do you like my new profile picture? i thought it was really cute i made it myself and only used the color palettes from the asexual and lesbian flags :)

also if people would stop stealing my stories without asking or credits I would be very grateful thank you having to message people and ask them to take it down only to be blocked and then have to report their book is really exhausting and I'd rather people just relied on their own creativity or used prompts I used, not copy my chapters and change only tiny parts to pretend it's theirs. i really don't want to have to report books, i'd so much rather people took them down of their own free will rather than being forced to and then yelling at me about it because believe it or not, that exact scenario has happened multiple times.

(edit 7/27/21- for reference, the following paragraph contains a name i used to use instead of nyx (georgia), but i'm not replacing the name bc it's relevant to the story)

also I would like to tell a funny story once someone copied one of my chapters and KEPT THE AUTHORS NOTE I HAD IN I'm crying laughing that was really funny to me that they didn't even take the time to cut that out if you're going to be a lying author as least put four seconds of effort in IT SAID MY NAME IN THE FUCKING AUTHORS NOTE IT HAD THE LOVE GEORGIA THING I PUT AT THE END OF MY NOTES I'm laughing so hard one of my beautiful readers commented on it and was like "you... literally stole this from _the_drarry_life_? this is Georgia's book?" and the author had the GALL, the absolute AUDACITY, to reply with "My name is georgia too, sweetie. Don't go blaming people for things before you check your facts." her NAME was in her BIO and it was NOT georgia this was so funny to me it was taken down so fast how can you be that bad of a liar i was laughing so hard i wasn't even upset about it because it was so goddamn funny to me

another funny story once someone copied one of my chapters to a T and then put an authors note at the beginning that said "it was two in the morning when I wrote this it's so cringe smh" and left another author's note at the end that said "don't judge me for this im tired and feeling uncreative" and first of all how dare you second of all it was also taken down in like two days because they didn't even bother to change the chapter name or any of the words like at all they even kept a typo i accidentally made in mine in

someone also copied my entire promises promises book once and first of all smh don't steal but also like??? that's easily my worst book? why would you want to pretend, of all of my books, that that one is yours?

lesson learned lie better kids and be your own creative self because otherwise nyx will call you out in front of her lovely readers

a side note, thank you to the people who have brought these books to my attention and comment on their books about it, I'm beyond grateful for you guys :)

this bitch is 7,438 words she long ;)

Draco frowned slightly, not willing to open his eyes. He could just sense that it was way too early to wake up, so why was he awake?

After another ten seconds of contemplating this, Draco opened his eyes, irritated and feeling a bit weird.

Potter was standing over him.

Draco jumped back violently, head banging off the headboard. He winced in barely-noticed pain as he stared at the boy.

"Potter! What in the name of fuck?"

"Sor-sorry," Potter stuttered out, eyes wide and panicked. A flush crossed his face. "I didn't mean to wake you, I was just checking that you were... um, alive."

"While I appreciated the sentiment, that's fucking stupid." It was too bloody early for this, fuck. It had to be one or two in the morning. The hell was Potter trying to do?

"Never mind," Harry muttered, moving to draw Draco's curtains back, but Draco launched forward and grabbed his hand.

"Bloody fuck, Potter, why were you just fucking staring at me?"

"I was seeing if you were breathing."

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be? Thought I'd fucking killed myself or something?"

"No." Harry looked more irritated now than anything, and Draco wished the embarrassed blush would come back, because he preferred Potter when he was stuttering and quiet and not arguing with him at some ungodly hour in the morning. "It was just a nightmare, and I overreacted. Good night."

And he stomped off to his own bed.

Bewildered and exhausted, Draco rolled over and promptly fell asleep.

**

By the time he woke up again, he had firmly convinced himself that it had been a weird-ass dream, and since Potter was returning to not speaking to him in any way despite them sharing a dorm room with ten other guys, he used that to back up the sentiment.

Despite this, he felt more tired than usual, which was ridiculous, because even if it wasn't a dream, he had only been awake for about a minute total.

Nonetheless, he was distracted and off-put for the rest of the day, which only served to irritate him further, because he knew Potter was the root of this problem, whether it had been a dream or not.

That night he spent twenty minutes uncomfortably twisting and turning until he finally fell asleep.

However, it felt like only minutes (although logically, it must have been a couple hours) before Draco's eyes were opening slowly again to see Potter staring at him.

No, not at him, per se. Not at his face. Potter's eyes were watching Draco's chest, the rise and fall indicating his breathing.

"Potter, you bloody fucking stalker, do I need to sleep in the dungeons again or are you going to leave me alone?" Draco hissed.

Potter jumped. "I'm sorry! I'm not trying to wake you up, I'm not even touching you!"

"Being a Death Eater and a Slytherin has given me the ability to awake to even the slightest disturbance," Draco replied dryly.

Potter frowned at that but didn't respond. 

"Are you gonna keep fucking staring at me? I'm clearly alive, you can go back to your bed, because you're not welcome in mine." Draco was far too irritated. If this became a common occurrence, he was going to test locking charms on his curtains.

Potter flushed again. "Sorry." He turned and pulled Draco's curtain shut, and Draco heard soft footsteps pad away.

Draco gaped after him. Did Potter just fucking apologize to him?

He dropped back onto his pillows, throwing one over his face.

What the fuck was going on?

**

"Maybe he keeps planning to kill you in your sleep and you keep waking up before he can," Pansy suggested casually.

Draco frowned. "Nah, he's all saintly and shit. He couldn't."

Pansy wiggled her eyebrows. "That's just a cover. Harry Potter, secret serial killer!" She spread her hands in the air, as if framing an invisible headline. "The Boy Who Lived To Kill! Claims his first victim, a sleeping poncy blonde who's far too attractive for his own good!"

Draco's laughter was interrupted by Potter sitting down, followed by Granger and Weasley. Draco scrunched up his nose irritably. Why was the Eighth Year table a thing?

"Whatcha guys talking about?" Potter asked, far too nicely, even having the audacity to smile at Pansy as he poured himself some juice.

"Your incessant habit of watching me sleep," Draco responded flatly before Pansy had a chance to speak. Granger and Weasley stopped and stared at Potter.

Potter's smile fell away, replaced with something a lot like exasperation. "I don't think it's a habit until I do it three times."

"Then don't make it a habit," was Draco's deadpan response before he turned away from Potter and struck up a new conversation with Blaise.

**

"I think it's a habit now," Draco said dryly as Potter stared at him yet a-fucking-gain. 

Potter snorted. "Maybe a bit."

"Well, break it. It's creeping me the fuck out, you fucking weirdo."

Potter only gave him a kicked puppy look. "Sorry. I know it bothers you."

"Then bloody stop!" Draco hissed loudly, shutting his curtain with much more force than was entirely necessary.

**

This time, Draco stayed up.

He was ready to fucking curse Potter the second that curtain opened. If he was going to have to bloody condition Potter to stop it, then he fucking would.

He waited for way too fucking long, and part of him wondered if it was really worth it, and another part wondered if Potter would even come, and another part told those parts to shut the fuck up.

But eventually, Draco heard something. He pulled his curtain away, just a touch, and looked out.

Potter was thrashing on his bed. Well, thrashing may not have been the best word, but he was rolling violently, face contorted in anger and fear, his body curling into a tiny ball before he gasped loudly and sat upright, breathing hard.

Draco watched in... well, he wasn't quite sure what emotion he was feeling, but he watched as Potter rubbed his eyes, taking shallow, gasping breaths before stumbling up and toward Draco's bed.

Draco let go of the curtain, sitting back slightly and waiting.

After another two seconds, Potter yanked the curtain open, his face an expression of terror and anticipation, and he froze when he saw Draco staring back at him, pointing his wand right at Potter's nose.

"Now tell me," Draco said quietly and clearly. "What the fuck that was."

Potter just stared at him, eyes wide and frightened, but he appeared to be calming down somewhat. Draco tried not to notice the fact that his hand was shaking as it held the curtain, and Draco sighed heavily when he realized he actually felt bad for the prat.

"Sit down before you pass out," he said in a resigned voice, lowering his wand and drawing his legs up, making room for Potter.

Potter continued to stare at him, but the expression was more of confusion than anything.

"I'm being nice, Potter. Sit the fuck down before I regret it," Draco bit. He was already starting to regret it. He should have just fallen asleep.

Slowly, Potter let go of the curtain and sat cross-legged at the very end of Draco's bed, leaving plenty of room between them. Draco sighed again and tugged his curtain closed, casting a quiet Lumos to illuminate the small space they were in.

It was only in this low light that Draco noticed the glittering tracks down both of Potter's cheeks, and his fingers itched to wipe the tears away, but he forced them to stay at his side.

"I don't know why it's you," Potter said hoarsely.

Draco's eyes snapped to meet Potter's. "Excuse me?"

"I don't-" Potter took a deep breath. "I get nightmares. You probably know that, everyone gets nightmares from the war."

Draco nodded. He had his own fair share of them, mostly consisting of the burn of the Mark, the cold feeling of the Manor when Voldemort was in it, the flaming Room of Requirement, and Granger's screaming when Bellatrix had sliced her arm open.

Potter took another deep breath, and there was a still silence for a few moments.

"Mine are of you."

Every muscle in Draco's body tensed. Sure, he had been an asshole to Potter for years, but really? More so than Voldemort or Bellatrix or even Lucius, Potter had nightmares of Draco?

"Not- not you doing anything bad," Potter said quickly when he saw Draco's expression. "It's not you trying to hurt me or anything. It's... you... getting hurt."

Draco only stared at him.

Potter shifted uncomfortably. "It's mostly the Room of Requirement, I have nightmares of not grabbing your hand in time or dropping you or missing every time I try. Sometimes it's the bathrooms, you bleeding out until there's nothing left. Sometimes it's Voldemort killing you when you left our side and walked over to join your parents. Sometimes it's Nagini tearing-"

"Enough!" Draco said, maybe a bit loud. He was horrified by the nature of Potter's nightmares, yes, but why on earth would Potter have nightmares about Draco dying?

Potter jumped, but fell silent. Draco felt a bit guilty for shouting, but he didn't particularly feel like learning new depths to Potter's fucked-up psyche, or new gruesome deaths for himself.

"So you have these dreams," Draco said slowly. "These nightmares, and you come to my bed to make sure I'm... still alive?"

"They feel real," Potter said quietly. "I need to know they're not."

Draco wanted to be mad at that, he did, but Potter looked so broken, so fucking exhausted, that all Draco could feel for him was sympathy.

"I don't know how to help you," he said quietly.

Potter just looked down at his bed. 

"Neither do I."

When Potter clambered off of Draco's bed and went back to his own, Draco was left feeling worse than before.

**

It had been two days since Potter had last come to his bed, and Draco was just hoping it was because the nightmares had stopped and he had found someone else to torment.

He was not so lucky.

It must have been the early hours of the morning; three, four maybe? Draco cast a Tempus.

Three forty-six. Draco grinned despite himself. Fuck Trelawney, maybe he was psychic.

Then he heard why he had woken up.

Soft crying met Draco's ears, and Draco knew exactly who it was before he swung his curtain open and looked over to Potter's bed.

Instead of thrashing in his sleep, Potter was sitting up, curled tightly in a ball, his sobs muffled by the fabric of his pajama pants that he had buried his head in. His shoulders were shaking, but other than that he wasn't moving too much.

"Potter, what's the matter with you now?" Draco hissed, trying to ignore the hint of concern in his voice.

Potter's head snapped up, his expression devastated.

"I'm sorry," he whispered across the room, his voice broken from the sobs echoing in his throat. "I didn't want to come to your bed because I know it irritates you, and now look, I've woken you up anyway, I'm sorry-"

"Potter!" Draco said, alarmed by how upset the boy was. Without thinking, Draco swung his legs off his bed, closing his curtain behind him and walking over to Potter's bed, sitting on the edge of it and meeting green eyes.

"I'm sorry," Potter choked out, and the sound of his voice cracking through tears broke Draco's heart.

"Merlin, don't be sorry, Potter, we all get nightmares."

"But mine are the only ones who irritate other people. I keep waking you up, I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry!" Draco didn't know how to handle this. Fuck, he wasn't a bloody therapist! "You don't have to be sorry, I'm not irritated."

Potter didn't acknowledge this, his head once again buried in his knees and his shoulders shaking.

"Oh, fuck," Draco whispered, moving so he was sitting next to Potter, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I'm alive, Potter, you can stop crying."

"It was bad," Potter whispered. "There was blood... everywhere."

Draco's stomach twisted, and his grip on Potter unconsciously tightened. "I'm alive, Potter."

"You won't be tomorrow night," Potter whispered. "Or the night after, or the night after that. You die every night, Draco, right in front of my eyes."

Draco ignored the feeling that spiked through him at the sound of his name on Potter's lips. "So wake me up. Wake me up every time, I don't care. If you need to know I'm alive, you can splash cold water on me to wake me up, for all I care."

Potter didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned his head sideways a bit, and Draco realized he was trying to lay on him.

Draco moved back a bit so he was resting more comfortably against the pillows, ignoring Potter's hurt expression that he had moved away. He grabbed Potter's arm, pulling him back with him, and pushed Potter's knees down so his legs were out in front of him instead of drawn up as though shielding him. He wrapped his arm back around Potter's shoulders and threaded his fingers through Potter's soft black hair, gently pushing his head so it could rest on Draco's shoulder as Potter had originally intended. Their bodies were pressed together, side by side, and Draco could feel the chill of Potter's skin. He wondered how long the boy had been up.

"Thank you, Draco," Potter whispered into the silence.

Draco remained quiet, unsure of exactly how to respond. He noticed Potter's curtains were still open, and attempted to push them closed with his foot. Potter laughed, a soft shaky laugh, and raised one hand, swiping it to the left. The curtains shut.

Draco shivered at the show of endless magic. Merlin, he was a lost cause. Turned on by something only one percent of the wizarding population could do? He was never going to find a boyfriend if his list of specificities kept growing.

"Are you cold?" Potter asked quietly, and Draco realized he had felt his shiver, and then noticed he was a bit cold.

"A bit."

"Do you mind me pulling the blankets over us?"

"If it warms me up from your frozen fucking body, then yes."

Potter laughed that hoarse laugh again, and Draco so desperately wanted to hear his real laugh, the one he had never directed at Draco, the one that was loud and bright and lit up his whole face.

Potter carefully lifted his legs, grabbing the blanket. Keeping his right hand in Potter's hair because for some reason he would rather die than remove it, Draco used his left hand to pull the blanket up. Finally, the warmth and softness of the blanket enveloped them, and Draco relaxed.

Potter was smiling, Draco could tell, even though he couldn't see Potter's face he just knew he was. It made Draco smile. He slowly started to run his fingers through Potter's hair, unable to stop himself.

After about ten minutes, Potter's breathing evened out and Draco realized he had fallen asleep.

Logically, he should have released Potter and gone to his own bed, but Draco's logic had flown out the window the second his feet had touched the ground with the intent to venture to Potter's bed, so instead Draco, for some fucking reason beyond his four a.m. tired-as-fuck brain, lightly kissed the top of Potter's head and then rested his own head on him.

He fell asleep within seconds.

He had no nightmares that night.

**

Draco awoke to the sound of the other boys in the dorm chatting and laughing. He blinked a few times before realizing he was still in Potter's bed. 

He was in Potter's bed, in nothing but his pajama bottoms, and they were cuddling like lovers.

Draco thanked every god there was that he had closed his own curtains on his bed last night. The other boys would think he was still sleeping, and if past experience was anything to go by, they wouldn't disturb him.

Potter, on the other hand...

Yes, Weasley would probably barge into Potter's bed in about ten minutes if Potter wasn't up.

"Potter," he whispered, quiet and insistent, gently shaking Potter's shoulder.

"Hmm?" Soft green eyes opened slowly, meeting Draco's, and a slow smile crossed his face. "Hi."

Draco ignored every emotion he was feeling in his chest and smiled back. "Hi yourself. Our dormmates are up."

Potter sat up abruptly, moving to sit in front of Draco. "Shit," he whispered. "Obviously we weren't..." he gestured between them, and Draco cracked a smile. 

"Shagging like crazy?"

Potter flushed dark, but continued. "But they'll think we were, and I don't want to tell them the actual reason because they'll just worry, and-"

"Potter," Draco said quietly, because it looked like Potter was on the verge of a mental breakdown. "Just get out of bed and close your curtains. Mine are closed, they think I'm asleep."

Potter relaxed. "Christ, Draco, you're the best. How are you so fucking logical in these situations?"

Draco shrugged, grinning. "I've snuck people into the Slytherin dorms before. I know all the tricks."

Something strange crossed Potter's face. "You've had girls... in your bed?" The real question was clear on his face, and Draco stifled laughter.

"Are you trying to tiptoe your away around asking me if I fucked people and snuck them out of my room?"

Potter flushed and nodded. Draco grinned.

"Then your answer is yes."

"How many?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, eyes widening. Why the fuck would he want to know that?

"How many girls have you..." Potter's face was a lovely shade of pink. "Had sex with?"

"Zero," Draco said wickedly, reveling in the confusion scattering Potter's face. "Unless you count oral, in which case two."

"But then-"

"Potter." Draco raised one eyebrow. "I said I've fucked people. I've fucked zero girls. What information are you left with here?"

Potter's eyes were wide. "You're-"

"Yep." Instantly, Draco's mind flooded with worry. What if Potter thought he was taking advantage, or was into him, or was only being nice because he liked him-

Potter's face fell into a grin. "Me too."

"You too, as in you've fucked zero girls or you're gay?" Draco whispered, barely able to breathe. He vaguely registered Weasley yelling at Finnegan about socks, but nothing mattered other than the next words to come out of Potter's mouth.

"Both," Potter said, an easy grin coming onto his face. Then he tilted his head. "Unless you count oral, then only one."

"Don't mock me," Draco hissed, unable to hide his grin. Then it dropped. "Wait, who the fuck has given you a blowjob?"

Potter flushed yet again. "Erm..."

"Potter."

"Oh, alright. Ginny. And Charlie. And Hermione, but erm... it was the other way around."

"What the fuck do you mean by other way around?" Draco hissed, because there were a couple of things that could mean, and he really didn't want to imagine any of them, but he was a nosy little bitch.

Potter's face flushed even further. "Um... I did it... to her."

"You ate out Granger?" Draco hissed, maybe a bit louder than they had been talking before.

"Shhhh!" Potter whispered, launching forward and slamming his hand over Draco's mouth. Both of them froze, eyes wide, waiting to see if anyone had heard them.

When nothing happened other than Weasley muttering to Longbottom about Thomas and Finnegan being so bloody sappy and Neville laughing and telling him that he and Granger were worse, both boys relaxed. Potter slowly removed his hand and backed away a bit. His face was even redder than before.

"Does Weasley know?"

Potter shook his head, looking down at the blankets.

Draco smiled. "Glad to know your dirty little secrets, Potter."

Potter scowled at him, although it didn't have as much heat as it once might have. "What about you?"

"What about me what?" Draco said, feigning innocence.

Potter glared at him. "What people..." he gestured at Draco. Draco only smiled angelically. He wanted Potter to say it.

After a moment of glaring silence, Potter huffed. "Who have you... had oral sex with?"

"So formal," Draco teased. God, Potter looked lovely when he blushed. "Pansy, Astoria, Theo, and Blaise."

Potter's eyes went wide, and Draco couldn't read his expression for a minute before Potter's green eyes rolled to the back of his head and he leaned back slightly. Draco stopped breathing.

"God damn," he hissed when he sat back up and looked back at Draco. "Zabini is fucking fine, and he's into guys? I have my next target." His eyes scanned the curtains as though he would be able to see Zabini through them. Heat flared in Draco's stomach. He ignored it.

"I'm offended, Potter," he said casually, leaning back against the pillows. "I'm sitting right here, in your bed after spending the night together, and all you can think about is Blaise." He threw his arm dramatically over his eyes, tilting his head back. "If you weren't so addictively hot, I might have been upset."

"Shut up," Potter laughed easily and softly, grabbing one of the pillows from behind Draco's head and tossing it at him. Draco moved his arm and grinned at the boy.

"You should get out of bed," he murmured. "They'll start wondering."

Potter nodded, his smile fading. He looked at the curtain, and Draco wondered if they were thinking the same thing.

When he leaves, will things go back to how they were before?

Potter scanned his bed before grabbing his wand, which was tangled in the sheets right by Draco's thigh. Draco held his breath, not trusting whatever noise he would have made if he hadn't.

Potter looked at him one last time before sliding out of the bed and pushing aside the curtains, carefully shutting them again.

Draco felt strangely like he'd been abandoned after a one-night stand, which was stupid because that wasn't even close to what had happened.

"Harry!" Weasley cheered from outside the curtain. Draco flinched at the loudness of it.

"Hush, Ron, you'll wake Malfoy," Potter said in a much softer voice.

"That's fine, breakfast is in five anyway. We should wake him up. HEY MAL-"

"Ron!" Potter hissed. "Stop it! I'll wake him up when we leave."

"Whatever, mate. Say, you're really red. You alright, mate?"

"No he's not!" came Finnegan's cheerful shout. "Look at his pants, mate! Who's the lucky girl you were thinking of, Harry?"

Draco froze. There was pretty much only one thing they could be talking about. He wondered if it was from their short conversation about Zabini. 

He wondered if it was from him.

"Shut up," Potter grumbled. "I'm bloody human, I'm eighteen, and I'm horny. You can fuck right off, Seamus. You're lucky, you have a boyfriend to get you off."

"I'll get you off, Harry!" Finnegan cheered back at the same time Thomas replied "yep, that's all I am. A body to provide Seamus with sex."

"Aw, you know I love you sunshine," Finnegan replied. There was a loud kissing sound, and then a pretend vomiting noise that sounded suspiciously like Potter.

"Say, Harry, you want help with that?" Finnegan asked slyly.

"Keep trying to make me jealous, Seamus, and we're not going to make it to breakfast," Thomas' warning voice said.

Draco stilled. He would not stay in here while Finnegan and Thomas had sex, Potter's nightmares be damned.

Luckily, Potter had the same idea as him. "Seamus, stop. Dean needs breakfast, look at him. He looks like a mess."

"Gee, thanks Harry," Thomas replied sarcastically.

"Well, I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Potter said awkwardly.

"Are you gonna-"

"Yes, Seamus, I'm gonna jerk off. Go get breakfast."

"Should we wake up Malfoy?"

"He's still sleeping?" Potter's surprised voice was so genuine and believable that Draco wondered how he had ever gotten in trouble for anything. "I'll wake him up when I leave. He's probably tired."

"Yeah, cause you watch him in his sleep," Weasley replied.

"Is that who you're gonna jack it to, Harry?" Finnegan asked gleefully. "Are you gonna-"

"Fuck RIGHT OFF, SEAMUS!" The bathroom door slammed shut, met with laughter from the rest of the boys in the room.

"Does he really watch Draco in his sleep?" Blaise's interested voice cut in quietly. At least Blaise respected Draco's fake sleep.

"None of your business, Zabini," Weasley said, but immediately softened his voice. He had been trying to do that lately with Slytherins, softening his voice and yelling less. "Malfoy hadn't told you?"

"He talks to Pansy more than me."

"Does that bother you?" Thomas asked, sounding genuinely concerned. 

"Nah. I've got Theo to talk to. The thing with Slytherins, we're not super tight like the other houses. We respect space more than anything, and it often ends with detached relationships with each other."

"That's sad," Weasley said softly.

"Not really, it's what we're used to. But if it comforts you to know, we've each kind of partnered off. we've all got one really good friend, so we're not totally frozen to each other."

There was a long silence. Then-

"We should hang out with you guys more often."

"Excuse me?" Blaise replied to Weasley with the same level of shock Draco was feeling.

"We exclude you. We don't really mean to, it's more of an unconscious thing than any, but whenever we have parties and stuff, the Slytherins are invited last-minute or not at all. It's always the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors. We excluded you, and I feel terrible about it."

"I know it's not on purpose," Blaise said quietly, but the tone of his voice suggested he had also noticed the separation of Slytherins from the other houses.

"We're all going to Hogsmeade on Saturday to get Christmas gifts. We're doing a Secret Santa, Hermione will explain it to you, and I'd love for you guys to be a part of it."

Silence. 

"I'd like that," Blaise said, his voice stunned. "I think I'd like that a lot."

There was a more comfortable shuffling silence after that in which the boys finished getting ready to go to breakfast, and after Finnegan shouted at the bathroom door asking Potter if he wanted a hand and got a breathless "Fuck off, Seamus!" that made the Irish boy laugh so hard Draco heard him hit the floor, the boys slowly left the room until all that was left was Draco.

At least, he thought so, but he was going to hide in here until Potter told him he was clear.

Just in case.

Not because he wanted to talk to Potter again.

Of course.

After another minute of complete silence- Draco suspected Potter had placed silencing charms in the bathroom- he heard the door open and after another ten seconds, the curtain swept open and Potter pulled him into a hug.

"Wha- Potter?"

"Thank you for last night, for being so kind," Potter whispered. "I really needed that."

Draco closed his eyes and tightly hugged Potter back. "Of course."

Potter pulled away, his eyes alight with something Draco didn't recognize, and he stood back up, grinning slightly. He had a sort of glow about him, and for the sake of his sanity and his dignity, he did his absolute best to not think about what Potter had been doing just minutes beforehand.

Speaking of...

"You probably could have asked Blaise to help you and he would have, you know," Draco said matter-of-factly, proud of his voice for not wavering.

Potter looked briefly confused before his face flushed.

"Yeah, I could have," he said, but it seemed like there was something he was leaving out. 

"It would be fair, since it's his bloody fault you got hard over him being so damn attractive. Merlin, Potter, if I had known a simple conversation about the boy would get you all riled up, I would have found much more interesting ways to mess with you than fighting all these years."

Potter gave him a strange look the moment Draco said his first sentence, but all he replied with was "Harry."

"Hmm?"

Potter was already walking across the room, but he threw a grin over his shoulder, stopping Draco's heart. 

"If you're going to be attempting to get me riled up, you may as well have the audacity to call me Harry."

**

The sentence had played through Draco's head all day, along with the smile Harry had given him while he said it. 

It had sounded so flirtatious, as though Harry knew the dirty connotation to his words, that they could be interpreted to be aimed at Draco and not talking about conversations about Blaise.

Or maybe Draco was just horny.

It was probably that.

Nonetheless, he had been half-hard all day and unable to pay attention in class.

Stupid fucking Potter.

**

As Draco tugged his shirt off his head, sitting on the edge of his bed and stretching, he couldn't help but glance at Harry.

The boy was staring at his bed with an expression that almost seemed... afraid.

Draco couldn't help but find a little bit of pleasure in knowing that he was the only person who knew that about Harry.

He then felt sick that he was getting any sort of pleasure out of their situation at all.

Draco shook his head slightly, sliding into his bed and watching Harry slowly get into his own.

Draco made his decision right then and there, but he waited until the other boys had gone to bed and closed their curtains before he slipped out of his own bed for the second time in a row. 

He closed his curtains and cast a spell that would prevent them from being opened before he quietly walked over to Harry's bed and pushed the curtain open.

Harry's wide green eyes met his own, and Draco felt a pang of longing in his heart, but instead of acting on that, he leaned against the post, crossing his arms and grinning down at the boy.

"Care for a nighttime companion?" he asked, allowing a bit of flirtatiousness into his voice, and Harry laughed softly before grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward onto the softness of his bed.

Draco pulled the curtains closed, casting a silencing charm and a Lumos to see Harry before he spoke. "You alright?"

Harry nodded shyly. "Would you sleep with me anyway?" he asked softly, and instantly his face flooded with color and his eyes widened. "Not like-"

Draco snorted. "I know, Merlin. Yes, I'll stay with you."

Harry instantly relaxed, and Draco couldn't help but smile as he laid down next to Harry, resting his head on a pillow that smelled just fucking like him.

"Draco, I'm afraid to go to sleep." Harry's voice was wavering, his eyes searching Draco's for any hint of mocking.

Draco whispered "Nox," and wrapped one arm around Harry's waist, gently pulling him closer. "I'll wake you up if you have any nightmares. I'll be here."

Harry's whole body relaxed as Draco spoke.

"Fuck, Draco, thank you."

Draco tilted his head forward until it was just barely touching Harry's. "Of course."

That night, once again, he didn't have a single nightmare.

**

It had been two weeks that Draco and Harry had been sharing a bed, and Draco hadn't had anything but sweet dreams since then. Judging by Harry's smiles, Draco would assume he had too.

They had developed a sort of schedule. Draco would wait until their dorm mates fell asleep before sneaking out and cuddling Harry to sleep. His silent magical alarm would wake him up at six in the morning and he would go to his own bed before the others woke up.

It worked perfectly.

Until one night something changed.

Finnegan and Thomas had just slipped into their bed- well, technically it was two beds, but they had pushed them together and with a bit of magic made them into one- and Draco was going to wait for another minute like he usually did, but he heard soft noise and looked out through his curtain, silently yelling at whoever was awake to go back to bed so he could cuddle Harry.

But it was Harry, carefully sliding out of his own bed and shutting his curtains, casting a few charms that Draco usually cast on his own bed, and then he came and clambered into Draco's bed.

"I thought I'd save you the trouble this once," he said with a shy smile, and Merlin, if Draco wasn't in love before he was now.

Instead of saying that, though, Draco only opened his arms and Harry snuggled into them- he fit perfectly, of course he did, they fit perfectly together- and they drifted off after Draco cast the Silencing spell around his bed.

Draco awoke around five in the morning- and he was going to guess five because the sky was no longer pitch-black but was also not close to sunrise and also since that one time he had been right, he was convinced he was psychic when it came to time- to soft noises.

He was confused for a second before he realized the boy next to him was making small whimpering noises and moving around a bit.

Instantly realizing Harry was having a nightmare, Draco sat up and gently placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, whispering the first soft, comforting things he could think of (and one of those may have been "I love you", but Harry wasn't awake yet and hadn't heard it, so it didn't matter) until Harry's eyes slowly opened.

And then they widened in what looked a lot like horror, and Harry immediately edged out of Draco's grasp.

Draco drew his hands back, a bit hurt, but also concerned about his friend.

"It was just a nightmare," he tried to soothe, but Harry didn't seem to hear him.

"I'm sorry, it's just, we're in your bed and it smells like you-" he started saying, looking panicked.

And damn, that stung, because being in Draco's bed and it smelling like Draco was triggering nightmares?

"It's okay," he continued, ignoring the pain in his heart. "It was just a nightmare, we can move to your bed, I'm sorry, we shouldn't have slept in mine, I should have known it would have upset you somehow."

Harry tilted his head, staring at him for a long moment before something seemed to register and surprise entered his eyes.

"You think I had a nightmare because I'm in your bed?"

Now Draco was fucking confused. He nodded slowly.

"Draco, I haven't been having nightmares at all since we've been sleeping together." The insinuation of Harry's words burns that beautiful blush back onto his cheeks, and Draco is more confused than ever.

"Then what is it? Are you alright?"

"Draco," Harry said gently, as though he was afraid of upsetting him. "I wasn't having a nightmare. I was having a dream."

"Oh." Draco relaxed significantly. "I'm sorry I woke you up, you were making little noises and I panicked-" 

He cut off when he saw the look on Harry's face.

Harry was just sitting there quietly, cheeks bright red, looking as though he was waiting for Draco to realize something. He looked... ashamed.

And finally, Draco's five a.m. dumbass brains caught up.

"Oh," he breathed. "Oh."

Harry looked down. "Yeah."

"Harry-"

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out. "I've been trying to keep it a secret ever since we started having this arrangement, because I know I'm just a friend to you, and honestly, that's alright, I love being your friend, it's just somewhere along the way of going from enemies to dormmates to sleeping buddies to friends I fell in love with you and your bed smells like you and God, I'm so sorry. I'll go back to my bed now, I'm so sorry."

Draco just watched, stunned, as a red-faced Harry stumbled out of his bed and walked over to his own. 

And for the second time, his five a.m. brain registered everything at once and he stumbled out of his own bed, saying fuck it to closed curtains and pretending he was asleep in the morning, he could just pretend he had gotten breakfast early anyway, and he yanked open Harry's curtain, startling the upset boy, and pushed him back onto the bed, wide-eyed and breathless.

"You love me?" was all he could whisper. He couldn't fucking breathe.

"I love you," Harry confirmed, and those were the single most beautiful words Harry could have ever fucking said, and Draco leaned down and kissed him.

Fuck, Harry's mouth was so fucking soft, and he was frozen for a half a second before his legs wrapped around Draco's waist and his heels pressed into the small of Draco's back and he wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and kissed him like his life fucking depended on it.

And fuck if it wasn't the most perfect thing Draco had experienced in his whole goddamn life, every moment up until now was fucking worthless compared to the feeling of Harry's fingers slipping through his blonde hair and his legs wrapped around Draco and his beautiful fucking mouth and his tongue tentatively slipping into Draco's mouth and Draco welcoming it with everything he had.

And then Harry pulled Draco's hips down his with heels, bringing their clothed erections together, and Draco hadn't even realized how hard he was but holy fuck they were grinding and fuck what he had thought earlier, this was the most perfect thing in the world.

And some part of Draco registered that he was moaning like a wanton whore and he flushed from head to toe when he realized that the curtain was still open.

Harry seemed to realize it too, and he released one hand from Draco's hair and the curtains shut swiftly and he murmured something that sounded like a silencing spell before his mouth was back on Draco's, and Draco's whole body was shaking because fuck if that wasn't hot as hell, and Harry pulled away with a breathless grin, his lips a deep red and shiny and he whispered "You like when I do that shit, don't you?"

"If by 'that shit', you mean some of the most powerful magic known to wizardkind, then yes, I like it, I love it, it turns me on to no end," Draco hissed back, capturing Harry's lips again.

Harry moaned softly before his left foot pushed down much harder on Draco's hip and he tugged his hair a bit and Draco's mouth fell open in a soundless moan as Harry flipped them over and grinned down at him.

"I've never done that before," he said shyly, green eyes glittering pupils almost entirely dilated. "Was I any good at it?"

Draco groaned. "Fuck, Harry, you're fucking perfect." He grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and yanked him back down for another kiss.

Harry's hands were skating along Draco's sides, touching his bare skin, sending shivers throughout Draco's body.

"Why the fuck-" Draco hissed, yanking Harry impossibly closer to him by his shirt. "Do you wear a fucking shirt to sleep? It's bloody unfair is what it is, I want you shirtless, now."

"Bossy," Harry mumbled against his lips, smiling. "If I wasn't wearing a shirt, you wouldn't be able to pull me down to kiss you."

Draco glared at him, and to prove his point, he yanked Harry's shirt over his head, placing one hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.

"Now you know you're wrong. Never use any excuse to wear clothes again," he growled, and Harry laughed softly, although his laugh was studdered slightly by the moan the cut through it when Draco copied Harry's earlier action, wrapping his legs around Harry's waist and pulling him down to grind against him again.

"Fuck, Draco," Harry moaned, his head falling back a bit and exposing his throat. Draco wasted no time lunging forward and tracing a single line from Harry's collarbone to his jaw before pausing to suck a mark just below Harry's jaw.

"Fuck, fuck, Draco," Harry was chanting, and Draco was pretty sure the sound of Harry moaning his name was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard and he wanted to hear it more.

He tilted his head, studying the mark he had left and decided he liked it. Leaning forward again, he carefully began to trace with his tongue on Harry's throat as the other boy grinded on him and gasped softly as the sensation.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Harry seemed unable to go two words without making some small noise, and Draco loved it.

He finished the curve of the C before he responded. 

"I'm writing my name on your skin."

"Fuck," Harry moaned, and his head tilted back again and Draco finished the O and had half a second to smirk at Harry before the other boy captured his mouth again.

Draco was close, he knew it, and some part of him really wanted to be embarrassed about the fact that he was about to come all over his pajama bottoms, but the rest of him didn't give a single flying fuck and that part was reigning control right now.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," Harry chanted, the heat between them inescapable. He leaned down, pressing kisses down Draco's throat as his hips started moving faster and stuttering in their pattern. "Draco, Draco, Draco!"

On the last chant of his name, Harry's body went tense and he bit down on the juncture between Draco's throat and shoulder, and Draco lost it, coming before he even knew what was happening and the world went black for a second before he blinked a few times and it returned to normal. 

"I love you," he said breathlessly, the words off his lips before he fully registered them. "I love you, I love you, I love-"

He was cut off by Harry kissing him again. 

"I love you," Harry mumbled against his lips. "And we're both fucking idiots for not doing this sooner."

"I guess we'll have to make up for lost time."

Harry laughed, rolling off of Draco and casting a wandless cleaning spell that made Draco shiver.

"No," Harry groaned. "We are not doing that again, we are going to sleep."

"Aren't you worried about what your friends will think?" Draco asked. "I mean, unless you want to keep it a sec-"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not worried, no I don't want to keep it a secret, and also, while we're on the topic, what exactly are we keeping secret?"

"A relationship, I hope, seeing as we both apparently fucking love each other," Draco grumbled, irritated that Harry had made him say it.

"That's not how you ask, Draco." Harry's singsong voice was far too mocking.

"Fine. Will you be my boyfriend, Harry?"

"Hm. I'll think about it."

"Harry!"

Harry laughed, rolling on top of Draco again and kissing him sweetly, saying yes with every part of himself, and Draco couldn't help but smile into the kiss.

Everything was going to be a dream from here on out.

There were no more nightmares to be had.