Blackbird

9 | To Arise

Harry woke slowly the next morning, his entire body trembling and unbearably sore. He groaned, pressing a fist to his forehead where a pounding headache was already starting.

He was dressed in soft sweatpants and a t-shirt, which was strange, because he knew he'd never have been able to manage that on his own. Or even climb into his bed, for that matter.

Harry groaned again and turned over, trying to recall the events of the previous night. The pain was distracting, making it difficult to think clearly. He ached right down to his bones; every muscle had been torn, every bone broken, and then all of it roughly put back together while he slept.

He gave up and curled onto his side in the fetal position, a pitiful whimper escaping his lips without permission.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay." Gentle fingers brushed his hair out of his face.

Harry slowly opened his eyes to meet Draco's concerned gaze.

"You shouldn't be here," he rasped.

"Why not?"

"I could have hurt you. I could have, oh fuck Draco, I could have turned you. You shouldn't be here." Harry turned his face into his pillow, his stomach churning at the thought.

Draco smiled, stroking his cheek. "You didn't. You wouldn't. On Wolfsbane you're basically a giant puppy, did you know that?"

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I'm serious! You let me pet you, and scratch behind your ears, and after I healed your broken leg you slobbered all over my face. Come to think of it, I might like you better as a wolf."

"Shut up." Harry laughed weakly, "Wait, my broken...? Oh, right. I broke my wrist yesterday."

"What happened? I thought you were staying at Wolf's Hollow last night?"

"I found out that I was the only one on Wolfsbane. Apparently that's upsetting to other werewolves after they transform, so I decided it would be better if I came home this month."

"And the broken wrist?"

"I, er, fell down the stairs."

"...Why?"

Harry hesitated, wondering, on a scale of one to ten, just how murderous Draco would be when he told him what had happened after he'd left Wolf's Hollow the day before.

As it turned out, the answer was a solid eleven. His grey eyes flashed furiously and he leapt out of the bed, determined to go end the two werewolves for their attempted seductions right that very second. Harry caught his wrist.

"Don't leave. Please. It's fine. It was just the full moon making them crazy. They'll be embarrassed when I go back tomorrow."

Draco sneered. "Well, as long as they'll be embarrassed tomorrow, then sure, it's completely fine. You know what? While we're at it, let's just let every single werewolf in Europe throw themselves at you. No problem. It's just the full moon."

Harry tugged on his arm. "Get back here, please."

Draco softened when he looked into Harry's face, the physical pain he was still feeling written across his features. With a sigh, he slid back under the covers, pulling them up over both of them.

"Are they going to do that every month?"

"I hope not," Harry whispered, sliding closer and burying his face in Draco's shirt. "It was awful. I'm yours, Draco. You know that, right? No one else's."