A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Thirty-Six

Draco blinks his eyes open, groaning at the bright light that blinds him instantly. He growls at his open curtains, frustrated that he forgot to close them last night for this specific reason.

And then he remembers he did close them last night. He always does.

He sits up, alarmed. Draco doesn't even remember falling asleep, he just knows he laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours after Hermione left.

The bed sheets are strewn over the rug, is the first thing he sees. He also notices his silken pajama top tossed carelessly over the corner of the bed and frowns.

When Draco looks down to inspect his seemingly naked torso, he screams in surprise at finding a tan arm thrown over his waist.

That is what wakes Harry.

And when Harry jumps up in shock, Draco screams again. And when they notice each other, they scream together.

And then Draco, very unceremoniously, shoves Harry off the bed.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing in my chambers, Potter!"

"Me?" Harry jumps up on the defense, ignoring the chill that hits his body like a train. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my bed!"

"This is my bed!"

"No, it's mine!"

"Potter," Draco growls. "You are in the West Wing, I assure you. Now, find your garments and make yourself modest, brute!"

Harry opens his mouth to argue back, but at the last second he looks down to prove to Draco he's very much dressed when he notices he is very much nude.

He yelps and covers his bits, squatting behind the bed so he can keep at least some of his dignity. "What the hell," he hisses to himself.

"Now, will you so kindly explain to me what you are doing in my chambers, in the nude?"

"I..." Harry furrows his brows in complete concentration before he realizes he's clueless. "I...don't know."

"You do not know why you are in my room? How about why you are unclothed?"

Harry's nostrils flare. "You're naked, too!"

Draco's eyes widen because he's right. He can feel the weight of his duvet on his bare thighs. "That is inconsequential. I am in my abode. Explain yourself!"

"Malfoy, I don't know," Harry stresses.

"Well, I advise you to find an excuse because this is preposterous! I demand..."

The way Draco's eyes roll back makes Harry's eyes widen. His body convulses and he tilts sideways, falling off the bed. Harry gasps and jumps for him, but he doesn't reach him in time and just watches Draco's twitching body slide off the bed, tangled in the sheets. "Draco!"

He pushes off, sliding down the bed with him and unravels the sheets from around the Slytherin, moving his hand to put him on his side.

As soon as his hand touches his skin, however, Draco stops shaking and gasps, and Harry feels his mind shut down and instinct take over.

His primal senses push forward and his eyes glint red, and when he looks down to Draco he sees that his eyes are glowing silver. He reaches under the backs of Draco's knees and lifts him, turns to the bed and places him on it.

Harry's movements are mechanical, as if he knows what he's supposed to do and has done it many times. He climbs into the bed over Draco, suspends himself with his hands on each side of the blond head and with the flick of a finger, the duvet is thrown over them.