tick-tock | a drarry tale

VIII.

Harry slipped out from under his cloak as he was nearing the Gryffindor common room. He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady, and then made his way inside.

Ron, Hermione, and a few other Gryffindors were near the fire place, playing a game of Wizard Chess.

"Where were you?" Ginny asked as Harry made his way to the stairs.

He glanced over at her, seeing that they all were staring back at him.

"Library," Harry replied, as if it was obvious.

"No, you weren't," Ginny replied, glancing over at Dean.

Dean's eyes widened and he busied himself by looking over at the chess board. Harry frowned, a hundred thoughts flooding through his mind.

Did Dean see us?

"Ginny, leave him alone," Ron snapped at his sister.

Harry, now annoyed, glared at her, and then made his way upstairs.

Why were they all so nosy?

Dean couldn't have seen them, they made sure no one was around. Harry grabbed his underwear and his pajamas, and then made his way to the bath.

He shut the door quietly behind him, undressed, and then turned on the shower. He ran a hand through his hair, and glanced at himself in the mirror.

What are you doing, Harry? he thought, with Malfoy. It's not right.

Harry frowned. Was he having second thoughts?

Steam started to fill the small space, and Harry made his way under the water. The hot droplets relaxed his stiff muscles and he sighed.

What was he doing? Really?

It was strange. Never in a million years would the three-month-ago Harry believe that he just went on a date with Malfoy... Draco...

Harry huffed and grabbed his shampoo. He started to scrub his head, contemplating what he should do. Draco asked him out, so either Draco was playing a sick joke or he actually liked Harry.

When did it even start? How? Draco, of all people, falling for him?

Harry closed his eyes as the shampoo ran down his face. If they continue, well, whatever they're doing, people will eventually find out. And word spreads fast around Hogwarts, so his friends would be destined to find out about his little fling.

Harry sighed heavily and turned off the faucet, wanting to go to bed. He grabbed his towel, which was hanging on the wall, and threw it over his head.

He dried off quickly, changed, and then made his way into the dormitory. It was still empty. Harry threw his robes in the "dirty" hamper, watching it vanish as it went to be cleaned by the elves.

He ignored the laughs that erupted from down below and slipped into his bed. He waved his wand, causing the lamps to dim, took off his glasses, and then laid his head back. His head started pumping, and his forehead alarmingly started to heat up.

No, no, no... not now...

Harry groaned, placing a hand to his scar. The prickling started to intensify, and Harry's breathing became rapid.

"Ah!" he shouted, throwing his head back into his pillow.

It hurt to keep his eyes open, and he felt his body getting sweaty. He sat up, his head still prickling, slipped on his clean robes over his pajamas, grabbed his wand, and then finally put on his glasses.