The Sunrise of My Heart

When I woke up the next morning, it was to a pounding headache and a feeling of nausea. I groaned softly and tried to go back to sleep, but my mind wouldn't let me. And neither would Pansy. She kept freaking talking.

"So you got in late last night," she said to me, giving me a contemptuous look. "What were you doing?"

"Homework," I muttered, wishing her voice wasn't so loud or annoying. "And puking. I'm sick," I lied.

She made a face at the last part, stepping further away from me. "If you're going to spend all of your time with those filthy Gryffindors," she continued, acting like she hadn't heard me say anything, "you should really sleep over there. That way, you don't wake all of us up when you come in at four in the morning."

"I would, but they don't have an extra bed for me," I answered, keeping my voice low to avoid making my throbbing head any worse.

"Just kick the Mudblood to the floor, where she belongs. Grovelling in the dirt."

"Pansy, if I weren't sick and weak right now, I'd kick your ass for saying that," I answered, glaring at her weakly.

She sneered at me, but I noticed she also glanced nervously at my hands, making sure I didn't have my wand. After a moment, she said what I was sure had really been bothering her all along. "I heard you talking to Draco. Are you two close again?" Despite trying to sound like she was sneering, her voice was filled with jealousy and anger, causing me to smirk lightly despite my throbbing head and churning stomach.

"No. We're... acquaintances, I guess. He was helping me with my Potions paper. Kept calling me a dolt for not getting it."

She sneered again. "That Potions paper was really easy," she said gloatingly.

"Oh really? Have you actually even done it yet?"

"Of course I have," she answered evasively, letting me know she hadn't. Probably because she didn't get it. Idiot.

She started to leave, but turned back when she realized I was still in bed. "Aren't you going to get up?"

"No. I'm sick. I need to take the day off or else I'll puke on everyone and die."

"Ew," she said, leaving. A few minutes later, she came back in, looking annoyed. "Your stupid sickness spread to Draco because you made him help you," she snapped at me. "You really shouldn't make people be near you if you're sick."

"I got him sick? I had no idea." How interesting... He was playing hooky, too.

"Yeah, you did. He was sitting in the chair out there, and I told him I hoped I didn't get sick because of you. And he told me how you sneezed all over him, and now he's feeling bad too. So now he can't go to class either. Poor Drakie Poo." She said the last part under her breath, looking like a crazed fan-girl. "I offered to stay with him, but he said he'd rather be alone."

I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep again. I heard her huff angrily before stomping off. Everything she did made my head throb even worse. Stupid bitch...

After awhile, I got up, slowly dressed, and went out to the common room. Draco was already waiting for me, complete with bread, muffins, and coffee. Beautiful, beautiful coffee. "You're an angel," I said, grabbing the coffee from his hand. "I didn't think they even had coffee here. Everyone's obsessed with tea and pumpkin juice." I drank the coffee, smiling at the bitter, strong taste. "Ah, such beauty."

"Coffee is disgusting," he answered. "But it's good for a hangover. And so is this." He held out another cup with a strange blueish gray liquid in it. "Supposed to be able to cure any headache, according to Madame Pomfrey. I told her I had a massive cramming headache, and she gave it to me."

I smiled, taking a sip before spitting it out. "Nasty!"

"Fine, then live with the hangover headache."

I frowned before grabbing the cup and chugging its disgusting contents. They tasted like death. After that, I chugged some coffee, burning my tongue a bit but not caring. As long as I got that foul taste out of my mouth, I would be happy.

"Well you're certainly good at chugging," he said.

I smirked. "Of course I am. How do you think I got so wasted so quickly last night? The trick is to chug as much as you can possibly handle, not really letting the drink touch your tongue if possible. Then, you grab your chaser and down it. Works like a charm."

"What about the potion? Did it work like a charm?"

"Now that you mention it, yes! I now only feel slightly queasy, which bread can cure in no time. You're a doll, Malfoy."

He handed me some bread and a muffin, which I ate slowly so as not to make the nausea worse. He ate a muffin as well, looking lost in thought. We were both silent for a very long time.

"So," I finally said. "You even wear green boxers? Your Slytherin loyalty goes all the way to your undergarments?"

"I happen to simply like the color green," he said, rolling his eyes. "So do you remember the whole night, or are there blank spots?"

"Hey, I might sometimes throw up my alcohol, but I never forget what happens. I remember the whole night. Including getting puke all over my hair." The unspoken thought on both our minds felt like a physical awkwardness: We had almost kissed in that shower.

"So if I remember correctly," he said, doing his rich-boy, snobby drawl, "you tried to kiss me while I was trying to clean out your hair."

I scoffed. "As if. You tried to kiss me because you were so turned on by the way I look when I'm wet and wearing practically nothing."

"You were still covered," he said, looking at me like I was an annoying child.

"I was wearing white panties and a white unpadded bra. If you didn't notice that they were see-through from the water, you're either blind or gay."

He opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't say anything. I smirked, knowing I had him cornered. If he said he hadn't noticed, it would make him seem very gay. If he said he had, it would make him seem like a total creeper.

"What about you, Carson?" he finally said. "I saw you staring at my boxers before you started laughing inappropriately."

"Sure, Draco," I answered sarcastically. "I was totally staring at your junk."

"Judging by your face, you probably were."

"Yes, but I was drunk, and I couldn't actually see anything. You were sober, and my limited clothing pretty much didn't cover anything. So, are you a weirdo creeper, or are you super gay? Which is it?"

He gave me a cold look before answering. "Well, I would have looked, but what little I saw didn't seem very appealing. There's practically nothing there."

I gasped at him, narrowing my eyes. "Did you just call my boobs and butt little and unappealing?"

"I did."

"I'm gonna tell George you were stripping me and taking advantage of me in my drunken state. And you can just imagine what Fred and George will do to you when they hear that."

"Because I called your private areas small? Honestly, Carson, get a grip."

"You check me out, and then you have the gall to insult my body!"

"Would you have preferred I said something complimenting and inappropriate?"

"Yes!"

He rolled his eyes, looking very annoyed with the conversation. "Fine. I take it back. Your body is attractive," he deadpanned.

"And my boobs are big?"

He glared at me, but I crossed my arms and pouted. "Yes," he said with a sigh. "Your boobs are big."

I snickered. "Thanks for telling me you were creeping my body while I was showering. Now I know I'll never be safe from your curious eyes."

"I despise you," he answered, glaring at me.

"I know," I answered cheerfully. "But only because you love me so much." I grinned.

"You're a bloody pain in the ass," he muttered.

"So, what were you doing wandering the halls last night?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to walk around for a bit."

"Even though you could get in trouble?"

He smirked. "I'm part of the Inquisitorial Squad. I get people in trouble, not the other way around. I can do what I want."

"Gee, you're not pompous and power crazy at all," I said sarcastically. "So, what should we do on this glorious day off?"

He simply shrugged, looking haughty and pompous. I rolled my eyes and threw a muffin at him, which he caught, glaring at me. I smiled innocently, batting my eyelashes like some sweet little girl.

"You're not good at looking innocent," he said to me. "The crazy is too apparent."

"Oh, you're one to talk. The crazy girl inside you shows her true self all the time!"

"You're bloody demented," he muttered.

I smiled, feeling happy to be cutting classes with him.