Confisio Suprema

The last place in the world you want to wake up

It was already afternoon when Harry finally opened his eyes. The place where he woke up was naturally unfamiliar to him. He unthinkingly looked for glasses on the bedside table, put them on his eyes and looked around. The room was pleasantly dark, but he noticed the green curtains with silver trim. The bedlinen he slept in were of the same colour.

What does this mean? He tried to remember last night. The last clear memory was Hogsmeade. Malfoy! He put two and two together. The idea of completely losing control of himself in front of Malfoy was humiliating. He tried to concentrate. Okay, Harry, you idiot, think. First, figure out where your wand is, then get out of here as fast as possible. Okay. The wand is on the table. Harry gave it an incredulous look as if he expected Draco to have damaged it purposely. He tried a few simple spells like Lumos and Tempus to find out if the wand worked.

What, it's so late already? He reluctantly stood up. He preferred not even to count where he was in pain. The head, all the newly torn scars, the destroyed stomach... but nothing to indicate that he and Malfoy... no! How could such a thing even occur to him? He might use the Cruciatus on him, but he wouldn't soil himself with something like that. Harry noticed the mirror and looked into it. I look awful; just let the slick idiot enjoy it. Although he doesn't wear slicked-back hair anymore... But Harry noticed something else - his wounds were treated. He didn't remember dealing with them in any way. Malfoy? Why would he care about him? Harry would have preferred to slip out without saying goodbye, but he felt he couldn't. He walked out of the bedroom, and just across the hall, he saw Draco sitting in a chair reading some potions magazine. Bighead.

"Good morning, Harry." Not even a hint of mockery, but Harry heard it there nonetheless.

"Good morning, Malfoy."

"My name is Draco."

"Um, Draco, thanks for letting me sleep here, but now show me how to get from here."

"Would it kill you to have coffee with me?"

Harry smirked. "Maybe so; who knows what you'll put in my coffee."

It sounded so unlikely that they both burst out laughing. The ice was broken, and Harry was surprised to find himself sitting across from Malfoy in a green armchair, sipping a delicious coffee.

Moreover, he bravely drank all the potions the potion master gave him – against hangover and pain and a potion to speed up wound healing.

"Your wounds need some more treatment," Draco suggested. "If you don't mind, I will take care of it."

Harry swallowed. "No, that won't be necessary."

"As you wish, Harry. I don't bite, really."

Harry had difficulty getting used to Malfoy calling him by his first name.

"I know you were in the action with aurors; they wrote about it in the Prophet."

Harry nodded. He still felt uneasy at every show of appreciation.

"You're really good."

"Don't exaggerate, Draco."

"And I'm good at potions. You should take advantage of it and get yourself treated."

"Then I'm begging you, do it quickly, so I'm done with it."

Harry removed his shirt and allowed Malfoy to apply cooling salve to all the wounds. He lay on his back with his eyes closed, and Draco gently massaged the salve into all the countless scratches on his chest. It was pleasant, and Harry felt goosebumps go up with the pleasure. Draco ran his hand over his nipple—it was hard to tell if it was on purpose—and Harry felt his own body react, making him bite his lip so hard that blood spurted out. Draco didn't want to put him in an awkward situation; it would only make things worse, and he might never get another chance to meet Potter.

"It's done," he smiled, and Harry pulled his shirt on in relief.

"Would you like something to eat?"

Harry only now realised that he had only eaten that French chocolate bar yesterday.

"Anything." After he survived the treatment, a snack would be the least of it.

He was startled to see Draco talking to the house elf.

"Sally, would you be so kind as to make us a snack? As you can see, I have a guest here. Please prepare for him what he asks of you."

"Hermione would be happy for you," he chuckled. "I'll have what Mr Malfoy likes best."

Well, that wasn't the best idea, Harry thought as he finished his somewhat oversweetened semolina porridge.

After his snack, he finally decided to leave.

"I'll write to you," Draco promised. "Do you have Liber Facialis?"

"Aurors are not allowed to use social media."

"Then I'll send an owl. I think we could meet again sometime, what do you say?'

"Maybe I'd better start all over," Harry suggested. He would like to erase yesterday.

"Me too," Draco said, but it had a completely different meaning to him. He longed to go back to his first year at Hogwarts and do everything, absolutely everything differently.

He handed Harry a gift bag in Slytherin colours containing every potion he could possibly need.

"Take care of yourself."

Harry couldn't help it and lifted the corners of his mouth into a cautious smile.