It Seems To Be

Harry Potter gingerly escorted Draco Malfoy through the glass window that served as the hospital entrance. Harry kept a hand on Draco’s elbow as they walked down the street, attempting to look as if he were merely helping the other man out. He ignored the fact that it was making him feel better.

-

“Potter, I’m not going back to the Manor. Do me a favour. Tell the Ministry they can have it, along with any other Malfoy property. I don’t want it. They make me sick, quite literally.” Draco sat haphazardly in a chair in Harry’s office smoking a cigarette.

“Yes, well I’d like to ask you a few more questions, starting with this mysterious illness of yours. How is it that a Malfoy is allergic to…that?” Harry sat behind his desk intent on ignoring the antics of the man in front of him. He looked around for his notebook, and then realized that Draco still had it. “Malfoy! Give me my bloody notebook. It’s important.”

The champagne blond smiled quite beautifully at Harry’s little outburst. He leaned over the desk and laid his upper body on top of it, resting his head in his folded arms.

“Oh, Harry…Harry, Harry, Harry. I looked through it in the loo. You’re not as slick as you used to be. And they let you investigate murders and such? Tsk tsk. But that’s not the point. The point is that all around your notes about me and the investigation, you’ve been doodling your name. Sort of. Mr. Harry James Malfoy. Mr. Harold James Potter-Malfoy. Harry Malfoy. Harry and Draco Malfoy. Care to explain that one to me?”

Before Draco could even look up, he heard a loud thud as Harry’s body hit the ground. He passed right out.

“Oh, bugger.” Draco put out the cigarette he had and lit another.

-

Hours later Harry Potter woke up warm and cozy in his bed. He smiled sleepily and rolled over onto his stomach putting his butt in the air. Rubbing his face into the pillow and mumbling nonsense, he didn’t even think about the happenings in his office. Yet.

“Potter! I see you’re awake. And horny, I suppose? That’s quite normal, don’t worry. Happens to the best of us.” A voice rang out from the other side of the room. Harry froze and then immediately dropped flat onto his bed. And then he tumbled out of it. “Really. I’m supposed to be the sick one, and you’re just dropping all over the place. Maybe we should get you looked at.”

Harry quickly tried to get up and out of the sheets, making a spectacle of himself. When his finally appeared, his entire upper body and face were flushed bright red. Realizing his half-nakedness he made a funny little sound and grabbed up a sheet to cover his body.

“Aw, Harry! I was enjoying myself there. You tease.” Draco giggled like a little girl as he stood in front of the bureau.

“Calm down, I don’t intend to rape you or anything. You fainted, and I sat there for a few minutes smoking a cigarette, looking through your things…and who should pop in but Mrs. Hermione Thomas! She asked me what happened, and didn’t even think that I hurt you. I was quite surprised. Then she gave me your address, packed up your things, and told me to put you in bed. You slept for quite a while; I poked you a bit to make sure you were okay. And here we are!”

Harry grumbled for a moment, cursing Hermione to hell in a hand basket. He toppled over onto his bed and curled into a ball, making sure every inch of his body was covered by blanket.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t real. It’s just a dream. A silly, scary mother fucking dream. I must have fallen asleep at the office. IT’S ALL JUST A DREAM.” Harry tried burrowing into his bed, wishing it would simply open up and swallow him whole.

“Come now, Harry. It’s alright. Don’t be shy. I don’t mind, really. It’s quite flattering. Don’t you remember when we were in school?” Harry’s head popped out of the sheets and he glared at Draco.

“Remember what? That we were enemies? That we hated each other? That you harassed everyone dear to me?” Draco looked crestfallen, his gunmetal grey eyes sweeping the floor.

“Oh, Harry…you obliviated yourself, didn’t you?”