[Harry]

Harry awoke with a deafening shriek.

"What? WHAT?" he bolted upwards, hand shooting in his pajama pocket reaching for his wand.

"Harry- your, your forehead-"

Harry barely registered a pale blonde clad also in silk pajamas standing at the other side of the bed. His blurry but gleaming grey pupils were shining with shock.

"Wh- ahhh," Harry grimaced the instant he swiveled his head. His head was pounding, pangs of pain were jolting from his forehead into his skull.

Harry's hand involuntarily flew to his face. Sure enough, a Galleon-sized lump could be felt on his forehead and it stung horribly as his fingers made contact.

Then he remembered. He would be surprised if slamming headfirst into a door frame didn't result in this raging pain.

Draco came round the bed and approached him.

"How-"

"Hang on," Harry said. "Accio glasses!"

The pair of round spectacles came zooming towards him and he gingerly put them on, the world finally not blotchy and dizzy.

Draco bent down beside him, examining the wound. He looked evidently worried.

"Harry... it doesn't look really good, it's purple."

"What?! Ahhhh!" he winced again as his head made an attempt for sudden movement, fresh pain shooting out from his swollen bruise.

"Harry, you need to lie down," Draco said as he tried to wrestle a protesting Harry back down.

"I- can't- Travailler- kill-" Harry managed to squeeze out before he was pinned down by Draco. The scene felt oddly familiar to him.

"Accio!" an embroidered napkin came soaring into the room. Draco pointed his wand at the palm of it. "Glacious!"

Draco pressed the napkin-wrapped ice onto Harry's forehead. The pain eased fairly.

"Thanks," he mumbled, not looking at him. "What time is it?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Harry, you can't be seriously thinking about going to Auror training today, are you?"

Harry made to get up but was strangled back down by Draco in mere seconds. "I have to!" he protested, still pinned under him. "I called in sick on Monday! Travailler will kill me if I follow up!"

"I don't care who this Travailler bloke is, you're not going to work in this condition," Draco said.

"He's my trainer," Harry explained hastily. "I'm not joking, I need to go, or I'll get sacked even before I make Auror! What time is it?"

Draco sighed, still holding him down. "Little over six."

Harry stared up at him. "Seriously?" He paused briefly. Draco did seem to always get up pretty early, after all. Every time except this peculiar predicament when Harry saw him in the morning, he was already dressed and neatly groomed. He broke into a grin. "Excellent, I've still got time," he said as he made an attempt to leap from bed.

He was stopped by Draco's arms still pressing firmly at his shoulders. "Fine, but you'll have to keep pressing that to your forehead," he gestured to the ice pack. "I've got something that will speed up the healing process, and I might be able to whisk up some bandages so you won't be a laughing stock at training. But judging by the looks of it, it will be at least two days before it's gone if you don't go to St. Mungo's."

"Thanks," he replied appreciatively. "And does it look that bad?"

He could see Draco was biting back a laugh. "No, Harry, you have a magnificent blotch of red and purple fireworks on your forehead," he cackled. "Finally something more catchy than your scar, eh?"

"Shut up," Harry snapped as Draco left the room.

Draco returned shortly with a bottle. He unscrewed the cap and dabbed an oily substance onto his fingers.

"Take off the ice pack for now," Draco said to him. He pulled it off and the lump started throbbing again.

Seeing the pain on his face, Draco quickly bent down and added, "Just for a moment. This thing works miracles."

Harry tried not to wince in as Draco's fingers rubbed over the injury, allowing shocks of pain to swarm through his head. The smell of ground herbs and a strong scent of wormwood wafted between them. As Draco's hand left his face, he immediately knew what he meant by working miracles. The pain had ceased considerably and the throbbing died down, leaving only tingles of pain at the general region of the lump.

"Put it back on." Harry once again pressed the ice pack back onto his forehead. Now with the ointment and the ice, it was almost painless.

Harry smiled at him. "Thank you, Draco."

Instead of replying, Draco flopped down onto the bed, still in his pajamas. It was strange to see him like that, without the expensive clothing and immaculately combed hair. Harry secretly wished he could see him more often like this.

Harry scooched over a bit to make more room for Draco to sit. "How the hell did that happen, anyway?" Draco asked.

"Oh," Harry exclaimed, slightly startled. "I, um, I heard you scream," he said, his cheeks tinted with pink.

"Wait, you heard? Oh well, no wonder..." Draco appeared to be contemplating.

"Anyway," Harry continued, "I- I thought you were in danger, so I, um, kind of ran into your door frame trying to get to you." He was positively blushing now.

Draco's expression was torn between amusement and embarrassment. "I- well, that's- yes, um, continue?" he choked, blushing and trying not to laugh. Harry might've hexed him if he did laugh anyway. Even if he didn't regret rushing to him, it was still kind of Draco's fault that he had this ginormous bump on his head.

"That's kind of it. I think I swore very loudly because believe me, ramming headfirst into a marble door frame isn't always a treat." Harry chuckled and Draco laughed a little. "I sort of- at least I think I did-" Harry said, scratching his head, trying to remember details, "kick open your door, and then I saw you having a nightmare. I woke you up, you fell back to sleep, and then... yep."

Harry's blush was creeping down his neck. He avoided the part why he was here in the same bed with him. Draco didn't seem to be concerned about it anyway.

Trying hard to suppress his flaming hot cheeks, he recalled the secret events with Draco while he was asleep. He skipped that, too. He definitely didn't need to know.

"Oh," Draco finally after an awkward pause. "Thanks... and sorry, really- about you're... fireworks," Draco added, maintaining a straight face.

Harry shot him an annoyed look but smiled. "It's okay, it's feeling a lot better now, thanks to you." He lifted the ice pack and Draco made to push it back but Harry interjected quickly. "I've got to change," he said.

"You should lie down a little longer," he protested. "It's only nearly seven, you've still got time."

"I dunno, I just feel safer if I got ready first, you know? With this thing on my head," Harry pointed at his forehead.

"Fine. But changing's not going to heal your bump," Draco retorted.

Harry rolled his eyes smiling and climbed out of bed. A sharp jolt of agony in his ankle made him tumble onto the floor.

"Harry!"

Luckily, he didn't dive headfirst onto the ground. His landing was cushioned by the plush carpet in Draco's room but that didn't stop the violent throbbing on his right ankle.

"Merlin's- balls-" he gasped, clinging onto his right foot.

Draco crouched down immediately and let out a faint scream. "Holy Salazar! Harry, your foot is swollen! You definitely can't go to training today!"

Harry swore. So much for kicking open the bloody door. Whatever it seemed like in muggle movies, it was not pleasant and definitely not an admirable and heroic act.

Draco shouted the usual accio and glacious and applied another ice pack onto his injured ankle.

"Did you trip when you climbed out?" Draco asked frantically.

"No- ahh-" he hissed in pain as he tried to sit up properly. "Yesterday... kicking open your door... seriously, don't try this, ever..."

Harry glared at him as Draco was obviously biting his lip, his face full of concentration. Trying to change the topic, Draco scooched closer to him and lifted up Harry's foot. "It's not looking that bad... better than your forehead, obviously," he smirked and Harry shot him a glance. "But it still might need some bandaging... ah, yes," he said as he retrieved the bottled ointment. "This will certainly help."