Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 36
- 37
- 38
‘Kay, here’s the final chapter before things start getting… err, different/interesting/weird as hell… XD I’ve got a busy schedule tomorrow, what with work and choir but I promise I’ll post at least one chapter after my final mass around 11-12:00 tomorrow night. Can’t say the exact time, because Christmas masses tend to drag on, but it should be before midnight. La, can’t wait! I’ve lost my religion years ago. (I have the annoying habit of thinking for myself. God may be out there but I’m not listening to some priest or some old book tell me what god might be saying or wanting… like I even care. Free will, baby. ~rolls eyes~ I have enough problems with my family telling me what to do with my life. I work at a church btw, how wrong is that? XD )
But I still love singing at Christmas time. It’s always high energy and filled with feelings of love and kindness… which is something I hope everyone feels this time of year. (I feel so bad for the people alone that go and kill themselves; it happens a lot more this time of year.) You don’t have to believe in the specifics to share the love of hope and of being alive. Life is so fleeting; enjoy it while you have it. I used to have this quote on my key chain by Emily Dickinson, something like, “That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet.” All perspective… although I’m a firm pusher of recycling of energy. Living is too fun to not play the life game over and over.
And, OMG, what the hell is wrong with these schools, preventing kids from singing Christmas carols and changing the lyrics in songs and plays to keep the religion out? I’m watching the News right now; people are just going over board with this political correctness shit. They did the same thing when I was in high school. We could sing about Chanukah, Kwanzaa, and vague winter stuff with good will towards men, but gods help us if we said Jesus or Christmas. It’s reverse discrimination, if they want to admit it or not… but I’m rambling into a rant now. Sorry, sorry. ^__^;; I’m wordy… just a little… Eh, no one reads this part anyways. XD
kaka-she: Get out from under that rock, hun! I have a nice comfy stand of bushes by the window so you can look in at the computer and have birds to keep you company with plenty of room for your sis. ~glomp~
JJ: I don’t know if it’s forgiveness so much as acceptance at this point. Harry, in general, is an easygoing kind of guy. A lot of people, even when hurt, have the ability to let the pain go and keep things the way they were just for their own peace of mind. I haven’t decided that much, but I know Harry needs his friends right now. I think, if anything, it’s always going to be in the back of Harry’s mind, a kind of bad taste in his mouth until he learns to truly forgive.
Answers: I don’t know when it happened, but Draco’s personality is just so overpowering, there’s no way he could ever be just an average background character or even a supporting character in this. I ended up with two main characters instead. (Malfoys have to have that spotlight!… and damn, but he looks good in it too. =^__^= ) He’s really fun to write and very spontaneous… he actually surprises me at times. XD I guess when I started I really wanted to explore what made him tick. Harry too, but I won’t be truly getting into his character until later, when he starts to face all those memories and feelings that he’s been doing everything to ignore. Harry’s a little numb right now. Oh, and I’ll have a chapter up for you tomorrow so you have something to read on Christmas Eve. Have a Happy Christmas!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH37

Draco looked up from where he was reading in a modified chair that he had charmed to be more comfortable. Potter had his tail out again and the little bugger insisted on staring and hissing at him to no end. “You know… I could chop you off and cook you. I hear sauté snake is quite good.” The tail just blinked at him and, if Draco didn’t know better, leered.
“Stop picking on him.” Harry muttered, grabbing his tail absentmindedly while paging through one of the books Draco had Ricket bring him to pass the time. He figured learning as much as possible could help prevent him from dying all the earlier. Until he got the dark book back he would have to stick with Malfoy’s selection. Draco had been more than happy to let him read; a part of him wondered if the Slytherin thought he wouldn’t understand the complex ideas.
“So… I don’t quite get what these Domin are supposed to do. Why would they be expected to come to Earth if they have their own realm or what not?” He turned and walked to sit on the arm of Draco’s chair, pointing out the passage he was talking about. “It says they’re known to travel here every hundred years, but in our school book they said they didn’t have a set pattern and hadn’t been seen in ages.”
“Ummm, I believe it’s all dragon dung…” Draco skimmed through the passage, doing his best to ignore his heightened sensitivity concerning Harry’s close proximity. Potter just insisted on getting as close as possible. Either it was Harry’s way of dealing with his clinginess or the boy just didn’t know common etiquette… Not that he’d say anything. No point alienating Harry when he really didn’t mind him sitting close. It was just a little distracting. “You won’t find anything useful in a book that’s been published within the century. All the facts have been lost years ago.”
“Oh.” Harry sighed, eyeing the small pile of books on the table and resting his arm on Draco’s shoulder. “Being the studious prat you are, would you have happened to have learned such a tidbit of information?” He asked hopefully.
Draco looked up with a frown. “I guess a dunderhead like you will need to know with that lot running about. You’ll be bound to run into them eventually with your luck.” He put his book down and shoved Harry’s tail away from his face. “The Domin only travel to Earth when they are called. The only other time they would be here is if they have a deed that has been given to them to do.”
“But what do they do? Why is Voldemort calling them? Are they warriors?”
“Well, they’re a lot of things, and they do a lot of things. They can be good warriors, but in the past they mostly just delivered messages from the Heir to the Fae. I’m sure Voldemort wants to draw on their power… maybe get information from them… I will hurt you, scaly.” He batted the tail away again, but it only wrapped around his wrist firmly, but not enough to hurt. He hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask Harry if he was in control of the creature that was his tail, it seemed to have a mind of its own… which was just too much to think about right now. Scowling, Draco added. “They can’t be called just by anyone, though. If an Heir lives, they are only allowed to answer the Heir’s call. That’s why the Ministry is in an uproar; they’re scared Voldemort is the Heir.”
“But… why are they blaming you then?” Harry gave Draco a long side-glance. “You didn’t really bond with him, did you?”
“Potter, he tried to kill me. You don’t kill someone you’re bonded to; it’s very, very stupid. Would you like to see my arm too, or are we all set on this?”
Draco wasn’t necessarily frowning, which immediately clued Harry in on just how touchy a subject it was to the boy. “Nope, all set. I’m not bonded to him either, just in case you’re curious.” Harry smirked. “Sooo…?”
“Sooo… Voldemort aside, if I called, the Domin just might answer.” Draco said with a small shrug, carefully peeling the serpent from his wrist. “I’m not stupid enough to try, though.”
“But, why would they answer—?”
“Potter, drop it now or I’ll make you pack all my things.” Draco threatened, snapping his book shut and standing, forcing Harry to move back or fall on the floor. “Did I ask you about the man who isn’t your Uncle or your bloody nightmares? No. So don’t ask me about mine. The last month has been hell and I am in no hurry to talk about it.”
Harry sighed. “Sorry, didn’t realize it was such a touchy thing. Shutting up now.” He collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “How much longer do we have?”
“Two hours and counting. I’m expecting a welcoming party, or something along those lines, so don’t you dare ruin it by playing sick.”
Harry grumbled something inarticulate. “I don’t like parties… well, ones thrown in my honor. The whole thing is stupid. I may get sick just from using the damn floo the way things have been going.”
A worried look crossed Draco’s face. “Do you still feel weak? I think we better have Pomfrey check you out or floo in a specialist once we get to Hogwarts. This could be a sign of something far worse.”
With a sigh, Harry sat up. “I’m not dying. I think I would know. I’ll be better in a month or so; it’ll take some time.” He rolled his eyes at Draco’s sneer. “I just know. It’s my body and I can tell these things, so stop acting like I’m crazy.” Harry grumbled.
“Fine, Potter. Whatever. When you drop dead unexpectedly, I’ll be content in the knowledge that at least you knew.” He met Harry’s glare, his own eyes threatening to go red.
“…The second I step into the hospital wing, I open up the possibility of every single part of me being revealed to the public! That’s not going to happen. The last thing I need is another excuse for people to hate and fear me.”
“Will you stop with that? I don’t fear and hate you; why would people that have loved you all their life suddenly change?”
“But you’re bloody different!” Harry snapped. “You went through the same shit I have and, let’s face it, you never had a high opinion of me to begin with.”
Eyes narrowed, Draco stilled. “Are you suggesting that my opinion has no merit? Because if you are suggesting it, I can leave right now, you bloody Gryffindork.”
“No, you slimy Slytherin, your opinion probably has more merit than anyone I know at the moment! It still doesn’t mean I’m going to drop dead! …Besides, you’ve done fine taking care of me.” He finished calmly. Two weeks stuck with Draco had taught him how to keep his rage in check. Malfoy, unfortunately, still needed some work in that area.
“Potter!” Draco threw his hands up in exasperation. “I’m worried about you! People have died from less during their exritus, and you’ve already had at least three incidences of near death. I am not a healer; this is way over my head. You can’t throw this at me when I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“It’s not like anyone else does either.” Harry sighed, keeping Draco’s gaze. “What’s it been… hundreds of years since a transformation? Just how well do you think a healer would do? At least you know stuff from your family and personal experience. Really, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Draco frowned, but let his anger fade. “… I reserve the right to say I told you so if you die.”
“Right given.” Harry said diplomatically.
“Good, as long as that’s settled. I refuse to speak with you for the rest of the day.” Draco drawled, sitting down and propping his book back open.
“But… that’s not fair.” Harry whined, pouting.
Draco ignored him and continued reading about traversing dimensions with the use of a medium. If the bastard wanted to let himself die, he sure as hell wasn’t going to get any support from him. He was in the middle of reading about how to call a medium when a delicious noise from across the room sent shivers down his spine. Potter had started conversing with his tail again. Bastard. …A medium could only be summoned when its caller is in a state of complete concentration and secure from outside forces… Dear gods, it wasn’t stopping. He peeked an eye up to watch Harry hiss entrancingly, smiling wickedly down at the serpent who was swaying in reply.
Decided, Draco shut his book, got up, and began packing his trunk. Too busy ignoring the bastard Gryffindor, he missed the evil smile sent his way. If he hadn’t, he probably would have smacked him senseless, which Harry was quick to avoid.
“Maaaalfoy…” Harry hissed, watching as the boy gasped and sped up his packing. The prat deserved it. It was one thing to fight about things like muggleborns and Quidditch. Trying to force him to go to a healer crossed the line. Oh, he got that Malfoy was worried. It was kind of nice actually; Ron and Hermione would have done the same. But after everything that had happened he was not about to deal with people telling him what to do. To be serious, he couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by other’s influence, not with the power he now held… He licked his lips thoughtfully. And if he stepped too far, crossed that line into evil, Draco would save him.
“Malfoy.” He switched back to English, eyeing him with a frown. “Are they really going to throw a party?”
Draco paused for a moment before continuing throwing clothes into his trunk.
Harry sighed. “Come on, you’re being silly. Talk to me.”
“No.” Draco sniffed, holding up a tight black shirt to the light.
Aw, hell, he had hurt his feelings. Harry rolled onto his back, his tail thumping idly on the bedspread as he watched the upside down Malfoy pack his clothes. “What, so you’re going to spend the next two hours ignoring me? Isn’t that a little childish for your standards?”
“The whole day, Potter.” Draco answered resolutely, still eyeing the shirt.
When the punishment extended over an hour, Harry knew he was in trouble. Malfoy was not happy at all. It was time for a different angle… the all powerful guilt trip. It was a little iffy, given Draco’s questionable conscious, but still worth a try. “I can’t go back there with you angry at me, Malfoy. I have enough shit to worry about today and your negative energy isn’t going to help me be stable.” It was true, of course. It probably wouldn’t affect him as much as a week ago but, combined with the overwhelming emotional whirlpool he was about to floo into two hours from now, it really wouldn’t help. He stifled a winning smile when Draco sighed in defeat… Or not? Draco was stalking over to him. It was hard to tell from his upside down angle but Draco looked exasperated and a tinge bit pissed.
“You infuriate me.” Draco said calmly.
Harry stayed silent, blinking up at the face leaning close to his. Even Malfoy’s eyelashes were silver, like fresh frost. He was reminded fleetingly of the ice demons he had read about in the dark book. Draco wasn’t cold, though. He smoldered under that frozen exterior, his eyes the only indication of what really went on beyond the slow burn of power Harry could sense. Staring up into those glowing orbs, a plan of how to thank Draco began to form. He would find a way to break the real Draco out of that frozen façade. The world would burn.
“I’ll give you a choice, Potter.” Draco held up the shirt he had been examining, breaking Harry from his thoughts. “You can go to the party wearing this, or you can live without my stimulating conversation for the rest of the day. I think I’m being quite generous.”
Harry raised a brow. There had to be a catch… but what choice did he have? He couldn’t go to Hogwarts with Draco angry at him. Malfoy was the only one he was certain he could talk to without accidentally cursing them into next year—accidentally being the key word. “Fine.” Draco smirked triumphantly and Harry knew he had said the wrong thing. He took a good long look at the shirt Draco was holding. It looked innocent enough. “Shall I put it on now?”
“Oh, you shall.”
Shit. Harry rolled off the bed, landing in a crouch and standing. Malfoy was looking too smug and the shirt was looking too small. Prat. He could tell from Malfoy’s expression that a cloak would not be offered this time.
“Give it here.” He sighed, pulling off the oversized shirt Dobby had brought him and tossing it on the bed.
Draco paused, lips pursed. “There is no way my shirt is touching those horrible pants. Let me find you something.” He turned and carefully sifted through his trunk. Potter’s legs were too long for most of his trousers… but with the right boots…
Harry decidedly kept his mouth shut about Draco’s many issues and put his tail away so he could slip out of his ratty jeans. He sat on the bed in his snitch-covered boxers and thumped his socked feet idly while waiting for Draco to make up his mind. He felt like a bloody doll about to be dressed up with ghastly results. If it was too horrible he could always casually spill something on them… He blinked as something fell into his lap.
“…You’re kidding, right?”
Draco folded his arms and frowned down at him. “I don’t kid, Potter. Put them on.”
“What did you do, save these just for the possibility of embarrassing me in such a situation? I have never seen you wear these, Malfoy. I would have remembered.” Oh, everyone in the bloody school would have remembered if Malfoy had walked into Hogwarts in this.
“Honestly, Potter. I travel in social circles you haven’t even heard of where clothes like these are quite acceptable. Unfortunately for you, our school is just at the border of that influence.” A smile lit across Draco’s face. “You’ll be horribly embarrassed but everyone there will wish they had the same outfit for themselves. It’s very fashion forward.”
Harry blinked down at the black pants dubiously. They were made out of a soft, sleek material and had strange slashes and buckles all over then. “I seriously doubt that.”
Draco’s smile widened. “So what’s the deal with all this anyways?” He asked curiously, waving his hand at Harry’s bare chest and ears and, coincidentally, giving himself the perfect excuse to stare. No, Potter was naïve as they came. It wasn’t that surprising given he had spent the majority of his life small and scrawny. Nature had made up for it but the boy hadn’t noticed yet. Not to worry, a couple of weeks in the company of horny teenagers would set the boy straight. “You really don’t seem like the type.”
“They’re enchanted.” He slipped into the pants and zipped them up. Huh, the pants were actually comfortable, fitting snug but not enough to limit movement. Soft too. He slid his hands down the sides, pausing at the slashes in them that revealed small glimpses of flesh. He could handle walking in them for the day even though they hung lower than he liked. As long as they didn’t trip him or were too tight to walk than it was all good. “You’ve really worn these? There are so many bloody buckles.”
“What are they enchanted for?” Draco tapped Harry’s leg until he raised it high enough for him to reach and buckle the loose straps. “…Quit fidgeting.”
“Err… a lot of things… I didn’t realize you could see them. Well, like, the one on my stomach keeps me from being overwhelmed when I pick up other’s emotions.” Draco gave a sharp tug on his leg. Forced to hop for balance and failing, he fell to the bed with a bounce. “Ooof! Sorry.” He grinned up sheepishly at the exasperated boy. “The jewelry keeps me in balance until I learn to control all my powers. Some I don’t even need anymore. I naturally gained the powers that the Hearken Ring and Sense Coil gave me during my exritus… actually…” He turned a thoughtful eye towards Draco’s neck and the collar peeking out from his shirt as the boy stood and handed him the black shirt.
Straightening up, Draco caught the look. “Second thoughts? I am an exemplary conversationalist.”
Harry shook his head, pulling the shirt over his head and stood. He froze, staring down in confusion. “Oh shit… don’t kill me.” He gasped, fingering the large hole in the front of the shirt. “I swear I didn’t mean to!” He jumped back just in case Draco was in a hitting mood. The invisible armor he was wearing was form fitting but it must have snagged the fabric anyways.
Draco didn’t know whether to laugh at the Gryffindor or cry at his stupidity. He covered his face with his hand instead and took a deep breath. “Potter, you didn’t rip it. It’s the style: flesh and lots of it.”
Harry blinked down at the diamond of his bare skin and met Draco’s eyes. “…I think that may be worse.”
“Trust me, rip it and you’ll find out what worse can really be.” Draco promised. “Come on, boots next and then I’m forcing you to walk around and model.”
“Sadist.”
Draco smiled. “It’s more fun than I thought. The twins were too short to fit into my new wardrobe.”
“Prat.”
“Oh, now you’re just stalling.”
Harry glared but a smile was threatening to break free. He pulled the boots on; they reached up to right below his knees and felt way to soft to be anything but air. “Wow, what are these things made out of? They’re all soft and comfy.” He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, surprised by the lack of weight. For all he knew he looked like a right pounce but damned if the clothes didn’t feel great. Shit, he better not get them dirty after all. They had to be expensive.
“It’s crushed Ven’s Nest. It only grows in the Artic in subzero temperatures and is really rare. Naturally it’s hard as hell, but when treated with Dragon’s Fire it can be manipulated into that soft fabric.” Draco walked around Harry, pulling the shirt down and tucking the tag in the back. “Not bad, Potter. Not bad at all. With a little work I could have you looking ready for court with the Scions.” Or on the pages of magazines…
“The Scion Clans dress like this?” Harry asked in surprise and interest. Maybe he’d risk a glance at the mirror after all… no, no. He really didn’t want to know. You can’t be mortified if you don’t know how bad it is.
“Depends on the occasion. Unless there is ritual involved, this would be common attire. Did you notice the slits in the back of the shirt and pants? That way, when we transform to our Soul Form, we don’t rip our nice clothes.” He informed teasingly. “Lets see if you can last the day without adding a new hole… say, one galleon on it?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re on Malfoy. How about if I rip it, I’ll replace it instead?”
Draco gave a low whistle. “I don’t know, Potter. Are you willing to part with a hundred galleons on a wager?”
“One hundred…?” It wasn’t that he didn’t have the money. He just wasn’t the type to spend it on a simple shirt. Draco was obviously beyond such frugality. “If I win you owe me a galleon, but if I rip it I’ll pay for it, alright?”
“Hey, if that’s the way you want it.” Draco said with a shrug. “I can put it towards the new Firebolt coming out. If you’re going to pay for it though, I might as well just give you the shirt; you could use a new wardrobe… So! You’ve suffered long enough. What do you want to do for our last hour and a half of freedom?”
“Oh… that soon, huh?” Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping.
Draco echoed his sigh, running a hand through his silver hair. “Don’t start brooding on me now. Do you want to model? ‘Cause I’ll make you if you don’t stop the brooding.”
Harry sighed again but held his hands up. “No, no, I’m good… Wanna watch the telle? We won’t be able to do that once at Hogwarts.” He raised a brow at Draco’s sudden smirk.
“I may have fixed up a small set and smuggled it into the castle last year.” Draco confessed smugly.
“You’re brilliant. I’ve told you that, right?”
“I recall something of the sort vaguely. It always helps to refresh my memory.”
Smiling, Harry walked over to where Draco was leaning casually on the desk. “Speaking of which…” He reached up and fiddled with his ear until he had the Hearken Ring clasped between his thumb and forefinger. “Here, I don’t need it anymore but it’s really mad brilliant. Anything, and I mean anything, that has a voice, this’ll translate for you.”
Draco stared at the small ring with interest. “No offense but that’s impossible, Potter. Translation spells work individually. It would take years to fit that many spells on an object and, even if someone took the time, the object would become molecularly unstable from the bombardment of so many spells.”
“Malfoy, stop being so smart and just accept it.” Harry said with a grin.
“Oh… uh, yeah. Thanks, Potter.” Where the hell had Potter gotten all this fancy jewelry anyways? He held out his hand but Harry ignored it and leaned in to fasten the ear cuff securely on Draco’s lobe.
“…There we go.” He pulled back and smiled crookedly at Draco’s flushed face. He had intentionally removed the glamour that kept everyone from seeing it. If Draco could see through the glamours than other people would be able to as well. It was better to have it out in the open than have it hidden. Secrets were better hidden when out in the open. The ring looked good on him, the dark colors contrasting well with his skin so you couldn’t help but notice it. For some reason that seemed very important… like he wanted people to see it and know he had given it too him. “Let’s give it a test.” Closing his eyes, he pictured a snake and hissed, “Slytherin’s crawl through dungeon walls, tongues itching for musky ba—“
“Clever, Potter. Really.” Draco cut him off with a light shove. “Did you come up with that all by yourself or has Granger taken up poetry to add to her many talents?”
Laughing, Harry ducked away. “I see it works. Hermione was on a roll that day.”
“Dear gods…” Draco sighed. He was friends with a Gryffindork… what the hell was he thinking? “Will I be hearing the spiders scream when I step on them now?” The ring tingled slightly where it touched his ear. Probably from all the magic emanating from it; it was almost ticklish but not enough to annoy him. If not, Harry probably would have gone nuts with all the ones he was wearing… especially in such sensitive parts… Hell, bad thoughts, bad thoughts. He started as Harry barreled into him, almost knocking him to the ground. “What is it now?” Harry said something into his shoulder that he couldn’t make out. Shivering, he pushed him back. “What?”
“Just getting a bit of your scent.” Harry repeated and rubbed his head over Draco’s shoulder and neck. “Just incase I lose it today and you’re not around to keep me sane.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Potter… now stop that!” Draco choked out, his head spinning and knees going weak. Bloody Hell.
“I won’t hurt you this time.” Harry whispered, breathing deeply of the fair boy’s flesh. It still made him feel safe and warm, even though Draco had said it should have stopped by now. Gods, he didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts yet. He had been trying not to think about it the whole time but it was difficult when, in little more than an hour, he’d be seeing Dumbledore face to face. Life was so unfair.
“I’m going to start counting…” Draco managed whimper, fighting back a moan as Harry burrowed deeper into his embrace, his ruffled hair tickling his neck in disturbing ways.
Harry blinked and pulled away. “Sorry, got carried away for a second.” He smoothed Draco’s shirt back to its original white crispness and smiled into the shining grey eyes. “Telle?”
Draco let out an annoyed growl to cover his fluster. “Fine, Potter. You’re like a bloody child. Let’s go watch the TV like muggles, you little prat.” It was Hell on Earth, was what it was, and Potter was the bloody flame.
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Awakening To the Dream