When Blaise blinks his eyes open and sits up, he realizes he feels warm. And it's a very odd feeling, which is forgotten because as soon as he looks around, he panics.
He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he does remember being dragged throughout the entire school by a certain Gryffindor bully into his own dorm.
So, when he sees red velvet with golden accents and another two identical beds surrounding the one he's on, he screams.
It's cut short when a figure jumps off the futon in the small living area in the middle of the room, tangled in a blanket, and falls to the floor with a thud.
Blaise gasps in his throat, clutches the duvet and lifts it to his chest.
"What," the blanket monster grunts, struggling to take it off it's head. "What's going on?"
Out of the blanket comes a very ruffled, very exhausted looking Ron with heavy bags under his eyes but alarm showing over every inch of his face.
"What happened?" He asks again, wide-eyed.
"N-Nothing," Blaise is confused. "What am I doing here?"
Ron drops his hands from his defense stance and sighs, rubbing his face. "Why did you scream?"
"I was just...in shock."
The Gryffindor gives him a look, one that says he's going to avenge his beauty sleep, and he sighs. "You snuck in during the middle of the night and crawled into my bed. I didn't think it would be smart if I stayed with you."
Blaise is very confused now. "I snuck in? How..."
"I don't know. I don't even know how you knew this was my bed in complete darkness but who can answer that one?"
"So you slept on the couch? Why didn't you just throw me out? Send me back to my dorm."
"I'm not heartless, you were tired. Half asleep. I guessed you spent half of the night overthinking what we talked about."
Blaise flushes darkly, beautifully, and Ron has to hide his grin behind a cough. "But you look awful."
"Well, yeah," Ron laughs. "This couch is older than Hogwarts."
A surprised laugh bubbles out of Blaise and he lifts his hand over his mouth to conceal it, but Ron catches it and smiles. "Come lay down in your bed. I'll leave."
"You don't have to."
"I have classes anyway," he casts a Tempus charm and collects he has about forty minutes before the cleaning elves wreck his room and reorganize. "I'll see you later."
"Don't," Ron stops when Blaise turns to look at him, and he worries his lip with his teeth. "Don't, uh, forget we have detention today. Missed yesterday's."
"Right," Blaise nods. "I'll remember."
Ron watches him look around and pick up his robe, and then Blaise walks out without turning back. He groans and drops back on the floor over the blanket.
"'Don't forget we have detention today'? Really, Ron? Invite him to dinner and then invite him to detention! Stupid, stupid, stupid."
"Um."
Ron immediately goes to stand up but he slips on the corner of the blanket and falls on the couch. He quickly scrambles to his feet to see Blaise halfway into the room.
"I forgot my wand."
"Right. Yes. Oh, go ahead."
The Slytherin nods, walking to the night table and fetching his wand. "Did I bring anything else?"
"No, no," Ron shakes his head bouncing on his heels. "Just your...self."
There's a spare moment of silence and Ron closes his eyes, purses his lips and kills himself in his head ten thousand times.
But then Blaise laughs and Ron opens his eyes to see him covering his mouth cutely. Ron chuckles. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually this awkward."
"I know," Blaise grins. "I'll see you in detention."
"Bye," Ron whispers. He waits until the door clicks this time, and until he hears footsteps dying at the end of the hall before jumping and whooping in the air.
I made him laugh, Ron thinks. It's going to be a good day.
Ron gets ready in record time and still has time to make his bed. Ron never bothered to learn the simple tending spell, his mum preferred he learned the hard way first and he assumes it's just stuck with him.
When he goes down to the Common Room, Hermione is already sitting on the love seat with a book her lap as always, as if she wasn't gone for the last few weeks.
"Hey," he breathes out, smiling toothily when she looks up at him.
"Well, someone's in a good mood."
"Yeah," Ron stretches, patting his chest. "I feel good. Really good. Ready for today."
Hermione's eyebrows disappear into her hairline and she closes her book. "Alright. Breakfast?"
*******
Evaluation.
Draco can cringe at the word as it crosses his mind.
He does cringe, however, at the conversation he had with Harry and Madame Pomfrey about an hour and a half ago.
The reason the Medical Wing is so quiet.
"He needs to be Evaluated, it's the only way they'll let him stay in the castle," Madame Pomfrey had said, her eyes big and round and worried.
"Evaluated," Draco questioned with indignant fury. "Evaluated?"
"Yes."
"Are you understanding the words that are coming out of your mouth, woman?"
Harry, who had been silent the entirety of Madame Pomfrey's explanation, straightened up at that, his brows downcast and thoughtful. "Hey..."
"It's alright, Harry," she had smiled at him. But Draco was twitching with anger. His fingers were tingling and his jaw was clenched so hard it had started to hurt.
"You are speaking of Advanced Magical Tactics. They are not merciful, I guarantee you that. And I should know," Draco spat sourly, his face pinched in disgust. "I was Evaluated a few times during my trials."
"It's the only way. They're just taking precautions, Mr. Malfoy, it's what they do."
"What they do," Draco had laughed manically, then. Because, no.
That is not what the Ministry does.
The Ministry is filled with unintelligent barmy toads that can not tell the difference between a scared kid and a murderer.
"What they do," Draco's voice deepened with emotion. "Is they tear people apart. For their own enjoyment. And I will not allow that to happen again."
Draco ignored Harry's little mumbled, "Again?"
But Madame Pomfrey's eyes grew sad. "My dear boy, I am sorry. But Mr. Potter cannot continue his recovery in here if it is not done. And with your particular situation..."
"I do not care. Those idiots will not get anywhere near Harry, and that is final."
"Draco."
At first, Draco thought he imagined it. But when Harry repeated his name a little louder to get his attention from having a stare down with the Medi-Witch, Draco turned to Harry with surprise concealed in his angry eyes.
"It's alright," Harry had said softly. There was appreciation in his eyes, and he even had a small smile that was meant to ease Draco's uneasiness.
But Draco found no comfort in it.
"Potter," Draco had felt distraught,not even caring that his voice had cracked a little, and he walked to the bedside to squat next to it, looking up at Harry's framed eyes. "You cannot let them walk all over you like this. This is completely unnecessary. Minister Fudge is an idiot with only half a brain with a will to bend power to his liking. You do not have to bow to it."
"I know," Harry had smiled again. He reached for Draco's hand and gave it a pat. Then he knocked his jaw with his knuckles softly. "But I'd rather be interrogated than be left alone and treated like a freak."
Draco made a noise of protest and went to stand up, but Harry took his wrist and held him there for a moment.
"We are more than we seem," Harry had said firmly. And the way he was looking between Draco's eyes made his chest cave.
"You are more than they make you," Draco answered, staring back equally as intense.
In the end, Draco stood back while Madame Pomfrey preformed a few initiation spells to prepare Harry's mind and body for the Evaluation.
But whenever he would twitch in discomfort, the Medi-Witch would immediately cease her casting and murmur things into his ear.
The Slytherin growled.
"You cannot prepare him if you keep babying him."
"This is his first time getting Evaluated!"
"Do you think they will care?" Draco had stepped off from leaning on the wall and stalked forward. Madame Pomfrey had stepped out of his way, not in favor of getting run over by a moody teenager.
Draco marched right up to Harry's bedside where said boy was panting, his head lolling side to side as his body was trying to stay upright. He snapped his fingers in front of his face.
"Potter?"
Harry only mumbled something.
The blond exhaled, pursed his lips and took Harry's cheeks into his hands, lifting his face to look at him. "You do not have to go through with this, you troll."
The Gryffindor only chuckled and swayed into Draco's right hand, panting into his wrist. "I don't have a choice."
"For Salazar's sake, Potter," Draco sighed irritatedly and knocked Harry's face back into his hands. "You are not strong enough for this. Not yet. Trust me."
But Harry only shook his head. "I have to. I have to. I have to."
And so here Draco sits, his knee bouncing and his fingers tapping against it. He feels heavy, like he just wants to lay down and sleep and forget the way Harry gave in so easily to those bastards.
He can't stop worrying himself, though, and it's frustrating.
Why do I even care about this buffoon? Draco shakes his head and leans down to run his hands through his hair. When has he ever done anything for me?
Except, Draco thinks. Save my life. Several times.
And he owes him everything, because Harry might have given the final verdict to throw Lucius in Azkaban, but if Draco is being completely honest and unbiased, he had it coming.
Lucius was a cold-hearted father, even though he loves his wife and son, his willingness to please a higher power was pathetic.
Also, not only did Harry give his father the outcome he deserved, he also cleared his mother of all charges and he defended Draco, despite all his wrongdoings. Despite him attempting to murder Albus Dumbledore out of fear, of having no spine for himself or his family. Despite all the years of torment he put Harry through knowing his fate.
Harry still came out on top.
Only for these useless, spineless miscreants to think they have a say over the health of the person that saved their arses.
Draco groans into his hands.
He doesn't notice his leg stops shaking but when he looks at the empty bed next to him, it starts bouncing again.
It has already been two hours, how much longer will they hold him?
He shivers when he remembers Harry's voice, the determination in it.
"I have to. I have to. I have to."
"You never have to do anything you do not want to every again," Draco says out loud. "I promise you, Potter."