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On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.
That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.
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PERFEITOOOOOOOO PERFEITOOOOOOOO PERFEITOOOOOOOO!
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A work of art
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8
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They talked about common things, sometimes just Hermione and Ron while Harry dozed, and sometimes the three of them. It made Harry yearn for those times when it was just them, just the three of them against the world—not that he wanted the War or Voldemort back.
Ron took a firm grip of his other arm. “C’mon mate, we’re making sure you get rest tonight.”
Harry let them accompany him to his room. However—
“I’ll be fine,” Harry protested, embarrassed as Hermione helped him take off his shoes and outer robes, transfigured the rest of his clothes into pyjamas, and sent a cleaning spell to his teeth.
“Harry,” Hermione huffed.
Ron drew back Harry’s bed curtains, lifting the blankets. “In ya go.”
“I’m not a little kid,” Harry muttered, but Ron’s earnest look kept him from rolling his eyes.
“We’re worried about you, mate,” Ron said, frowning. He tugged Harry forwards.
Obediently, Harry climbed into bed and lay still as Hermione and Ron tucked him in. “But I am fine—”
“Go to sleep, Harry.” Hermione smoothed his hair, drawing his eyelids down.
He must have been tired after all because he fell asleep immediately...with the image of Hermione and Ron standing by his bed, as though they were his parents.