Draco's POV

I had what was quite possibly the best sleep I can recall ever experiencing.

Granted, I still had nightmares - I doubt I'll ever be free of those - but after I woke up, crying and shuddering at some point in the early hours, the nightmares had ceased.

I didn't know what happened, I couldn't remember anything apart from waking up in a dazed mess and then falling asleep peacefully. Really, just the fact that I had fallen asleep again should have made me wonder how I'd managed it. Usually, I'd just wake up and read for a few hours in an attempt to calm my racing mind.

When I awoke for the second time, I almost leapt out of my skin.

The Boy Who Lived. Was in my bed. I was wrapped around him. With my head on his chest.

'Fuck. O-h fucking hell.'

I was clutching his arm tightly for some reason or another, his skin was so soft, smooth, warm in contrast to my constant chill.

For a few minutes, I thought I was still asleep. It couldn't possibly be real, could it?

Could it?

No, it was just a dream. It didn't matter that it was the most realistic dream I'd ever experienced, it had to be a dream.

I felt panic rise in my chest as I realised that this simply could not be a dream. I'd dreamed of something like this so many times, each time waking up to be slapped by the harsh reality of the world.

Where was the slap? No rude awakening?

I was motionless, unable to move from shock. I was unable to remove myself from on top of him but, did I really want to?

No, I did not. Merlin, I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay there in his comforting embrace.

Embrace.

He was holding me, I noticed suddenly. His hands were lying loosely on my waist. I don't think I've ever felt so protected in someone's grip, never wanted someone's grip so much in my life.

Ever since The Dark Lord attempted to hug me, I've never really appreciated affection or human contact. I suppose it was all just ruined for me, just like he'd ruined the rest of my life.

I smiled to myself, allowing myself to feel this enveloping happiness for the first time in years. I wasn't going to waste the moment by thinking about my past. I snuggled against him, knowing fine well I would not be going back to sleep.

How did it happen though? Why was Potter in my bed?

I wasn't complaining - no way, I'd wanted this for years - but it felt strange to wake up and find him there, peaceful, asleep.

He looked so fucking adorable whilst he slept, like a puppy. I felt an intense desire to run my hand through his hair, but there was no way I was doing that. For all I knew, it would break whatever spell I was trapped in.

I decided to just enjoy it while it lasted and lay there for an unknown time. It was only about five o'clock, I had a while before it was time to begin getting dressed. Why not spend it here?

I couldn't calm my frantic thoughts, no matter how much I wanted to just enjoy the moment. Why the fuck was Potter in my bed? Why was he on top of the duvet? Why did he have his glasses on? What in Merlin tits was happening?

My mind raced as I frantically tried to come up with a logical explanation for Potter's sudden appearance. My eventual conclusion? There wasn't one.

Had I done something to him? In my sleep? Was that even possible?

I reeled at the thought, mulling it over uncomfortably in my head. No, that was impossible. You couldn't do magic in your sleep.

He stirred suddenly, stretched and inhaled deeply. I think Potter was waking up.

I sat up so fast I felt dizzy and shuffled to the other side of the bed from him, already missing his body heat. He's never going to want to speak to me again, not after whatever that was.

Twin emerald pools sparkled into existence as he opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, frowning.

Then, his eyes flicked to me.

I smirked at him, winking too. I had to play the 'Cool Malfoy' act that everyone was accustomed to seeing. If I acted flustered now, if I betrayed my true feelings, I'd break apart completely.

Malfoys stay calm, they don't break under pressure.

Potters eyes widened as he saw me, he too sat up, albeit not nearly as fast as I did.

"Um, you feeling ok now Malfoy?" He asked me hesitantly.

I was taken aback.

'Bloody hell Potter, you're just clueless aren't you? I've never felt better. Have you any idea how long I've wanted to wake up in your arms?'

I didn't say that, obviously, I couldn't. By saying that, I was admitting my feelings and REALLY ruining the Malfoy name, for good.

"What do you mean, Potter?" I was confused. He wants to know how I feel? How about an explanation first?

He looked down at his hands, as if they held the words he was looking for.

"Well, I mean, after last night?"

'Wow Potter. Wow. Just great at wording things aren't we? What the fuck happened last night? What the hell are you talking about?'

Again, I couldn't say that. I had to be careful about how I handled this. Malfoys think before they speak, after all.

I furrowed my brow, expertly bottling my feelings and hiding them from the world. Hiding feelings was easy, especially when you've been doing it for as long as I had. Lucius would never have tolerated sadness, anger, excitement. A Malfoy is elegant at all times, a master of his feelings. Under his rule, feelings were swallowed and adapted to better fit the family reputation.

Sad? No you're not, be calm. Angry? Never! Control yourself. Breaking apart inside because the Boy Who bloody Lived, Scarface Potter, the gorgeous specimen himself, is sitting on the edge of your bed? Hide it. He doesn't have to know how you feel.

All of this flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds as I schooled my features into an expression of perplexed curiosity. I was fully awake now, all traces of sleep gone. My brain was no longer sluggish, struggling to keep up. I was sharp, ready.

"Last night?" The faint tremor in my voice was masked by the venom injected into the words. I felt like I'd been stabbed by my own heart.

Here I was, with the boy of my dreams seated on my bed, caring about me as I'd wished he would for Merlin knows how long, and I was forced to push it all away, wrap up my disappointment and self-resentment and flick it into the wind in the blink of an eye.

"Malfoy, you begged me to stay with you. You don't remember?" He smirked slightly as he spoke. A smirk looked good on him, accented his features well.

My brain imploded as I absorbed his words a few moments later.

Begged him to stay? When had I even...?

'Oh. The nightmare'

It all came rushing back to me in a blur, broken images that stopped and started almost at random.

Crying. Grasping his arm. Choking on my own sobs. Asking Potter to stay with me. Curling up against him when he'd relented. That stupid nightmare, that had started it all.

I'd dreamed about the moment I'd thought he was dead. When my mother had reported to the Dark Lord that Harry Potter was dead. That was the moment that my heart had broken, splintered, torn into minuscule shreds of pain. That was why I'd woken up, screaming no doubt.

It'd been a while since I'd thought about that moment. I don't think I've ever felt as much raw pain as I did then.

Who knew 'love' would hurt more than the cruciatus cruse?

My face must have betrayed me, this time I was far too utterly shocked to alter my features.

'He stayed with me, his enemy. Bloody Potter stayed with ME.'

In that moment, I couldn't care less about my family, loyalties, any of it. The fucker I'd tormented for years had stuck by me in a moment of need. I wanted to kiss him so badly. My eyes involuntarily flickered down to his lips, tracing their soft outline, then running over his downcast meadow eyes.

My own parents had abandoned me when I'd screamed myself awake in the night. I was certain they'd heard me, I doubted even the deepest of sleepers could have slumbered through it. Yet a man I barely knew came to the rescue - twice - without so much as a moments hesitation.

I wanted to hate him, it would have made everything so, so much easier for me. It would end about half of my problems and allow me to get over this strange, obsessive crush.

There was only one problem.

How could I hate him? After he'd saved me from a night crying to myself in silence? How could I despise someone so pure despite the crap that had been thrown at him his entire life.

In short: I couldn't hate him, it was impossible. I'd tried, many times, but every time I caught his glorious lopsided smile, the light in the emerald globes of his eyes or even the look of curious puzzlement he wore so often, my attempts were smashed to smithereens.

I realise that I'd zoned out, lost in my own thoughts.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Panic rose within me, a wave of fire that choked my breath, made my breathing shallow. There was no pretending now. Not even my fathers mask would have been able to hide these feelings as they banded together and swamped me.

"Yeah - that. I-I remember. Why- why did you stay?" As much as I tried to control it, my eyes shone with hope. I wanted him to say something that proved my feelings were not all for nought. Yet, at the same time, I wanted him to crush everything I felt for him in a few words. I was tired of feeling so torn between tradition and my own interests. I didn't want to live under the overshadowing presence of my family name any longer, but there was no way I could possibly escape. No. It followed me like the plague.

He didn't even look flustered, just traced his fingers along his arm as he answered.

"Why? Malfoy, I was worried about you. I know what it's like to wake up from a nightmare and have no one there for you. I wouldn't want to put anyone else through that. So of course I was there for you, I'd do the same for anyone." He locked eyes with me as he spoke, capturing me completely in the brief second that we held eye contact.

'Potter, that's not what I wanted you to say. Merlin, you're making it all so much harder.'

He could have made me want to kill him with just a few words, but no, of course Potter would have a brave and heroic reason. He wanted to comfort me. The noble, loyal bastard.

"Thanks, Potter." I wanted to dissolve into him right there. But, alas, as always I was held back by heritage, controlled by the family that had all but abandoned me.

When I next looked up, there was an almost shocked look on his face, then he smiled and stood.

"Don't mention it Malfoy." He paused, took a deep breath. "Will you re-consider the truce I mentioned the other day?" His eyes held so much hope, so much expectation.

What reason did I really have to refuse now?

He'd helped me overnight in a way that my entire family, friends, the lot had never attempted to. He'd stuck with me when I'd asked him to and made it impossible to hate him as I had from first to third year, as I'd tried to since my family had rejected me.

Could I really break all remaining bonds with my family for the sake of Potter?

No.

I couldn't do that to them. They may have thrown me out, abused me and Merlin knows I hated the fuckers. But, they were still blood. Blood was worth more than family.

Malfoys don't sell each other out for the sake of happiness. Malfoys are loyal. Malfoys are strong.

"I can't Potter. Merlin I can't." 'No. I will not break down. Not now. Don't. You. Dare.'

"Why Malfoy?! For fucks sake, what's your problem? Is this all because of that shitty handshake in first year? I've been nothing but nice to you. What's wrong with you?" There was fire in his eyes now. Turning those emerald pools to a dark green.

"What's wrong with me? Potter, what's right with me? Where do I start.... I'm gay, I'm a mess, my family wouldn't care if I just killed myself right here, I'm a disgrace to everyone I've ever wanted to please. I'm forced between two sides. Myself and my family. I'm fighting an internal war, Potter. Do you have any idea what that's like!? You might have got past the war, but everyday is a memory of it. I'm never going to escape."

I froze suddenly.

'Fuck me. Oh fuck me.'

I'd said that out loud. That hadn't been in my head. Here it comes. He'll hit me now, maybe with the cruciatus curse, maybe he'll just punch me. Malfoys don't blab their feelings. Malfoys keep them to themselves. I tensed, awaiting the sharp pain that I knew would come any second now.

I heard the floorboards creaking as he came around to my side of the bed, then a weight beside me as he sat down. I could almost see the viciousness glint in his eye that had been present whenever Lucius walked past me after I'd told my parents about my sexuality.

My mind turned to mush as I felt warm arms around me, soft breathing. He rubbed circles on my back.

Definitely not what I had been expecting. Quite the opposite actually.

I opened my eyes suddenly. I hadn't even realised I was crying again . On their own accord, my arms went around his torso, I lay my head on his shoulder.

'I can't do this. Potter, I can't. Leave me alone. Get out.'

But, I also couldn't move away, I couldn't detach myself. There was no way I was detaching myself.

Again, I cried into his shoulder as he sat there, silent and understanding. I supposed he knew what this was like. No doubt him, Weasley and Granger had held each other like this, aiding each other as they put the war behind them.

'Wait. Potter knows I'm gay now.'

The thought struck like a bolt of lightning in my brain.

I leapt back, out of his embrace and off of the bed, backing off warily. What else had I said?

"You know." My voice shook, half strangled by tears. I cursed myself for how weak I sounded, how vulnerable the words were.

He frowned, the anger in his eyes gone, possibly even never there, replaced by a look of sympathy.

"Know what?" He looked utterly lost. I couldn't tell if he was really that oblivious, or trying to get me to embarrass myself for the second time. I decided that he wouldn't do the latter, not if he wanted to be on friendly terms so badly.

"That - that I'm gay." I could barely speak the words. They sounded like poison on my tongue. All my life, I'd been taught that any relationship that wasn't male and female was disgusting, wrong, against nature. Then, here I was, an abomination myself. It was quite a rude awakening really and probably the last thing I would ever had wanted.

"Gay? Malfoy, I don't care. Sexuality doesn't mean anything to me. Why would it? I don't see why anyone would treat anyone else different just because of who they like. It just doesn't make any sense. Anyway, it'd be a bit awkward if I did, since I live with my godfather and his husband." He smiled at the end, shaking his head, then looked up at me, still smiling.

Of course Perfect Potter was accepting of me, was there anything about him that wasn't either loyal, kind or caring?

Apparently not.

His little speech had cemented my decision for me, even if I had been on the borderline of accepting anyway. He deserved at least a chance. To hell with what my family would say. One chance won't hurt.

"Potter, I'll consider this truce between us. I don't think I can be bothered fighting anymore either." Him speaking had given me a little time to steady my voice. When I next glanced up, I was almost blinded by his smile. That fucking gorgeous smile I'd only ever seen from a distance. I'd caused that smile, me.

Hopefully, this wouldn't all turn out to be another mistake.

~~~~~~
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