In Evidence Of Magical Theory

Chapter 7 ~ Powerful Magic

Harry woke up alone, groaning at the sunlight pouring in. He waved his wand frantically to shut the bed hangings and used all of his energy to nudge the link open, sending plaintive waves of hideousness through it.

A hand shot through the curtains to offer him a fizzling potion. Harry took it gratefully, swallowing all of it in three gulps. He felt a sudden heave of nausea and another vicious throb in his head before the feeling subsided.

"Thanks," Harry rasped out, relieved. "It's safe to come in, I'm not going to sick up on you. Although you probably need to come to terms with seeing that if you're really going to go into Healer training next year."

"Shut it." Draco peeked in carefully, then drew the curtains back open and sat down on the bed. "Serves you right, anyway for drinking too much."

"I had less than Ron!" Harry said. Draco snorted.

"Yes, and everyone at the party saw how that turned out. Asking Granger to marry him while falling over and nearly wetting himself. I'm sure that's going over well this morning." Draco said, looking rather pleased with the thought.

"Why are you out of bed?" Harry asked. Draco was generally a deeper sleeper than he was, and since McGonagall had allowed them to re-room together back in the guest quarters, it was usually Harry who had to nag Draco out of bed.

He was still a little astonished that McGonagall had gone along with it. Harry had argued that neither of them would receive any privacy while sharing dorms - particularly after they had given a brief interview to the Quibbler about the bonding accident and their resultant relationship. People had started getting creative about sending mail through her wards, mostly because everyone knew Harry and Draco's Houses. It had taken a couple of weeks consideration but McGonagall had finally given in. Eyeing him narrowly, she'd agreed that it might be best if people outside Hogwarts didn't know where their living quarters. Draco claimed she'd given in out of impressed admiration for Harry's sheer cheek at even asking.

But McGonagall, being McGonagall, had then instituted a new rule for every returning, of-age, eighth year, allowing them to move into rooms in the guest quarters if they so chose. It was a chance that most of the remaining eighth years had leapt at. So Harry and Draco's quiet refuge of the guest quarters had given way to two dozen other students, many coupled. This led to noise and more nosiness than Harry was generally okay with, as intrusions seemed to happen in their quarters frequently when he or Draco were about to be otherwise occupied.

On the plus side, it led to that much-lauded interhouse unity that McGonagall had gone on about during the beginning of the year. There was a party nearly weekend in someone's room, aided by plenty of elf-wine or Firewhiskey. People were getting along great. It may have had something to do with The Chosen One living with a Slytherin, Harry conceded to himself, but whatever worked.

Harry stretched, nudging Draco's thigh with his foot as Draco perched on the side of the mattress. Draco's eyes had darkened, moving over him as the sheet slid down to expose more of Harry's body, and Harry felt a little smug.

"Sorry," Draco said, seeming to come back to himself. He addressed Harry's question. "Packing. I'm leaving in an hour."

"Right." Harry scowled a little. "Why are you packing? You'll only be gone for three days."

He and Draco had both stayed at Hogwarts for the better part of winter holidays, as had a lot of students. Harry had plans at the Burrow for Christmas Eve, which Draco had promised to join him for, and Christmas morning. Christmas dinner would be spent at Malfoy Manor with Draco and his mother, who had taken to telling every publication that asked how delighted she was that Harry had such fine taste in men, and how their relationship was a testament to Draco's character.