SECRET ( Drarry fanfiction)

Chapter 39

Harry woke abruptly to chaos with a hangover. Hooting owls, Draco shouting, raging headache and a heaving stomach. He was positive this was how he was going to die.

"Potter! Wake the fuck up and help me!"

Harry took one look at Draco trying to deal with a couple dozen owls and pulled the duvet over his head. He knew what they meant. Luna had told him his article was supposed to be distributed to the public in the latest issue of The Quibbler that day.

"Winky!" Draco shouted.

Harry groaned, clutching his head. Draco ranted.

"Bloody owls . . . you're never drinking again . . . need twenty house-elves to keep up with your shit . . . if you weren't already dying, I'd kill you . . . better yet, kill Wood . . . it's only . . . Tempus . . . half six in the fucking morning . . . three and a half hours of sleep . . . bloody hero, my arse . . ."

In the middle of the running dialogue of complaints, Draco managed to order Winky to redirect the owls to the kitchen where the others could help relieve the owls of their burdens. He also ordered her to retrieve a hangover potion.

He dragged Harry into an upright position. Harry grimaced at the idea of putting anything in his stomach, even a potion that was supposed to help him.

"Drink it," Draco snarled.

Harry drank.

"I fucking hate you, you miserable bloody prat," Draco muttered.

Harry whimpered in agreement.

Draco exhaled heavily. "It'll take a few minutes to work, but it will calm your stomach and ease your headache," he said.

They sat there for long minutes in silence until Harry decided the pounding in his head had diminished enough for him to contemplate moving. They showered and dressed and Harry sat down on the end of the bed to wait for Draco to finish, without complaint.

When Draco came and stood before him, Harry looked up warily. "Still angry with me?" he asked.

Draco gave him a half-smile and shook his head. "I was just pissed off at being woke up by a bloody flood of owls," he said. "You all right?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, I reckon I'm well enough," he said. "I'm sorry for all this, though – last night and this morning."

Draco shrugged. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he said. His mouth formed into a sneer. "The only one who should be sorry this morning is Wood."

"So, you were around for that," Harry said, wincing.

"The bloody bastard was hitting on my boyfriend," Draco snarled. "Yes, I saw that. Took care of him, though," he said with malicious satisfaction.

"What? What the fuck did you do?" Harry asked in alarm.

"Obliviated the fucking bastard," Draco said without a shred of remorse.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed.

"Don't look at me like that," Draco snapped. "I didn't perform any Unforgivables, even though he fucking deserved it for touching you, let alone talking to you that way. He might have a couple of bruises he can't explain this morning, but the bastard wasn't going to walk away with any of those memories of you."

He paused, his gaze distant as he reflected on the memories of the night before. "I believe I have new respect for the matching pair," he added.

Harry gaped at him. "Fred and George helped you beat up and Obliviate Oliver?"