Blackbird

2 | In the Dead

Jenkins the hired house elf did indeed let him in, and Draco found himself following him up the familiar path through the house to Harry's bedroom.

"How is he?" Draco asked quietly.

"Master Harry is not being well, sir. He is not eating, even when Jenkins is bringing him all his favorite foods! He is sleeping all the day long in that dark, dark room. Jenkins is very worried, Master Draco."

"I'll try to help him."

"That is good, sir. Master Harry is a good master. He pays Jenkins very well, and tells him to take as many days off as he wants, and always speaks kindly to him, even though he is not being well. Jenkins would like him to get better very much."

Draco smiled when they reached the door to Harry's bedroom. "Thank you. I can go in alone."

The house elf nodded and Disapparated l with a pop.

Hesitantly, Draco turned the handle and pushed the door open. The dark green curtains had been drawn, and the fireplace was empty, making the room dark and ice-cold. He could make out Harry's sleeping form tucked under the covers of the large bed, an untouched tray of food on the bedside table. He was unusually still, and shivering slightly under the covers.

"Harry?"

Draco moved closer and saw the empty potion vial on the tray, the only item he appeared to have touched.

Draco shut his eyes tight. "Jenkins?"

The house elf appeared with another small popping noise. "Yes, sir?"

"What time did he take the Dreamless Sleep potion?"

"Master Harry is taking it after breakfast, sir. Around seven o'clock. It is being the only thing he wanted."

Draco counted the hours in his head. He should be waking up soon, then.

"Would you mind lighting a fire?"

"Of course, sir! Jenkins is happy to light a fire."

The elf set to work and soon the room was partially lit by a cozy fire and beginning to warm up a bit. Draco sat on the edge of the bed and gently trailing his fingers over Harry's face, then pushed them through his dark hair. His jaw was scruffier than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes were so purple they looked almost like bruises. Draco glanced around for Harry's glasses, but couldn't seem to find them anywhere.

It was only a few minutes before Harry began to stir.

"Draco."

Draco's hand stilled at the sound of his name. He had been staring into the fire, lost in thought, running his fingers through Harry's hair. He turned to look at him.

"Harry," Draco murmured, stroking his hair again.

The other man's face was curiously blank, his brilliant green eyes inscrutable.

"Why didn't you tell me, Harry?"

"Didn't think you'd be interested in fucking a werewolf, Drake. I'm afraid if you're feeling frisky I'm closed for business." He turned away, rolling onto his other side.

Draco glared at him. "That's not why I'm here, Harry, and you know it. I thought we were friends... I'm here as a friend."

"Great. Now go away."

"No."

"I'm not interested in your pity friendship, or whatever this is, Draco. I just want to be left alone."