…and a bottle of wine….That order was far too familiar to be a coincidence. Oh, shit.

Lucius.

Dammit. She’d sent him a letter last night, hadn’t she? She’d blackmailed him for liquor, insinuating that he might be able to get her forgiveness with it. He must have flooed it in.

“Fuck.” she muttered to the empty room. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!…ow.” The shouting made her head hurt.

For a moment, she thought about going to the infirmary for a hangover potion, or maybe the headache potion but neither sounded very appealing; both entailed entering the blinding, aching brightness of the school halls. Not to mention she hardly wanted to admit to Madame Pomfrey she’d been so very drunk, and if that green headache potion kept failing her as it had been, it would just be a waste of time.

Laylani sighed. Her head hurt. She couldn’t think straight. All she wanted was for all of it to go away.

Or at least, for it to seem like it did.

She looked at the bottles in front of her. If, and only if, she were to drink now, it would kill two birds with one stone; it would clear her mind for awhile and get rid of her hangover. She weighed the possibilities in her head. Really, it was too early to drink. She shot a look at the clock on the mantle, it read 10:30; rather tacky, unladylike, un-Malfoy to start drinking this early. But then again, no one would have to know. It was a Sunday after all, she didn’t technically have to leave her rooms. She could just stay there and get a little drunk, just enough to feel better, to clear her mind and not have to think. It wouldn’t matter just this once. Or she could sit around all day, feeling crummy and think, as much as she was capable of being so constantly muddled, about what had happened with Draco.

The decision was easy to make.

Laylani decided to open the Firewhiskey, knowing it had a higher alcoholic content, and hid the other bottles in a drawer in her desk. She pulled the cork with her teeth and set it aside. She lit the fire and sat back on the couch with the opened bottle, and took a long drink. She felt the welcomed burn slide down her throat and settle in her stomach. She continued to drink, enjoying the feeling of becoming pleasantly detached. Slowly her hangover dissipated and her headache faded. Her mind became blissfully empty of anything but the fact that she felt good.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco was miserable. No, worse than miserable. He was almost certain he’d never felt worse in his entire life. She hadn’t believed him. The only person who’d ever seemed to trust him completely…didn’t. She’d left over two hours ago and he still hadn’t left the bed. He couldn’t bring himself to.

Really, he knew that wallowing in self-pity was distinctly unMalfoy. It was pitiable to stay here and long for her. He shouldn’t. He should either go up there and get her, make her see reason or move on with his day, go on as if nothing were wrong. But she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to see him, not now, and he could only imagine how much worse the situation could become if he tried to force the issue. So that really left him no choice. He would have to get up, go about as if nothing were amiss even if everything was.

In one of the most dramatic moves he’d made since she left, he rolled towards the clock on the bedside table. It was just after eleven. He had an hour to make himself presentable for an appearance in the Great Hall for lunch. She would be there, she had to be; she was bound to be hungry and Sunday lunch in the Great Hall was notorious for having sandwiches with mayonnaise. Draco was fairly sure she wouldn’t miss that, no matter how upset she was with him.

He crawled out of bed, shivering at the loss of warmth that his blankets had provided. ‘Fucking cold air,’ he thought. ‘Fucking cold stone floors, fucking cold, period.’ He centered his thoughts on the inane to keep them away from the important things. As he showered he thought about the inadequacies of his shampoo, as he dressed he hunted for loose threads among his clothes. Anything to keep his mind occupied.

He strolled slowly towards the Great Hall doing the things he would have normally done, making small pleasantries to the few he deigned to talk to and acknowledging those who congratulated him on yesterday’s fantastic win. He passed a few patented engaging smirks to a group of fawning sixth year girls he passed. He should’ve been walking on air, or at the very least, somewhat enjoying things. But he wasn’t, not really. It was nice of course, but he couldn’t seem to enjoy it properly.

He took his seat nearest to the doors at the Slytherin table and waited patiently for her to arrive. He made small talk with one of his housemates, Blaise Zabini, one of the few people in Hogwarts he found to be even remotely worthy of his time. They chatted idly, talking of nothing of great importance, mostly Quidditch statistics. Crabbe and Goyle arrived and took their usual seats to his left, making inane comments he couldn’t have bothered to listen to.

Lunch materialized onto the table; sandwiches, many containing mayonnaise as predicted. But Laylani hadn’t arrived. He frowned, reaching for a sandwich and setting it on his plate. Where was she? She had to be hungry by now. He craned his neck to search Gryffindor table. Maybe she was so upset with him that she’d chosen to sit there, despite her differences with Potter? His eyes scanned over those seated along the Gryffindor table. Laylani wasn’t among them.

His frown deepened. Why wasn’t she here? Surely she was famished by now. Uncertainly, he scanned the other tables, just in case. She had a few acquaintances in the other houses, it was possible she might sit with them. But she wasn’t.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She felt pleasantly disconnected. Her mind was empty if not clear, and that was good enough for her. She should have done this sooner.

“Silly girl!” she said out loud, making her giggle.

Fuck, it had gotten hot. She looked down to see what little revealed skin that her hoodie didn’t cover and she found it red. She laughed again, thinking she looked a bit like a tomato. Laylani rose unsteadily off the couch and stumbled into the bedroom to find something lighter to wear. She fumbled around in the dim lighting of her room before giving up and ripping back the curtains; the light was no longer painful aside from the initial discomfort of her eyes adjusting to the change.

She searched through her drawers and pulled out a tank top. It was a bit of a struggle to get the hoodie off but not half so troublesome as it was to put a shirt on. Somewhere between her elbows and her neck the shirt had become twisted and Laylani was tangled up in it, unable to really move it in one way or the other. It took her a full five minutes to wrestle it down to sit properly. That surely deserved a drink.

She dropped heavily onto the couch and held up the bottle of fire whiskey.

“To Laylani!” she said dramatically. “The best shirt wrangler in the West!” She dissolved into laughter and took a small drink from the bottle. She continued to babble to herself as she drank just a bit more, not really trying to get any drunker, only to maintain this state of inebriated bliss.

A knocking on the portrait took her attention away from the elaborate and ridiculous imaginary scenario she was constructing of being a shirt rancher, going on great shirt drives across the plains. It was probably for the best that she was interrupted.

Despite the idiocy of her imagination, she did still have the presence of mind to hide the bottle she’d been drinking from. “Who is it?” she called as she shoved the bottle between the couch and the wall behind it.

“It’s Draco. Let me in.” She frowned. As if he were in a position to be so demanding after what he’d done.

“What do you want?”

“Well for starters, I want you to let me in.” Laylani’s frown deepened.

“Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I don’t want to see you, have you ever considered that?”

“Like I’d waste my time. Let me in.” Laylani walked up to the portrait.

“No, I don’t think I will.” She heard an indignant snort through the door.

“Fine. I’ve got better things to do, anyway.”

Laylani returned to her couch and her drink. ‘Jerk.’ she thought irritably, then shrugged. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known he could be like this before she’d agreed to marry him. She frowned. She didn’t want to think about marrying him right now; he’d tied her up, the bastard!

Another drink was definitely in order.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco continued to wait for her. And he’d waited. And waited. And he’d waited still.

The meal had ended and she hadn’t come. Nervousness had begun to settle in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t she come? Was it simply because she was that upset with him, or had something happened? He dreaded the thought. He rose from the emptying table.

“Oy, mate.” called Zabini. “You haven’t touched your food.” Draco looked blankly at his plate where the untouched sandwich he’d taken at the beginning of the meal sat. He shrugged. He wasn’t hungry any more. He walked quickly out of the Great Hall, no longer trying to pretend that everything was alright.

He needed to check on her. He knew it would only make her more upset if she were fine, but if she weren’t he had to know. Draco hurried up the steps, expertly navigating the halls and rotating staircases to the floor of Laylani’s room. He was nearly at a run when he arrived at the portrait. The maiden on the shore gave him a strange look, but shrugged and said nothing. He knocked on the portrait. He knew the password, but he wouldn’t barge in on her, not if she was alright and still didn’t want to see him.

“Laylani?” He heard a few thumps and shuffles from behind the door.

“Draco? Jesus, what do you want now? I told you before I’m not letting you in so piss off.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think I made myself quite clear so just go away.”

He stared at the portrait, unsure of what to do next. She still didn’t want to see him, and while he’d expected that, it still hurt a bit. A lot. Finally, after long moments of silence he spoke.

“Okay.” He turned slowly on his heel back the way he came. He took small comfort in knowing at least she was alright.

Draco’s slow walk lacked it’s usual confident strut and swagger as he returned down the stairs, through the halls, back to his rooms. The painting of the mother and child closed noiselessly behind him and as he walked through his common room he began to divest himself of the clothes he’d put on only two hours before. He was naked by the time he’d reached the bed and slid under the sheets to his side of the bed, pulling the blankets up around him. He didn’t know what else to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She waited in the unused storage closet until she was certain that all the effects of the polyjuice potion had worn off entirely. That hadn’t gone anywhere near as well as expected. Laylani hadn’t even let ‘Draco’ in the room. Pansy frowned slightly; it was just her luck that the happy couple would have a fight today. Still, some good had come of this. The girl had believed she was Draco, at least by sound. That was a start.

She tucked the set of Draco’s clothes under her arm and made sure it was properly hidden by her cloak. Checking that the coast was clear, she dashed down the hall to return the Head Boy’s clothes to the laundry room with no one the wiser.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was just after seven when his quiet solitude was broken. He lay back staring at the ceiling, not caring who was quietly creeping into his room.

“Master Draco, sir?” It was Dobby, timidly peeking over the edge of the bed. “Is Master Draco asleep?”

“No Dobby. I’m awake. What do you want?” The elf cowered slightly but seemed determined.

“Master Draco missed his dinner.” Draco rolled away from the elf and sighed.

“I know.”

“Master Draco missed his breakfast and lunch too.” Draco didn’t answer this time.

“Master Draco?”

“What do you want Dobby?” he asked irritably. Dobby trembled slightly, wringing his little hands.

“Master Draco needs to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” Dobby, knowing he would have to punish himself later for bothering the Head Boy, but bravely he continued on.

“Master Draco must eat, sir. Dobby will bring him something. Is there anything Master Draco would be wanting?”

“I don’t feel like eating Dobby, get lost.” Dobby was sure he would have to punish himself most grievously.

“Dobby cannot let the Master go hungry sir. Surely there is something the Master is wanting?”

“No. Leave, Dobby.” Dobby knew he would have to punish himself most grievously.

“Dobby cannot leave until he knows the Master has eaten.” He cowered, petrified of whatever should come next.

Draco scowled. It was obvious Dobby was not going to relent until he knew Draco had eaten. He was tempted to punish the elf himself for disobedience but a better idea came to mind.

“I’ll eat on one condition.” Dobby looked up to him hopefully. “I’ll eat something if you go check on Laylani for me.”

“Check on Miss Laylani for what sir?”

“Just make sure that she’s alright in her rooms.” Dobby nodded.

“Dobby will fetch a plate for Master Draco.”

“No, look in on Laylani first. Then I’ll eat.”

“Yes, Master Draco.” With a snap of his fingers, Dobby was gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She’d fallen asleep around five on her bed, still wearing her sweat pants and tank top. She was abruptly woken two hours later, in pain, laying at an awkward angle on the bedroom’s hardwood floor. She vaguely recognized Dobby scuttling away from her in the darkness. The effects of the alcohol had worn off for the most part and all she was left with was that constant headache.

“D-Dobby? What…? What are you doing here? What happened?” Dobby shrank back.

“Dobby is so sorry to have tripped Miss Laylani. Master Draco sends him to look in on Miss Laylani - Master Draco’s so worried he is!- and Dobby tried to get out of the way…Oh Miss Laylani, Dobby is so sorry!” He began to bang his head against the wall.

“No - Dobby…Stop That!” Dobby stopped, cowering.

“It’s alright Dobby, you aren’t in trouble. But you need to tell me exactly what happened. Start with Mas- with Draco.”

“Dobby went to check on Master Draco, to bring him food. Master Draco’s plate wasn’t touched for breakfast or lunch. Dobby still tries to take care of Master Draco, even if Master Draco is no longer a little one. He-”

“Okay, so you went to see Draco, then what?” She felt bad to cut off the little elf but she didn’t have time for him to wax poetic about Draco.

“Of course, Miss Laylani. Dobby wants the Master to eat, but Master Draco won’t eat he is so worried. So Master Draco says he will eat if Dobby will go check on Miss Laylani, to make sure she is okay. So Dobby comes and Miss Laylani was sleeping but she gets up-”

“I did?”

“-And she walked over and Dobby tripped her! Oh, Dobby is so sorry Miss Laylani.” They were both quiet for a moment, Dobby fearing her anger and Laylani contemplative.

Sleepwalking. She’d been sleepwalking. Dobby had no reason lie, nor did she think he would; Draco had told her the truth. He’d only been trying to help her and she’d been so horrible to him.

“It’s alright, Dobby.” Laylani said finally. “You can go now.” Dobby nodded.

“Dobby will tell Master Draco not to worry.”

“No!” She managed to stop him before he could disappear “Don’t say anything to Draco. Just - Uh, go back to the kitchens Dobby. Please.” Dobby paled, and his expression became more fearful than before.

“B-but, Master Draco won’t eat until he knows about Miss Laylani!’ he wailed. “It is Dobby’s job to make sure she is well and bring Master Draco food. Dobby cannot let the Master starve!”

“Dobby, he’d hardly starve.” That didn’t assuage the little elf in the least.

“Dobby will be forever shamed to let his Master go hungry!” Laylani shook her head; one simply couldn’t reason with a desolate house elf.

“Alright, Dobby, go tell him I’m fine, bring him something to eat. Just don’t tell him anything else, alright? Promise me you won’t tell him about me getting out of bed and -er- tripping. Promise me, Dobby.” Dobby nodded.

“Dobby promises.” he said solemnly, and he disappeared.

She sat still in the silence of her room silently thinking things through, her eyes tearing. Draco had told her the truth and she hadn’t believed him. He’d never lied to her, never given her any reason not to trust him and she hadn’t believe him. She’d hurt him when all he’d been trying to do was protect her. How could she have doubted him, even for a second?

She had to go to him, apologize and hope like hell he could forgive her.

Tears streamed down her face. She rushed to his rooms as fast as her legs would take her. The deeper she got inside the castle, the colder the stones were against her bare feet only causing her to move faster. She tripped on the last of the stairs that lead to the floor his quarters on, twisting her ankle, but righted herself quickly. She limped slightly but continued to run until she was at his portrait. She gasped out the password and the portrait swung open to reveal him sitting on the chesterfield picking at the plate of food Dobby must have brought him.

“Laylani?”

She dropped to her knees next to the sofa. “I’m sorry.” she sobbed. “You were right, you were right. I should have believed you. I’m sorry.” She buried her head in her crossed arms resting on the cushion. “I was sleepwalking. I-I didn’t know! I’m sorry, I should have trusted you. I should have known-” She broke off into staccato weeping.

Draco stared down at the scene in front of him. Words failed him. With unsteady hands, he reached out for her and began to stroke her hair. She looked up with him with bloodshot eyes and a tear-streaked face, and for a fraction of a second it looked for all the world as if she were praying for forgiveness at an altar. He frowned; she need not ask for forgiveness, she already had it. God knows she’d forgiven him time and time again for his many blunders.

“It’s alright, Princess. You don’t need to be sorry.” She looked up at him.

“But-”

“No buts. Come here.” She got up unsteadily and he pulled her towards him onto the couch. Laylani rested her head against his shoulder and he held her, stroking her hair, and she let the tears of sorrow, relief and confusion run out.

“Draco,” she sobbed. “What’s happening to me?’ She didn’t seen his pained face. What could he tell her?

“I-I don’t know.”

“I don’t know what to do. I just feel like I’m falling apart.” Her tears came faster now.

“No, Princess. Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” Draco wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“But I should be able to take care of myself! You shouldn’t have to be burdened down with me.”

“Laylani, I don’t mind. I love you, and -” He sighed heavily. “Look, I won’t lie to you. I don’t know a whole lot about love, but I do know that it means I’ll take care of you when you can’t. I know you would for me, so…just let me? Trust me, wholly, entirely and I‘ll protect you. Let me watch after you, please?” Her weeping came to a slow halt and she smiled up at him, tears still shining in her eyes. He truly was her knight, her hero.

“Okay.” Draco smiled.

“Okay. Have you eaten anything today, love?” She shook her head and he pulled the plate on the coffee table towards her.

“You should have something then.” She contemplated his offer for a brief moment; she knew from Dobby that he hadn’t eaten anything either.

“I’ll split it with you.” she offered. He nodded and together they finished the plate of chicken, salad, and mashed potatoes Dobby had prepared. They chatted idly through the meal, punctuated by a few discreet yawns on Laylani’s part.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” he asked when they had finished. She nodded silently and he took her hand to lead her to the bedroom.

Laylani tried to force her voice to be impassive, but it wavered with nervousness. “You‘re going to have to tie me down again, aren‘t you?”

“Actually, I had a better idea.” He grabbed his wand from the nightstand, smiling to himself. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon thinking about what he should have done the night before, and now he was glad of it. Really, he should have thought of it the yesterday but perhaps it had been for the best, at least to some extent, that he hadn’t; he could’ve been highly dangerous with a wand.

“So - what exactly are you going to do?” she asked softly, not without a trace of uneasiness.

“The leg-locker curse.” he answered nonchalantly.

She tensed, searching her memory for that particular curse. Indeed, the word ‘curse’ was disconcerting, but she had agreed to trust him wholly and entirely. He must have seen the confusion on her face because he began to describe the curse to her.

“It’s nothing painful, love. It’s basically what it says; the curse locks your legs together so you’re unable to walk. You’ll still be able to move around, and your upper body will be completely unaffected. Is that okay with you?” She nodded.

“Alright. Locomotor Mortis.” Laylani felt her legs bond together. She made an experimental attempt to pull them apart without result. She smiled at him.

“All good.” He snorted.

“I should hope so; it’s quite an elementary spell. I used it on Longbottom in first year.” She tried to frown but was overcome with the urge to giggle at the idea of hapless, helpless Neville hopping about.

“That’s awful!” she exclaimed. He smiled.

“So you’re alright?” She nodded. “Good. Feel free to wake me up if you need to, alright? I mean that.” She nodded again. He kissed her lips and then the tip of her nose. “Goodnight Princess.”

“Goodnight Dragon.”

He lay back and the light turned out. Almost immediately, he could feel her squirming on the bed. “Is there something wrong, love?”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to…” She wiggled again and sighed heavily. “Could you-” Her voice softened to the point of vulnerability, “Could you pull me closer so we can sleep like we normally do?” He chuckled.

“Of course.” He slid his arms around her, one under her waist and one over her shoulder, and hauled her towards himself. He rested her head on his chest and kept his arm around her waist to keep her close.

“Good?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nuzzled against his skin.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was the loss of heat that woke him up. He clutched around him for the blankets only to find them still in place. Why should he be cold then? He opened his bleary eyes to look across the empty bed.

He sat bolt upright. Where was Laylani? He scanned the room. Impossible as it was, because he knew he’d performed the leg-locker curse properly, Laylani was on her feet walking in that same shuffling manner towards the door.

Draco grabbed his wand, pointed it at her and used the first spell that came to mind.

“Immobulus!” The spell hit Laylani squarely in the back and she stilled. Draco stared at her for a moment, wondering just how she could have gotten out of the Leg-locker curse when Laylani seemed to glow a brilliant green for fraction of a second and somehow she began to move again.

“Shit!” he muttered. He lurched off the bed and stumbled to his feet, catching up to her just as she stepped out the bedroom door. Draco grabbed her shoulders from behind and spun her around to face him. He shook her roughly calling out her name.

“Lani! Laylani, wake up! You were sleepwalking.” He tapped the side of her face a few times, wanting to make sure she was fully awake to avoid any mishaps like that morning.

“I was what?”

“You were sleepwalking, love.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, trying to make sense of what she was hearing.

“But you cast that curse, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then how did I…?” He shook his head.

“I don’t know.” he lied. Well, partially lied. He wasn’t sure on how it was happening, that green glow that seemed to release her from the confines of the immobilization spells, only that it did. “Come back to bed.”

“But how can I? I’m going to - I’ll only…” He frowned.

“We’ll have to do it the way we did last night.” She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Lani.” He took her hand and the couple returned to his bed.

She lay down nervously, afraid but forcing herself to trust him and his decision, at least until morning. Laylani stretched up her hand and waited while Draco grabbed the silk tie of his bathrobe. He sat next to her on the bed and reached forward. She visibly flinched.

“I’m sorry.” he said, stroking her hair soothingly. “I promise it’s just for tonight. We’ll figure out something tomorrow, I swear.”

She nodded. “Go ahead.”

With a grim smile he leaned forward and securely tied her hand to one of the slats of his headboard. “Is that good?” She tugged at it and it held.

“Good as can be expected, I guess.”

Draco climbed across her body and lay next to her. The tension in her body was evident. She couldn’t help it; she would never be comfortable being tied up, no matter what the reason. Draco pulled the covers up around her.

“Are you comfortable?” She frowned. He kept asking such obviously stupid questions. ‘Is that good?’ ‘Are you comfortable?’ Of course not! She tied down for fuck’s sake. Laylani held in a sigh. He meant well; it wasn’t his fault she was sleepwalking.

“Yes. Thank you, love.” It was the best they could hope for, at least for now. Draco fell asleep in short order, holding her hand for comfort, though whether it was for his comfort or hers it couldn’t be said.

Laylani lay wide awake taking in the castle at night, the creaks and shuffles, the sound of Draco when he slept, his hand squeezing hers by chance and the warm puffs of air he blew across her neck. And no matter how peaceful those sounds might have been, Laylani could not sleep. Not tied up. She knew in her heart she was really in no danger with Draco there, but her head knew that being tied up left her vulnerable to any and all kinds of attacks. Sleeping increased that vulnerability exponentially. She would get no sleep that night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No amount of cold water seemed to help Laylani wake up that morning. She was miserably tired having gone the entire night without sleep. She’d left Draco’s rooms shortly after he’d woken up to return to her room. She’d have left earlier but could not untie her hand. She frowned just thinking about it as she stepped out of the shower.

She checked on her reflection as she did her hair and makeup. Draco had cast a concealment charm to hide the bags under her eyes. The only tell-tale sign of her sleepless night was her bloodshot eyes, but she doubted anyone would be looking that closely. Laylani took care dressing herself, the slick buttons being a bit elusive when she was so tired. Finishing, she sat on the couch and waited for Draco, who’d said he’d walk her to breakfast.

Sinking into the warm comfort of her sofa made her want to sleep but she wouldn’t. She made sure to keep her eyes moving, fighting the urge to close them. As she scanned the room, the half-empty bottle of Ogden’s caught her eye. It wouldn’t do to have Draco find that in her rooms. She picked it up with the cork and was about to put it away when a thought caught her. It was going to be a miserable day anyway, that much was sure; why not liven it up a bit with a drink?

She shook her head, forcing herself to put the bottle in the drawer with the others. She didn’t need to drink. She would tough it out. Yes, that’s exactly what she would do. She sighed and sat back on the couch to wait for Draco. She checked the clock; it was 7:40. It seemed as if she’d just sat down when the portrait swung open.

“Draco, you’re a bit early yet.” He seemed confused by her statement.

“Actually, I’m a bit late.” She checked the clock to find it was just a few minutes shy of eight o’clock. She frowned.

“But it can’t be. I mean, it was just - I could’ve sworn…” How could nearly twenty minutes have slipped away from her without her noticing? She shook her head, her brow furrowed, and stood up. Draco eyed her critically, stopping her as she tried to walk by him.

“What?” she asked.

“Your blouse. You - It’s not buttoned properly.” She looked down to the long line of buttons on her shirt. He was right. She frowned and began to undo them with the intent of buttoning them properly. Draco brushed her hands away and began to redo them himself.

“Thank you.” she said softly, not without some annoyance. She could have done it herself. He smiled wanly to her, passed her the school jumper and the couple left for the Great Hall.

Breakfast went as usual. She sat with Draco at the Slytherin table and barely touched the food on her plate. She had a few forkfuls of eggs and a glass of juice. The meal ended and she left for her first class, Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

The class passed slowly and tediously, practicing a the transfiguration of elements, something she had mastered by the time she was nine. She was unaware of the conversations that took place around her. It seemed to take forever for the class to finally end. She was nearly out the door when Professor McGonagall stopped her.

“Miss Stanners, may I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course Professor.” Professor McGonagall pulled her closer.

“Miss Stanners, you look a bit under the weather today and your attention and effort wasn’t what I’ve come to expect from you. Are you unwell?” The professor’s thin lips were pressed in a worried frown. Laylani blanched.

“No, no. I’m quite fine. I’m sorry about that, I just had a bit of trouble sleeping last night. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“Trouble sleeping? Does that happen often, dear?” Laylani was unnerved by the sudden inquiry and the endearment the Professor had used.

“N-no. That, that was the first time since I’ve arrived. It really isn’t a big deal. If I could be excused Professor, I’m going to be late for class.” That seemed to wake the woman out of her concern.

“Of course, of course.” Laylani nodded and left hurriedly. The halls were bustling with students, and she fought her way through the swarm towards her Charms class, three floors down. She’d only made it down one set of stairs and was crossing over through a hall when a flash of blond hair caught her eye.

She looked over to see Draco leaning up against a trophy case, his back to her, talking to a pretty dark haired girl she couldn‘t recognize. She couldn’t see the tie of her uniform which Laylani used to identify students to their house.

Laylani stepped aside to avoid being trampled by the flow of students around her, waiting patiently for a gap to cross the students and walk with Draco to her next class, and perhaps find out who the girl was. By the time a suitable gap to cross through came along, Draco and the girl were gone. Laylani shrugged, disappointed to have missed him but went on her way.

She arrived at Charms just shy of being late, sliding into her seat as Professor Flitwick took the floor. Draco smiled at her and she smiled back, having it on the tip of her tongue to ask him who he’d been talking to earlier when the professor began the lesson. She had to force herself to pay attention to the lesson and not let her mind drift, which wasn’t easy when the question of the pretty girl was on her mind. She stifled yawns and her head drooped, but she managed to stay awake through the entirety of the class.

Laylani packed away her parchments slowly, making sure she had everything. Draco waited beside her and she could sense his impatience. Potions was next, and while he had somehow lost his admiration for Professor Snape, it was still his favorite subject and he wouldn’t like to be late.

As they walked towards the dungeons, Laylani could no longer keep the question to herself.

“Draco? Who was that girl you were talking to before class?”

“What girl?”

“On the fourth floor, by the trophy case.”

“I wasn’t on the fourth floor.” What?

“Yes you were. I saw you. You were there talking to a pretty girl with dark hair.” He looked over at her, both puzzled and amused.

“Pretty girl?” He was smirking. Was she jealous? “Which one?”

She smacked him hard in the arm. “That’s not even a little funny.” she said sourly. He laughed softly and put an arm around her loosely.

“Laylani, there’s no pretty girl in my life but you. I wasn’t even on the fourth floor. I had Care of Magical Creatures, I came in and went straight to the second floor.”

Laylani frowned as she thought about what he’d said. She ran it through her head and after a few moments of searching her knowledge of his schedule, she found he was telling the truth. But how could she have mistaken him? She was sure no one else at Hogwarts had that distinctive platinum hair. Still, she must have.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just so certain it was you.” He shrugged.

“Think nothing of it.” They walked in silence to the Potions classroom.

They partnered up as usual for the days given potion. He began to diagonally slice the monkshood while she stirred the bundimun base clockwise as it simmered in the cauldron.

“So, how was your day so far?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Fine. I got in a bit of trouble in Transfiguration.” Draco’s hand stilled.

“Trouble? What happened?”

“It was nothing really. I just had trouble paying attention and McGonagall stopped me after class, asked if I was alright.” Draco grabbed her shoulder, still holding the knife in the other hand.

“What did you tell her?”

“Just that I’d had a bit of trouble sleeping last night, that’s all.”

“Why? Why would you tell her that?” He sounded nearly panicked, angry. She bit her lip, worried that she’d somehow upset him.

“Because it was true.” she answered nervously. He let her go, but still seemed very upset.

“Don’t tell anyone that. Don’t tell anyone anything.” he said quietly. She frowned.

“Why? What does it matter?” He seemed even more annoyed.

“Because it does. You said you would trust me completely to take care of you and I’m asking you to trust me now. Don’t tell anyone. Not about the dreams, not about the sleepwalking, nothing. Alright?”

“Alright.” she answered softly. Why was he being so controlling?

“Good.” He returned to his dicing and she to her cauldron, managing to catch it before it boiled over. Of course, Snape would have to pass at that very moment. He sneered at the cauldron before turning to Draco.

“I suggest you watch the cauldron while you work, Mister Malfoy.”

Laylani was aghast. Not only had he ignored her, talked about her as if she wasn’t there, but he’d insulted her skills. She knew full well she was one of the best students he’d ever had; she’d made one mistake and he’d implied that Draco should just do the potion himself so she wouldn’t muck it up! Before she could think about it she’d turned around.

“I can handle it just fine thank you very much!” The class turned to look at her, but Snape merely brushed past her as if he hadn’t seen or heard her at all. She stuck her tongue out at his retreating form. Draco grabbed her wrist tightly and she turned back to him, her lips in a tight frown.

“What?”

“Don’t do that! You’ll only get yourself in more trouble.”

“But he- he just…didn’t you see what he did?” He sighed irritably as he added a portion of the sliced monkshood. Why was she being so difficult?

“He didn’t do anything unusual.” Her jaw dropped.

“Since when do you take his side?”

“I’m not taking sides, just…Watch the cauldron.”

“Fine!” she snapped. They worked in silence for the rest of the class. The class finished and she packed her stuff away and left without a word. She stomped up every step until she reached her rooms. She slammed the portrait with as much force as she could. She had History at the moment, but she would be late, she didn’t care.

Laylani yanked open her desk drawer, making the bottles inside rattle. She hastily pulled the cork out of the half bottle of Ogden’s and took a long, long drink. She replaced the bottle, now with only slightly more than a quarter left, back in the drawer and slammed it shut.

She’d been wrong. The day so far had been worse than miserable, and she couldn’t tough it out. And quite frankly, she couldn’t give a shit.