𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

The Second Day

The next morning, Harry awoke to total silence.

Which was unnerving….because, as he replayed the events of the prior evening in his mind, a lot had been vocalized. The shift to complete quiet sent his nerves flaring, and he craned his neck uncomfortably to see if Malfoy was even still there.

Warmth spread from his stomach outward as he took in the sight of Malfoy’s tousled appearance. His normally sleek blond hair was spiked at outrageous angles, his face buried in a pillow, arms and legs completely akimbo. Harry let himself a moment of aesthetic appreciation for Malfoy’s sleeping form; while he was clearly stretched out over the dominant portion of Harry’s bed, his slim hips and defined shoulder blades made for some quick forgiveness. Harry let out a breath and relaxed, reminding himself that Malfoy’s nighttime confessions were not forced or counterfeit. Things had progressed so naturally, even over the course of one day…to think, only 24 hours ago he had been afraid of Malfoy torturing him through Auror training….

Harry sat bolt upright in bed. Training.

To his left, Malfoy was on his feet in seconds, eyes darting around the room, shoulders braced for impact.

“What?” Malfoy demanded, looking from Harry to the door to the walls with almost systematic calculation. He seemed to be calming slowly as he took in everything in the small bedroom, clearly deciding that the majority of its contents were inanimate, and therefore, most likely unthreatening.

“What time is it?” Harry said, looking to the small bedside table where his alarm clock was situated. Was being the operative word, for it was certainly not situated there presently. “Wha- where is my clock?”

He looked back up at Malfoy, who still seemed generally wary of the room and stood as if he was tensed for another sharp shock. This effect was basically ruined by the way Malfoy was also being naked in a very engrossing fashion. Malfoy then suddenly looked down at the ground and made a small indecipherable noise.

“I believe we may need to find alternative methods of gauging the time.” Malfoy was still looking at the ground. Momentarily distracted from his mental listing of Ways in Which Draco has A Perfect Body, Harry leaned over the expanse of his bed to see what was so interesting.

There, on the floor next to his bed, were the remainders of Harry’s alarm clock. Clearly shattered, it looked as if it had been rather forcibly removed from its perch on the night table.

“What happened?! Did you do that?” Harry inquired, looking up at Malfoy for an explaination.

“Well it started making very loud noises at a very early hour! Noises that should be punishable by law! And I was asleep while it was doing it!”

“So you decided the best method of stopping it was an assisted suicide leap off the table?” Harry couldn’t decide if he was angry or not. Looking up into Malfoy’s face, which had been lit by the small amount of sun peeking through the curtains, he decided the clock was most likely replaceable.

The look of mingled apology and outrage on Malfoy’s face was not.

“Well, honestly, Potter, how can you start your mornings like that? No wonder you always look a disgrace, it clearly has something to do with your waking rituals.” Bypassing Malfoy’s slightly abusive comment, Harry returned to the reason he had woken so suddenly.

Harry looked around the room for his clothes, most of which had been tossed haphazardly around in the haze of sexual aggression…he felt his cheeks burn slightly as he remembered a particular trick that Malfoy could do involving his teeth and Harry’s still-buttoned jeans…

He finally spotted his watch on the ground. He leapt out of bed and bent down to confirm his worst suspicions.

“We are officially two hours late for our second day of Auror training.”