Scared Potter? (Drarry fanfiction)

Chapter 17 - Love the attention

I just have to say: Thank you all so much for the great support, and lovely comments! If you have any recommendations, questions, feedback or whatsoever, feel free to contact me or leave a comment. I'm so thrilled to have you all as my readers!

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"Motherfu..." Harry groaned as he managed to open his eyes. The room he was in was dark. His glasses were nowhere to be found, and the surface he'd been sleeping on was rock solid. Rubbing his eyes, he hoped to get a better view – perhaps he could find his glasses by touch. Something alive laid to his side, a dash of white jumped up as his eyes managed to adjust – but nothing was clear enough to identify. Once finding his glasses – located a couple of feet afar – he got up from the ground to scan the area. Funny, how he seemed to have forgotten about the way he fell asleep here, last night. His eyes got caught by the white blur laying afar from him, and after crouching down, he recognized the person immediately. Thinking for it to have been a dream, his heart skipped a beat – reality dropping in like a bomb. After creating a certain distance between his enemy, his memory rushed back like a train. It was like he'd been drunk of lust the other night. Blinded by hate by the deceit of his dearest friends, he sought for salvation. And Malfoy was there to give it to him. Malfoy remained sleeping – both of their cardigans spread over his body to keep him warm. Nothing happened that night, beside their make out sessions. The night continued with arguments, ignorance, and mocking comments – though none of them left. Remarkable. It made no sense.

Hangover by Draco's touch, he hobbled around – wondering what time it was; whether he missed breakfast, whether his friend were looking for him... whether anyone even cared. His expression changed by the thought of that. He could've known. The secrecy between Ron and Hermione grew stronger every year – their behaviour changing. The look in their eyes changing as they met. Harry wasn't sure whether he was able to call it jealousy, but he was clearly unhappy by the way they decided not to tell him – for he was still their dearest friend.

Grabbing his blouse and cardigan, he rushed himself towards the exit. Leaving Malfoy for "dead". He wished to see the looks on his fellow student's faces. If anyone had been celebrating his absence – Draco Malfoy clearly not being one of them – he was ready to cut it off now. Making his way towards his dorms – trying his best to stay unseen for as many as he could – he quickly changed to a new shirt, leaving his cardigan to rest on his bed. Malfoy's smell still lingered around him – and the cardigan wearing him would enlarge it. Dizzy by his scent, he wobbled towards the great hall – ready to meet his mates.

Though breakfast was about to come to an end, Harry knew he would be able to gobble at least some scrambled eggs – right before his class would start.

"Harry!" Hermione called as she rushed to embrace him. Harry gasped for breath, having great troubles to stand on his feet by her sudden attack. He mumbled something close to 'morning, and escaped from her arms after a brief pat against her back. "Where have you been? You are so in trouble!"

"So are you," Harry muttered under his breath – watching Ron stuffing his mouth, as usual. Ron barely noticed his presence, creating a heavy feeling within his guts.

"We've searched everywhere! It was Dumbledore easing our minds. Malfoy has been missing too, his father is going to kill him!"

Harry cocked his head. "How does he know?"

"Snape has his custody while he's at school. I bet he told him." Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me you have anything to do with that!"

"He's fine," Harry muttered as he took a seat, filling his plate with eggs, bread and whatnot. Ron gave him a nod, smiling with his mouth closed, and waved his hand.

"Had a rough night?"

Harry shrugged – unsure to open his mouth, surprised how Hermione seemed to have forgotten the way he busted them the other night.

"What will happen?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair that very moment, raising Harry's attention by a gesture. Harry cursed under his breath. His stomach needed at least a bit of content before he was ready to continue the day, and so he grabbed an apple – stuffing it in his pocket.

"Professor," Harry muttered - fumbling his hands together. The hall turned quiet, and every eye was set to him. Dumbledore raised his chin, looking down on him – almost judging – but his smile told him otherwise. He pinched Harry's shoulder, walking him to the side of the hall – if just to speak in small privacy, and give others the impression he would get punished.

"Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him, his voice soft and blessed by his wisdom. "We both know I'm not here to punish you, but I do wish to know where you've spend the night. We were most worried."

Harry looked back over his shoulder, his friend staring at him – tensed, afraid he would be send home for whatever the reason was. "The room of requirements, Professor. I though you would reckon."

Dumbledore nodded in silence, pinching his shoulder a second time, and raised to see the crowd. "I thought so," he replied airily. Without another word, he greeted him, and pointed Harry back to his spot. Nothing to worry about. Dumbledore was a wise man, but also rather unusual, and sometimes hard to understand...