In Chains (Drarry)

Chapter 5

Draco's POV

I did my best to be gentle. If I was acting like my old self, I wouldn't have been as gentle. His breathing was a bit shallow, he must be exhausted. I began leading him to my old bedroom, he had a questioning look on his face but he didn't say anything. I sat him down on the edge of my bed and continued to bandage him.

"What?" he asked. I raised my eyebrows at him, questioningly, but continued. "Why'd you bring me in here?" I sighed, he's still the dumb prat I've hated for the past few years. "You're exhausted. I thought you might want to sit down, comfily, while I finished up. You could sleep, afterwards." He nodded. I finished his arms and face, noticing a cut that traveled from his collarbone into his shirt.

I began to lift his shirt, earning a loud protest from the brunette. "What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?!" he roughly pulled his shirt out of my hands. I rolled my eyes and pointed to his cut. I smiled to myself, I can point now. How I've missed pointing. He looked at his chest. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'Oh.' What'd you think I was doing, Potter?" I spat, venomously. It was lacking the amount of hate that it used to, though. I could've sworn that he blushed, but I ignored it and went back to pulling his shirt off. Oh, Merlin's beard, I wish I had a body like that! I mentally kicked myself, I knew I was attractive. Marveling at Potter's body was disgusting. Potter's body!

I disinfected the long cut, it wasn't that deep, and wrapped the gauze around it. When he looked up at me, expectantly, I nodded my head and he smiled, falling back onto the bed. He almost instantly fell asleep, shirtless. I ran my fingers through my untamed hair and smiled. I missed being able to do that, I looked down at my hands (which I hadn't seen in forever) and noticed my disgusting nails. I frowned and headed to the bathroom, even though I was exhausted.

When I got to the bathroom I almost vomited at the image in the mirror. I obviously looked tired, the dark circles around my eyes told me that, but I looked unhealthy. I rarely ate, the house elves were horrible at putting food in my mouth, probably out of fear towards me and the fact that I only got leftovers from a house full of hungry men. I was sickly skinny, you could see my bones. My skin was pale, like it always has been, but worse. There were bandages all over my body. But, the worst thing was...my hair. My beloved, silky locks of blonde hair was knotted and crusty, sticky and gross. It stuck to my forehead and jutted out in all directions. I looked like a mad man.

I cleaned out my nails and trimmed them. I leaned my head in the shower and washed it, careful to not get my bandages wet. I changed my clothes and brushed my teeth. I went back through the house, carefully. I never knew if anyone might still be here, although they all are most likely fleeing because of Voldemort's death. I went down to the kitchen and made myself something. I decided to make something for the Golden Boy upstairs, for a small thanks. I know that giving him a meal is hardly a "Thank You for Saving My Life, I Owe You Everything" thing, but it was the absolute least I could do.

When I made my food, I headed back to my room, a sliver tray in hand. When I got back, Harry-scratch that- Potter had shifted and was now curled under the blankets, lightly snoring. I set the tray on the bedside table, suddenly feeling exhausted. I watched as the brunette turned over, now on the far left side of the bed. I decided that it wouldn't be too weird if I slept on the far right for a while, I would hopefully wake up before he did.

I stretched, yawning, and let myself under the covers. I had missed this. Being able to move around normally and sleep on a bed with covers. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Harry's POV

As I slowly woke up, I felt a comfy warmth in my side. I snuggled closer to it, not thinking anything of it until I felt it snuggle back. I snapped my eyes open, taking in my surroundings. I had forgotten where I was, asleep in Draco Malfoy's bed. I turned to the source of the warmth, gasping loudly at the form that lay there. I had slept with Draco Malfoy. I knew it wasn't what it sounded like, but it still was what it was.

I stared at him for a while, noticing that he seemed to clean up a little. His hair looked a lot better, making me want to reach out and stroke it. After another minute of staring, I gave in and reached out a hand to touch his hair. It was surprisingly softer than I thought it would be, and I thought it would be pretty soft. I had never felt something this soft. I found myself running my fingers through his hair several times. No wonder he constantly did that.

I stared at the pale blonde locks that fell perfectly into place. I then turned my gaze to the rest of him. He had changed, now dressed in a black wife-beater and shorts. His long, pale, hairless legs attracted my attention. I then noticed that the blanket had fallen to the floor, but I didn't really care. He had more scratches, more like desperate claw marks, up and down his legs. I should bandage those, but it'd be kind of weird if he woke up with me touching all over his legs.

Once again, I really wanted to know what happened. I didn't want to make assumptions, but it looked like he had been chained there for a long time and some sexual things (consented to or not) had happened while he was there. He looked extremely underfed and tired. I felt something in my heart. For once, I didn't seem to associate his name with hate or anger, I was just concerned and happy that I could've helped him out of that.

I stroked his head again, leaning closer. He shivered, so I brought the blanket back up. He cuddled up close to me, adorable, and I wrapped my arms around him and dozed back off to sleep. I didn't even notice the silver tray of food by the bed.