He sat up and still felt like his head was big. It wasn't a stunner... did he get a concussion or something? He sighed and looked around on the floor for his shirt. At least, his trousers were still on. He got out of bed, and his legs were weak. Damn... what happened? He walked cautiously toward the desk and spotted the white-blonde telltale hair.
"Malfoy!"
Malfoy jumped awake and nearly fell out of his chair. He got up and backed away from him with his hands up defensively.
"Malfoy, what the hell happened? Why am I in your room?" Harry growled.
"Oh fuck... you don't remember, do you?" Malfoy sighed.
"Remember what? Why am I here, Malfoy," he asked loudly, almost pulling out his wand, which was in his pocket.
But Malfoy had backed as far as he could away from him and still had his hands up. Harry wasn't sure what the hell was going on, and as of last night, their truce was still on. He had started to trust Malfoy a little over the few months they had been back. But he didn't trust anything about waking up somewhere he didn't remember going to.
"Easy, Potter... I didn't do anything to you... I promise," he said, almost fearfully.
Harry took a deep breath. Somehow, he trusted Malfoy's cautious tone and demeanor. Malfoy knew fucking with him would be bad for his probation. He took another few breaths. He realized that Malfoy was still wearing the same shirt and trousers as he had on last night. Harry was still shirtless.
"Where's my shirt?"
"Umm... in the common room."
"Why... wait, what the hell happened?"
Malfoy grimaced. "What do you remember?"
"I-I... well fuck. Ron and Hermione took Seamus to the hospital wing. Then I was about to leave. The music was so... loud... and then... I felt... happy. What the fuck? I hated it in there."
Malfoy grimaced. "So nothing after that?"
Harry tried to remember. He remembered hands on his body... his waist... maybe lower. He looked at his chest and tried to remember... but it was like there was a blank spot.
"Was I Oblivated?"
"Umm... no. Not entirely sure what it was, but it seemed to do a few things."
Harry was starting to get pissed as he was deliberately not answering him. "Malfoy, I swear to Merlin... if you tell me what the hell is going on...."
"I... don't know how to tell you it, and you would actually believe me," Malfoy whispered, his hands still up and even shaking.
Harry, despite being confused and a little off, trusted him. His fear was palpable, and Harry knew that Malfoy wouldn't hurt him. Malfoy had left out a headache potion and actually gave up his bed for him. Harry realized that Malfoy had brought him to his own room for safety. His safety.
"I'll believe you, Malfoy."
Malfoy looked at him skeptically.
"I will. I'm not stupid. You brought me here for a reason and not to hurt me. Please tell me what happened... and put your hands down. I'm not going to hex you."
Malfoy lowered his hands and looked grave. "Sit down, Potter."
Harry sat in Malfoy's desk chair. It was hard and uncomfortable. Did he really sleep in his chair all night?
Malfoy sat at the end of his bed. "I was watching Finnegan's disastrous antics and saw you come over to help."
"Yeah?"