A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Thirty-Two

Draco finds himself in the Infirmary.

When he looks around, he's confused as to how he got there, but in the back of his mind, he really doesn't care.

He's already here.

So he looks around, for a specific head of hair, and his eyes land on an empty bed, the sheets tossed aside.

He walks over to it, lays his palm down on the sheets. They're cold.

Harry's been gone for a while, now. But...he should still be resting. He's still recovering.

Draco feels mechanical, as he turns and heads out the doors again, like he is not really in control of his body.

He looks around in a daze, and he realizes he's in front of the Astronomy Tower entrance. The climb feels short, but Draco knows how many steps there are on the staircase so he honestly doesn't know what is going on.

Until he sees Harry Potter standing at the top, leaning on the rail and looking up at the stars.

"Should've known you would find me."

Draco jumps, startled, and feels the haze in his mind clear up. He reaches up to rub his forehead. "What?"

"I said I should have known you would find me," Harry says, turning to spare him an amused glance. "You seem to, nowadays. How the tables have turned."

"What are you doing here? Should you not be resting?"

"I felt like taking a walk."

"While still in recovery?"

"I don't feel that bad anymore," Harry shrugs. "Plus, it was getting kind of lonely."

Draco curses himself for forgetting to tell Ron and Hermione that Harry was awake.

"And it seems like every time you leave, I get tired all of a sudden."

The Slytherin narrows his eyes at him. "Are you implying?"

"Not at all," Harry says nonchalantly. "I'm just stating an observation. What are you doing here?"

"I am," Draco thinks. What is he doing? Why is he here? "Checking on you."

"How did you find me?"

"I...am not sure. I was just...walking."

"So you weren't looking for me?"

"No."

Harry hums, nodding. Draco notices he's still wearing his hospital gown.

"Are you not cold? The temperature is below freezing, Potter."

"Harry," he grins. "And no, not really. Don't really feel much of anything anymore."

And Draco wants to say neither do I, but that would be a lie. Because he has felt something.

He felt that kiss.

That damned kiss.

"What are you doing," he asks instead, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, folding his arms over his chest and walking closer. The air is colder up here.

"Just thinking."

"What are you thinking about?"

"You, mostly."

"What," Draco splutters. "What did you say?"

"School," Harry gives him a weird look. "I said school, mostly."