Kneeling

Disclaimer: See part 1


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Harry awoke to the alarming knowledge that someone had cursed him in his sleep. Caput miserum, probably, to judge from the way his head was pounding. Or some other headache spell, something even more vicious. God... it felt like his brain was about to leak out of his ears from the pressure.
He opened his eyes cautiously, but immediately screwed them shut again, when the bright sunlight streaming through a slit in the bedcurtains sliced into his eyes like a laser beam. The pounding in his head got louder. He groaned.

“Hey, you finally awake?” came Ron’s voice from beside him. “Thought you’d sleep all day! You’ve missed breakfast, but Fred said we’d better let you sleep till you woke up on your own.”

Harry turned to him, relieved. “Ron, someone’s cursed me”, he croaked. His tongue felt wrong, too - swollen and furry, and there was an awful taste in his mouth, he noticed now. “I think it’s -“, Damn, what was that spell with the tongues called, anyway… ah. “Lingua crassesca, and…” He stopped mid-sentence when Ron started laughing. “What?”

“Ah, Harry.”Ron’s voice was shaking with amusement.“That’s not a curse - that’s a hangover.”
A hangover? How had he gottan a hang- oh, god. No. With a rush the images from last evening came back to him. Jenna’s party, the schnaps, and… Malfoy.

His tomach turned with a sick lurch. Ron suddenly looked concerned. “Whoa, wait a minute - here.”
Harry barely had time ton grab the waste-basket Ron handed him before he was violently sick for the second time it less than a day.

Ron watched him with a slight grimace, but made no move to come nearer, for which he was grateful. The memory of Malfoy’s cool hand holding his hair back was all too clear right now.

When he had finished, Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket, and Harry watched him perform one of the simpler cleaning spells. At least that took care of the nasty smell.

Ron put the wand back into his pocket and handed Harry a small vial with a pale green, viscous liquid inside.

“Hangover remedy. Fred gave it to me.”

He smiled at Harry’s suspicious look. “Don’t worry, I tested one of those myself some time ago. It’s not going to turn you into a canary or something.”

Harry unstoppered the small vial, grimaced, and drank the contents down in one big swallow. To his surprise, the taste wasn’t half as nasty as he had come to expect from potions. Instead, it only tasted slightly minty.

Almost immediately the pounding in his head subsided, and the light stopped hurting his eyes.
Ron, who had been watching his expression change to one of relief, grinned at him. “Not bad, huh?”
“Great, actually”, Harry conceded.

Ron nodded. “Drink some glasses of water, too, that’ll make the rest of it go away. And you’d better take a shower - you like like hell.”

Harry grinned weakly. “Well, thanks anyway.”


A few glasses of water from the tap took care of the rest of his headache, and after a long, hot shower Harry felt almost human again. Ron was waiting for him in front iof the washroom.
“You want to go down to the kitchen, get some food?”

Harry shook his head. His stomach still felt slightly queasy at the thought of food, and right now he wasn’t up to dealing with the house-elves’ enthusiasm, either.

Ron shrugged. “All right. You want to get started on that potions essay, then?”

Harry groaned. He had completely forgotten about that essay. Ten inches on the effects of ground scarab beetle till Monday. But today was only Saturday - he could still do it tomorrow. And he wasn’t exactly in the mood for company right now.

“Look, mind starting without me? I’ve got some things to think about right now.”

Ron threw him a curious look, but didn’t pry. “Sure. I’ll be in the library, if you change your mind.”
He nodded, and Ron went up the stairs to their room.

Harry thought about where to go for a moment, then walked out on the grounds. It was a gray, cloudy day, but not too cold, and the fresh air felt good. He sat down on some stones on a secluded little corner of the lake. On sunny days, this place would often be occupied by couples, holding hands and watching the giant squid lazily wave its tentacles in the lake, but right now it was deserted. Harry leaned back on the rough stone and closed his eyes.

Well. Seemed like it was time for the big questin, then. How the hell could this have happened?
But actually, now that he thought about it, it really wasn’t all that strange. He’d always been able to see that Draco was attractive, with his silver-blond hair and his icy blue eyes. Of course, before yesterday he’d never thought even for a second of acting on that attraction. After all, even if Draco hadn’t been a death-eater’s son, and probably well on his way up that particular career-ladder himself, Draco was a spoiled, insufferable brat.

But that didn’t really have all that much to do with it, now did it? It wasn’t like sex was some kind of mystical connection between souls like in Lavender’s romance novels. People slept with people they didn’t actually like all the time. He briefly thought of a conversation between aunt Petunia and one of her friends he’d overheard once.

“You know, Egon’s such a prententious bastard!”, Griselda had said, “But I’m telling you, with that muscles and that ass - I couldn’t give a damn.” She’d been giggling like a schoolgirl, too.
So, yes. That’s what it was. Sexual attraction, nothing more. It didn’t mean anything.

And that stupid little declaration of love that had pissed him of so much at the time? He’d probably misunderstood. Thinking back on it, Harry wasn’t quite sure anymore in what context Draco had said it - some of the memories were still a little blurry around the edges - but he’d probably been joking, or making some ironic comment on something Harry had said.

“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love you, stupid, why else. Hardy ha ha.”

Yes. Had to be something like that.

He smiled to himself. There really had been no reason to get so upset. Malfoy surely wouldn’t be, either. For him, one-night-stands like this were probably par for the course, or something. He got up and went back up to the castle. There was still an essay to write, and he’d have to tell Ron something to explain his strange behaviour from earlier. Pity the truth wasn’t an option - he laughed out loud just imagining Ron’s face when he told him: “Nah, don’t worry, I was just feeling guilty because I let Draco blow me in a hidden room last night. I’m all over it, now.”

But actually it really wasn’t funny at all.


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A/N: In case anyone was wondering, the curses are real Latin, not just random words.
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