Third Place - Drama

(Thursday night)

It went amazingly well considering the circumstances...

As I too got ready for bed, Harry eyed the common room, searching for something. There was the hint of confusion that I was coming to understand meant a sliver of his world was coming back to him. He turned those soulful eyes on me. "Where is the dark room?" I frowned. Dark room? My confusion must have shown because Harry patiently explained himself in one awful sentence. "I don�t have to sleep in the cupboard here?"

I couldn�t decide which of the hard nosed, heartless Slytherins were the angriest at that statement. Pansy, who had accompanied us into the dorm to tuck Harry in gasped slightly and then slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the vitriol from spewing out. Her eyes, however, shot infuriated sparks.

Unfortunately, Vince was quite known for speaking before thinking. "You had to sleep in a cupboard?" He asked incredulously. Greg slapped him on the back of the head but even that couldn�t deter him. Harry looked cautiously between the two hulking giants before looking back to me, not sure of what the right response was. Regardless, Vince had begun cursing a blue streak. Greg slapped him again and pointed at Harry who was trembling in his surety that he�d once again done something wrong.

No. The only ones who�d done something wrong were those bastards that hurt him as a child, the bastards that left him there, and the bastards...like me...that had preyed upon his insecurities regarding his Muggle relatives. When I thought of all the times that I insinuated he lived like a king?

"No, pet, you don�t have to sleep in a cupboard," I managed with a smile, even. "The house-elves have made up this cozy cot for you right next to my bed. Come on now and try it out." I�m not sure who this odd mediator/caretaker/protector person was, but he seemed to make Harry feel better. I suppose I was willing to be humiliated a few times for the sanctity of that.

Harry crept closer, watching the cot as though it might jump up and bite him. He cautiously climbed in and lay down, his body stiff as a board. I tucked the blanket in around him and reached back to my bed to pick up his stuffed puppy. His eyes lit up like stars at the sight and he smiled up at me in thanks as he cuddled the mutt closer.

Pansy moved forward, actually pushing me out of the way, and crouched beside Harry�s bed. "You sleep well, all right pumpkin?" she smiled down at him. He nodded, smiling back. She leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead and then leaned in to kiss his stuffed dog as well. He snuggled down, his hand appearing out of the blanket to wave in response to Vince and Greg�s goodnight calls.

Finally, as the room quieted down, I knelt down at Harry�s bedside. He looked up at me with such an expression of trust and affection that I nearly ran. But, I sucked up my courage and reached out to brush aside a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. He caught my hand and snuggled down with it, closing his eyes as though he meant to sleep holding my hand.

And I let him.

I sat petting his hair absently for the few short minutes it took for him to fall asleep. "Goodnight, my Harry," I whispered when I deemed it safe.

"G�night, Draco," he responded sluggishly, sleep dragging him down into its embrace. "I love you."

That �I love you� stayed on my mind for the rest of the night. I eventually pried my hand away and crawled into my own bed, but my hand still tingled where Harry had held it. My ears still rang with his voice. My nose could still smell the soap we�d used to wash his hair. My whole being was taken up with Harry Potter...and I couldn�t find a reason to regret it.

(Friday morning through afternoon)

Breakfast was an affair similar to that of the day before. However, bad guy that I was, I insisted that Harry try all of the things the Slytherins wanted him to by placing the bite on his plate. Pansy glared at me but eventually gave in. She got even by slathering his sausages in maple syrup, an idiosyncrasy of hers that she knew I hated with a passion. Of course, Harry had to love the damn sausages that way.

After breakfast came Ancient Runes. Harry occupied himself with stacking the runes into little buildings and scribbling on parchment I slipped to him. Lunch was a boring affair for Harry. It was a stomach-churning event for me. After lunch came the formidable task of the day: Harry Potter in Potions class. I knew Snape understood Harry�s problem. Hell, he�d been the one to diagnose it. But the dour man had hated Harry for six years. He�d hated the idea of Harry for nearly two decades. How would he react if Harry did something to annoy him? And how long would that take? Harry had a knack for getting on Snape's nerves.

So, it was with trepidation that I settled Harry into a seat beside me at the Potions desk. He was quiet for the first part of the class; the sound of his quill scratching on parchment was the only noise he made. But then, he gave up writing and started staring.

He kept staring at Snape long after I�d poked him and told him to cut it out. He just looked at me with that �I know something but I�m not sure what it is� expression that he�d worn several times these last couple of days. I sighed. Great. All we needed was for Harry Potter to get a flashback of Snape's class. He�d more than likely ask a �forbidden� question and, childlike or not, Harry would be spending the rest of his life in detention.

I kept an eye on Harry throughout the class, hoping he�d make it through to dinner before having one of his glimpses. No such luck. As everyone was finishing up bottling their potions and setting them on the corners of their desks, Harry shook his head like a dog ridding itself of water. He frowned slightly and then did the worst possible thing in the entire world...interrupted Snape.

"Sir?" he inserted forcefully into Snape's diatribe on how only a quarter of the class had probably gotten a passing grade. Snape's voice ground to a halt and everyone in the class held their breath. "Sir, are you my daddy?"

Giggles could be heard being squelched. Shifting in seats was common. Whispers were even heard in one or two spots in the room. But from Snape? Not a breath. He just paled and stared at Harry as though he were the Dark Lord come to Hogwarts.

"How could you possibly have come to that conclusion, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked chillily. He looked as though he wanted to strangle Harry. Or the class. Or...well, someone.

Harry just shrugged. "You make me feel safe," was Harry�s response. The muffled sounds in the room died out. Nothing was heard save the intake and exhale of breath.

"I make you feel...safe?" Snape repeated incredulously.

Harry nodded, a smile beginning to creep on his face. "I remember you. The smell of Potions stuff. It�s...safe. And you�re safe and...warm?" Harry cocked his head to the side, trying to grasp at a memory that was just on the edge of his recollection. "Have you ever hugged me before? Cause I remember something..."

From behind us came a volley of snorts and disbelieving sounds, but neither Harry nor the professor paid any attention to them. "Once," Snape replied quietly, effectively silencing the disbelievers. "Only once."

Harry smiled as if vindicated that he�d remembered something correctly. "Why?" he asked.

Snape, if possible, went paler. "Your...Lupin died," he said in a voice just above a whisper. "You were crying. You couldn�t breathe. You begged me to...to just let the Dark Lord have you. So that no one else would die."

Gasps went through the classroom as well as a small moan that I thought came from Granger�s table. What? I wanted to yell at her. You weren�t expecting that he blamed himself for the werewolf�s death? I mentally snorted. I hated him...or something...and even I knew that he blamed himself. I had the Slytherins on a suicide watch for him. Granted, as far as they knew it was just a �keep an eye on Potter, he�s up to something� mission.

I could feel the flush rising. Right. What crap. Given the state of the last few days, they all knew exactly why I was having them watch him. Crap. They knew before I did how I felt about the Golden Idiot.

"And you hugged me?" Harry�s voice dragged me back to the present.

"You...you were...you looked..." Snape seemed unable to come up with even the simplest descriptive word. So I helped him out.

"Small," I supplied with a pained smile. There was surprise on Snape� face. And also agreement.

"Small," he nodded.

"Did I like it?" Harry pressed.

Snape actually stuttered. Sounds filtered out of his mouth that had no similarity to words at all. Finally he just shrugged. "I don�t know. I didn�t ask. We never talked about it. We both seemed to prefer to pretend it never happened." His gaze softened then. It was an expression I�d never before seen on Snape's face...save for when he entered Harry�s mind and found no recognition. "But you stopped crying," he whispered.

And then Harry did something no person to my knowledge had ever done before...he stood and hugged Potions master Severus Snape. Snape looked as though the giant squid had gotten a hold of him. He stood with arms out to his sides, staring down at Harry as the smaller boy wrapped his own arms around Snape's waist. Harry snuggled into Snape's chest and closed his eyes. A serene smile came over his face.

Slowly...oh, so very slowly...Snape lowered his arms until they rested on Harry�s shoulders. He held that position for long moments before sliding them around to Harry�s back and gently squeezing the boy closer. Harry sighed contentedly. "You hug nice," he murmured into Snape's dark robes.

A bell chimed through the castle, ending classes for the day, but Harry didn�t let go. Neither did Snape. He just stared down at the boy in his arms and absently spoke to the class. "Go ahead and go to dinner. You�re excused."

Granger hesitated, though everyone else stood immediately. "But sir," she said amidst the groans of the class, who already knew what she was going to ask. "It�s the weekend." Snape just blinked at her. "You always assign homework on the weekend, sir," she pointed out. The growls of the rest of the class were rising in volume.

"Oh," Snape said vaguely. "So I do." He shrugged and turned his gaze back to Harry, still clutching his waist. "No homework this weekend. Just...no, no homework." He shook his head. Harry smiled up at him and leaned in. Snape bent down, not really understanding why, I�d say. And Harry pecked him on the cheek. Harry then turned Snape loose and bounced over to our table to collect his things.

As he took my hand and began to skip out of the classroom, I noticed everyone was staring at Snape.

But Snape was staring in bewilderment after Harry.

Retreat - Chapter 6

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