Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (A Drarry Fanfic)

Chapter 4

"Goyle?" Draco said from his squishy armchair. It was late and they were playing chess in the hospital wing. The rain was drizzling all around Draco, but it was bearable. He could have gone back to the Tower, but avoiding his classmates — and Potter — seemed like a better idea. He suspected the cloud was likely to react to Potter's presence in a way that would make his classmates overly suspicious. The mere memory of Potter's kiss softened the rain.

"Yes?" Goyle looked up from the chessboard.

"Did you —" Draco cleared his throat. He wasn't completely sure he wanted to ask this question, but he had to know whether he was going crazy or not. "Have you ever seen a white peacock in the Hogwarts castle?"

Coyle cocked his head. "You mean Grumpy?"

"Er, sorry?"

"Grumpy," Goyle repeated impatiently. "Ernie's peacock." He frowned. "Oh right. You've been here the whole time. I forgot. Ernie found it wandering around the castle yesterday morning. He brought it back to the common room and he and Millie had been cooing at it ever since." Goyle grimaced. Draco joined him. It must have been the same peacock Draco had accidentally Conjured. Poor thing, captured by a Hufflepuff.

"Potter's not happy about it," Goyle went on. "It keeps climbing onto his favourite armchair and pecks him till Potter sits somewhere else."

Definitely the same peacock.

"Am I winning?" Goyle asked hopefully.

Draco looked at the board sadly. He had been trying to let Goyle win, just to keep him interested, but that proved to be harder than expected. He shook his head.

Goyle sighed. "I have to go anyway."

"Yes, you do, Mr Goyle." Madam Pomfrey strode into the hospital wing. "It's well past curfew."

Goyle yawned and stood up. "See you at Transfiguration tomorrow?"

Draco nodded. He planned to attend his classes, though he thought he might skip History of Magic just because he could. He wondered if he would need Potter to kiss him again. If the cloud remained relatively peaceful, there would be no need to ask him.

"No, no more visitors!" Pomfrey said, still standing by the door. "It's much too late, Mr Potter."

Draco sprang to his feet at once. "But Potter brought me . . . homework!" He could see Potter standing outside in the hallway. There was nothing in his hands and he hadn't brought his bag with him. "I mean, he came to tell me what's for homework." Draco's excuse was doubtful and Pomfrey's expression confirmed it. "It's very important," Draco insisted. He saw Potter nod earnestly at Pomfrey.

"Oh very well." Pomfrey sighed. "I need you out of the way so I can make your bed. You have five minutes."

Draco all but ran outside. Goyle followed and then stopped to stare at Potter curiously. Fortunately, he left without asking anything when Draco said, "Good night, Greg."

Potter looked up at Draco's cloud. "You seem to be getting better." He sounded smug.

"It'll get worse soon," Draco lied shamelessly. "The cloud goes positively mad whenever I fall asleep."

"Oh." Potter looked worried. "I remember."

Draco quenched his guilt. Potter now thought the cloud tried to drown Draco every night the way it had on Saturday morning when Draco had drunk a vial of Calming Draught.

"Do you think I should . . .?" Potter's gaze fell on Draco's lips. The look in his eyes finished the question for him.

Draco's mouth went dry. "If you don't mind," he said curtly.

Potter didn't seem to mind at all and soon their tongues were intertwined, and Draco's fingers clutched Potter's hair. Potter felt so warm and solid, Draco dizzily wondered if Pomfrey would let him use Potter as a protective blanket instead. He was sure Potter would prove to be much more helpful.

"My word."

They split apart in an instant.

Potter coughed, not looking at Pomfrey who had appeared at the hospital wing's entrance.

"And that's how Hengist of Upper Barnton was defeated," Potter said. "We have to read up on those events for our History of Magic class tomorrow." Potter nodded to emphasise his point, still not looking at Pomfrey. "Well, good night, Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey." He fled.

Embarrassed though he was, Draco couldn't stop smiling. Potter was ridiculous. And, unlike Draco, he wasn't even in the History of Magic N.E.W.T. class.

Cheeks burning, Draco glanced at Pomfrey.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "I confess, I don't remember Gifford Ollerton using that particular tactic when he slew the giant. I rather thought he used an axe."

Draco bit his lip and looked away. Pomfrey took pity on him and made no further comments, though she did study Draco's white cloud with a frown on her face.