Somnio Salvus DRARRY

Chapter 16

Harry stared incredulously at the door, which had just slammed shut behind the departing Slytherin. He was still gripping his wand so tightly that his fingernails were digging painfully into his palm, but he hardly noticed.

He flung the wand onto his disarrayed bed and set to work picking pillows and assorted clothes off the floor. The conversation played over and over in his head, but he still didn't know what to make of it - there was too much to take in. Draco had confessed to invading his dreams, but he hadn't explained why. Although he did hint that he just couldn't stay away, put in that helpful little voice that lived at the back of Harry's head. Then there was all that nonsense about a plot to abduct him. Harry was sure that if that were true, Dumbledore would have told him. But it wouldn't be the first time Dumbledore kept something important from you, 'for your own good', said the little voice.

He sat down impatiently. On balance, he would sooner trust Dumbledore than Malfoy. But his thoughts kept returning to a conversation from a dream, in which Malfoy had openly condemned Voldemort and everything he stood for, before revealing the depth of his feelings for Harry...

His head was starting to hurt with the effort of trying to understand. He got up and changed into his Quidditch robes. His original plan of working off some excess energy on the Quidditch pitch seemed more appealing than ever.

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Draco returned to his dorm in a state of emotional devastation. If ever he had toyed with the idea of owning up to Harry about the Somnio Salvus potion, that wasn't the way he had wanted the conversation to go. There had been far too many harsh words and flying pillows for his liking.

He couldn't help feeling that he had made matters worse. Harry was determined to go to Hogsmeade now, just to spite him. Perhaps he wouldn't have gone, if he hadn't said anything.

Draco sprawled face down on his bed with a groan of frustration. Why, oh why didn't I pour that stupid potion away? He might have believed me if he wasn't already furious with me about that...

He buried his face in his pillow and swore softly into it, several times. Then he turned onto his back and sighed deeply. He really was furious. He must hate me for what I did...and there I was beginning to think he liked it...

A picture of an enraged Harry, brandishing his wand like a dagger, appeared in Draco's memory. There had been a moment when he thought he saw a hurt expression flash across Harry's face. It had been right after the explosive rage, and just before the quietly suppressed fury. A tiny flicker of hope softened the guilt that stabbed viciously at Draco's heart. If Harry feels even a little bit hurt or sad about what had happened, then maybe that's a sign that he did want me in his dreams...for a while at least...

Draco allowed himself to be comforted by the thought. Then he jumped up and rummaged in his trunk for his cloak. He still had three hours. There had to be something else he could do to save Harry. He didn't share Dumbledore's optimism that the Aurors in Hogsmeade would be able to stop the abduction, and he certainly didn't like the idea of Harry being used as some kind of live bait in order to catch Voldemort.

It's not as if Voldemort would carry out the abduction himself anyway,thought Draco angrily. It'll be one of his minions...He suppressed the thought that the category included his father, and busied himself with tying his shoelaces. Then he firmly thrust his wand into his belt and swept out, heading for the main gates.

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After an hour of careering madly around the Quidditch pitch, Harry felt a lot calmer. He ambled back to the Castle, looking forward to a leisurely soak in the bath. His anger with Malfoy had abated somewhat, but he still couldn't get the morning's conversation out of his mind. He was mystified as to the Slytherin's true agenda, but at least he could think about things clearly now, without wanting to throw furniture.