Upon awakening, his eyes slotted to show black strands of hair that fell in odd ways. Quickly, he closed his eyes again because he heard voices—instinct. The one voice had become easily recognizable and almost imprinted in his head. Draco's voice always rang out with the smoothness of silk, despite commonly making wise remarks. "You'd think Potter's boyfriend would be breaking down the door." He spat, "Merlin's beard, this kid is difficult."

"No wonder your father wanted to kill him." A deeper, more disgusted voice danced in the room. "I would've followed you two if I knew he'd be this much of a pain in my-"

"Alright! No need to get overly aggressive. That's my thing." Draco snapped, and he must've kneeled down to look at Harry because his warm breaths struck Harry's icy cheek.

"Imagine if he was The Chosen One! We'd be still serving Voldemort!" The harsh voice called, then paused,"Mark my words, I'm not serving this git if-"

"He's awake. Be courteous." Draco ran a soft hand through the obsidian black hair, ruffling it like one would do to a brother. "I can tell, Harry. Your eyebrows gave it away."

"They also gave away how much he takes care of his-" Draco's sharp face turned and gave a disapproving grimace, Harry watched and saw a fairly tall young man standing near Draco's side. His complexion was a beautiful dark hue and his hair was a honey brown color.

"Where's Oliver?" Harry asked, greeted with the distasteful look from Draco and an amused look from Theodore Nott. Harry felt groggy, as if he'd been asleep for years and hadn't moved a muscle for so long that they'd eroded.

"No where to be found."

Draco glared, his piercing blue eyes were enough to make Theodore stand down. "Busy, I'm sure. How're you feeling?" Draco inquired, and the sincerity in his voice was apparent from his soft tone. He'd seemed to talk to Harry like he was still a clueless child, who thought he was ordinary. He'd become powerful, and found his talents.

Harry thought about his answer. He felt the aching pain of the slashes on his back, but the pain wasn't unbearable. The prophecy claimed it would drive him crazy, and the procedure done was immensely painful, but now it had become dull and less painful than beatings from his Uncle Vernon.

Harry wore a somber look, and buried his head deeper into his pillow. He'd only just gotten freedom, and now they would definitely deprive him of it. Draco seemed to understand without Harry having to say and said, "Don't fret. I'll do some research and figure out what this is. Then, we'll cure it and you won't have to worry about the ministry." Draco consoled, and his voice was almost convincing enough to soothe Harry.

Cure it? What if it was in him? What if he had an evil inside of him that was forcefully tearing itself out. They heard footsteps, and Harry painfully contorted his head so that he could see who it was. Draco's eyes wandered too, and they were both surprised. A tall man with a crew cut had wandered in, looking worried and disheveled. In one hand was a bag of fast food, and in the other was a drink. Harry gave a wholehearted smile, while Draco attempted your disguise his annoyance. "Oliver." Harry said gleefully, and the boy hesitantly approached.

"Am I allowed in?" Oliver asked, and Draco nodded. Oliver happily placed his goods on the bedside table, and stood beside Harry. "Sorry that I wasn't here. I didn't want to disturb the healers' work." Oliver said, and it was obvious he was sincerely sorry. "I'll help you sit up so you can eat. I'm sure you're starving."

Oliver went to help Harry get up, but Draco interjected. "He's injured. I don't think moving him right now would be smart."

"No, I suddenly feel great. I can move." Harry said with a smile, and then made an attempt to lift himself up. Both Oliver and Draco instinctively helped him get on his knees, and then sit down, without letting his back touch the pillow or bed. When the we're done, Oliver and Draco exchanges grimaces. The tension between them was clear. "Thanks." Harry said.

Oliver grabbed the bag and put it down on the bed, then took a seat on the bed next to Harry. "I got fish a chips. It's a muggle dish, I know, but I always think that muggle fast food is the best." Oliver said and grabbed his own stuff from the bag.

"I grew up with muggles. I love fish and chips." Harry reminded, earning a smile.

"I'll leave you two alone." Draco said, with a furrowed brow and a disappointed look. Harry felt a pang of guilt, like someone squeezed his heart. Draco has taken him in when no one else wanted him, and he repays him by being nice when it's convenient.

Oliver seemed to notice his guilt because he took Harry's hand gently. The gesture made Harry forget about his worries, and focus on his delicious chips. He had never had anyone to hold his hand or bring him food when he was sick. It made him feel special. "The Weasley's will probably drop by later. We all didn't want to be a disruption." Oliver comforted, and once again made Harry smile—if the smile had ever left at all.

***

If Harry closed his eyes, he could smell the mold of the dingy cupboard. He feel the books and papers that had been hastily stuffed under his firm mattress. He could feel the bruises, and the pains of black eyes. When he was alone, he could remember the feeling of impending doom when Vernon called his name or Dudley stood over him like a vulture stood over a rat. Especially at times like these when he was trapped with his own thoughts. The only company was other sick patients, who were mostly unconscious or asleep. It made sense though, the cast of the moon through the window told him it was sometime past midnight. He was agonizingly tired, but he couldn't sleep. Nothing felt right. His pillow wasn't fluffy, his cot was as stiff as a board, and the room smelled like hand sanitizer. Occasionally, healers would come to check on patients and Harry would pretend to be asleep.

When he heard footsteps, he immediately shut his eyes and evened out his breathing. He felt the person come near his cot, and felt a hand brush a strand of his hair behind his ear, which told him exactly who it was. Harry wanted to open his eyes to see the look on Draco's face, but he remained still. He heard Draco's coat crinkle as he crouched down, and felt the hot air on his cheek. After a moment of hesitation, he felt a warm sensation on his cheek. The kind of warm of freshly dried towels, sunbathing, and a crackling fire. When the feeling left his cheeks with a soft pop noise, his cheek felt cold. The man walked out soon after, and Harry was left to ponder what had just happened. Draco Malfoy had just kissed him.