apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• twenty •

When Corben woke up, he found himself lying next to Harry, who was still fast asleep. His eyebrows weaved into a frown – what was he doing here?

Slowly and carefully, he shifted to get into a more comfortable position, but the consequent creaking of the bed woke Harry up. He froze and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Good morning," said Harry with a smile, closing his eyes again.

"Good … morning," he said confusedly. "What – what am I doing here?"

Harry's eyes opened once again. He gave a small, throaty chuckle. "The ghoul was banging on the pipes last night. You were scared. So you came here."

This only served to increase his confusion. "The ghoul was … banging on the pipes?"

"Not really. You just used it as an excuse to come here."

The memory gradually trickled into his head, and when he fully remembered the events of last night, he blushed and sat up, moving the blanket away from him. What on earth was he thinking?

But Harry grabbed his arms from behind and pulled him back. "Hey, what's the hurry? It's just six in the morning."

"We have to –"

"Everyone else is sleeping," Harry whispered into his ear. He found himself giving in and settling down once again beside him. "Come and cuddle me."

Corben rested back against him whilst he snaked his arm around his waist. "Merry Christmas," said Harry.

"Merry Christmas," he answered. Corben felt his heart hammering inside his chest, and thought that if it went any faster, Harry would be able to hear it too. "You look pretty."

"I just woke up, Corben," he laughed. "I'm sure my hair is a mess."

"Exactly."

Harry took his hand and touched the tips of his fingers with Corben's. He noticed how long his own fingers were and how Harry's pale skin contrasted so remarkably against his own. He slid his fingers into the spaces between Harry's fingers, before slowly closing his fist.

"Thanks for bringing me here," he said. "It actually does feel kind of nice."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

He felt Harry's hand moving over his head. He began to stroke his hair, and Corben unwittingly shivered. His eyes closed of their own accord, his posture relaxed, and his heart craved for more.

There was a loud banging on the door that caused both of them to jump and tear themselves away from each other. Then Ron shouted from the other side. "Harry, Corben? Are you two up? Come on downstairs, everyone's waiting."

"Coming, Ron," Harry called out with his throaty voice. "Give us – give me a minute."

The sound of footsteps receding was heard, and once it went silent, Corben let out the breath he has been holding. Harry slumped back into the bed again.

"I thought you said it was only six," he looked at Harry in confusion. Harry began to laugh.

"My watch is on the other side of the room, Corben. I was lying. It's probably eight now."

Nodding rather abashedly, Corben put on his cloak and picked up his bag from the floor. He began rummaging through the contents to search for his toothbrush. Harry dragged himself out of the bed and hunted through the pile of clothes lying on the floor until he found a pair of rather dirty mittens. He shook them vigorously, perhaps to get rid of the dirt, and put them on.