Waking Moments (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Four

   Harry wakes.

For once, it's not his nightmares that have pulled him from his sleep, but he still takes a moment to orient himself in Draco's room. He'd snuck in there after the others had finally gone to bed, but this was the first time he'd not gone back to his own room, or Draco to his. They are trying to be discreet, and that means not getting caught leaving the other's bedroom in the morning. He can't say he's disappointed though to have snuggled up next to him post-coitus and drifted off; somehow that's more intimate than the hours he's so far dedicated to memorising every inch of Draco's body (and he's been a very good student).

As a hand thumps into his stomach, he's pulled back into the here and now. He realises what woke him was not his own nightmares, but Draco's. He's whimpering in his sleep, limbs twitching, mouth grimacing as whatever is happening in his mind torments him.

"Shh," Harry says urgently, pulling him into a tight hug and rocking him back and forth. "Hey, hey, Draco, it's okay, it's just a dream. I'm with you, you're okay."

Gradually, Draco surfaces from his fitful sleep, panting and grabbing onto Harry's arms. "Bad dream," he grunts.

Harry strokes back some of the blond hair that has stuck to his head. "I know, it's over now."

Draco takes a while to calm, but Harry keeps hugging him, planting little kisses on his neck and jaw, massaging his shoulders. He lets Draco unravel the dream on his own, guessing if he wants to talk about it he will, but if he's like Harry, he probably doesn't.

"You stayed," Draco says after a while.

Harry nuzzles into the back of his neck. "Sorry," he says. "Fell asleep. I can go in a minute."

Draco's grip squeezes down with a jolt on Harry's arms. "No," he rasps. "Don't go."

Harry's not sure he's thought this through. "I'll stay a little longer," he assures. "But you don't want anyone to see me leaving here, do you?"

Draco lifts Harry's hand and kisses the back of it. "Don't give a fuck," he says. He's still sleepy, unable to quite rip himself from the nightmare. "Dreamed you died again, can't – I won't-" He's tearful and Harry agrees in that moment he gives no fucks either.

"Shh," he soothes, turning Draco around to face him to he can hold his face and kiss his lips. "I'm right here, I'm fine, I'm not going anywhere and I'm certainly not dying."

Draco nods, his breathes shaking, but he manages a weak smile. "You can go in a bit if you want," he says after a while. "I understand if you don't want to be seen with me."

"Shut up," Harry snaps, catching his mouth for a fervent kiss. "I don't want to complicate things, but I think we both know I'm not going anywhere, so they'll have to get used to it eventually. If they see me, they see me. If they don't..." he smiles shyly. "Maybe we could sit together for lunch tomorrow?" The Eighth Years had their own table, but so far the Slytherins and the Gryffindors had stubbornly stayed either ends of it. He appreciates if Draco's not ready to take that step, but to his delight he smiles back and runs his fingers through Harry's hair.

"It's a date," he says warmly.