Title: Trust
Rating: T for future chapters.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, the novels, films, books on tape, video games or future theme park. In fact, I have no connection to any of it, except some of it was filmed in the cathedral near me and I live sort of near where J.K. Rowling used to live.
Summary and pairing: The only person he trusts is the one he never thought he could. Harry/Draco.
Authors note: The italic paragraphs at the start of the story show that the event takes place at the very end of the story. The rest of it switches between the "present" and flashbacks to the summer. The switches will always be indicated like this. Please take the time to review this, your comments on the events and character portrayal are important to me. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, it's how I improve myself as a writer! But mostly, I want you to enjoy it :)
He stood before the doors to the Great Hall, palms sweaty, his heart fluttering. His throat was dry and he felt ill.
"They don't even matter," a voice to his left quietly reassured him. "It's no different to yesterday. Nobody in that room matters, except for us." He took the pale hand offered by the speaker, a final deep breath, and then Harry and Draco entered the Great Hall, together.
6 months earlier
"I can't believe you fancy her," Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief. The three had just returned from their first Defence against the Dark Arts lesson with their new teacher.
"What's not to like? She's young, pretty…"
"And I'm sure her chest helps, obviously. Oh come on Ron, don't feign innocence, I saw you gawping."
"Well, if you're not going to get them out… There are only so many girls in this school I can fantasize about."
"Is Lavender one of the elite few?"
"Don't need my imagination for that," he said with a huge smirk on his face.
"Ron! That's shocking! I'm sure Harry wouldn't be so crude."
"He better not be, his last girlfriend was my sister. Right, Harry? Oi, Harry!" Throughout their discussion, Harry had been staring into space, hardly noticing anything around him. "He's in one of his funny moods again. Flash him, Hermione, maybe then he'll snap to it."
"Ha ha. Better luck next time." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay, Harry?"
"Hmm? Oh I'm fine, never better." Hermione didn't look very convinced. "You've been acting strangely for ages."
"Yeah mate, what's going on?"
"I'm fine, honestly." Hermione and Ron exchanged looks. "Seriously, I'm fine. I just don't find discussions about our new teacher and her breasts riveting at the moment." Ron shrugged and walked off to talk about Professor Blair's upper body with Dean and Seamus.
"Harry, what's going on? Is it…" She indicated his scar.
"No, for once it's nothing to do with him."
"Is it the whole Ginny situation?"
"It's not that either. Honestly, Hermione, don't get yourself worried. I'm just feeling a bit off."
"I know, and if you just told me what was going on, we could work it out. I won't tell Ron, if that's a problem."
"No, it's just…" Harry stopped talking to watch someone walk past. Hermione spun around to see who it was, but they'd gone.
"You fancy someone, don't you?" she said, a broad smile across her face.
"If only it were that simple," he said, sighing. Hermione frowned, but decided to drop the issue.
"Right, suit yourself. Fancy getting some lunch?"
"Not hungry," he mumbled.
The summer
He hadn't planned on meeting Malfoy. It was typical that the day he decided to go to Diagon Alley without his two friends would be the day that he bumped into the one person he didn't want to see. They were sat at tables next to each other at the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry certainly hadn't planned on talking to him. But when the sun broke through the clouds, it highlighted a bruise blooming on Malfoy's cheek, marring the flawless skin.
"What the hell are you staring at, Potter?" Malfoy asked, full of contempt.
"Nothing," Harry said, going back to his Butterbeer. To his immense surprise, the Slytherin got up and sat at his table.
"Where's Weasley and Granger? Have they abandoned you? Aw, poor little Harry, none of your friends like you."
"Funny, I don't see any of your so-called friends with you, Malfoy." A tense silence followed. "Looks like we're in the same boat." Draco smiled a little at that.
"Who would've thought it? Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and Draco Malfoy, son of the most prominent Death Eater, drinking together."
"Almost makes you wish Rita Skeeter was here, doesn't it?" The two laughed. "Draco?"
"Oh, we're on first-name terms now, are we? Before you know it, we'll be coming up with pet names. What is it, sugarlump?"
Harry ignored that. "What happened?"
Draco sighed. "Could you possibly be more vague, Harry?"
He ignored that too. "I mean, the bruise. What happened?" And, almost as if someone had switched off a light, Draco's mood changed.
"Mind your own business, Potter." He finished his Butterbeer and gathered his stuff up together, then stormed out into the street, where the weather had suddenly turned. Harry, who was still looking out of the window, saw Draco walking down the street before stopping off in an alcove and pull, what he could only assume was a cigarette from a packet. He watched, confused, as Draco attempted to light it with a Muggle lighter, but the now near horizontal rain and gusts of wind kept blowing it out. Making a sudden decision that he knew he'd most likely regret, Harry got up and left the pub, heading for Malfoy.
"Need a light?" He held his wand out which had a small flame burning. Draco hesitated, then lit the cigarette and nodded a brief thanks. "Why didn't you just use magic?"
Draco took a drag, coughed and pulled a face. "I hate these Muggle cigarettes, but they're all I could find." He tapped the ash onto the floor, being careful not to get any onto Harry's scruffy trainers. "God Potter, you'd think that by the time you're 17 you'd learn to dress yourself." Harry rolled his eyes. "I didn't use magic because the Ministry's banned me from doing any until I'm in school, no thanks to my father." He took another drag and breathed away from Harry's face. "That man ruins so much for me."
"Did he…" Harry indicated the bruise.
"Wasn't it obvious enough to you that I don't want to talk about it? Honestly, you're just like a child."
"Fine, I won't ask you about it again." Draco clapped his hands sarcastically. "I was wondering, do you want to go shopping?"
"What the hell do you think we're doing now, Potter?"
"Well, you're smoking, I'm getting wet and we're both slowly developing cancer, but I understand your point. I meant, do you fancy doing some Muggle shopping?"
Malfoy laughed. "And how, exactly, do you plan on paying? As far as I remember, the currency isn't quite the same." Harry produced a card from his back pocket. Draco took it. "What is it?"
"It's a debit card. Once I realised that my aunt and uncle weren't likely to give me any money and I was in need of new clothes, I got one set up and made an arrangement with Gringotts. Every month, some of the money from my account is exchanged for Muggle money, and that goes into this account, enabling me to buy the things I need." He took the card back.
"Those clothes are new?" Draco stared in disbelief.
"Not the point. Are you up for seeing London the Muggle way?"
Draco thought for a while and then, in a tone of voice that made it clear this was killing him, accepted. "All right. Fine. But only because nobody we know is going to see us." Harry shook his head, smiling.
"Done. Follow me, pumpkin."
"Call me that and I will rip your head off."
"Sweetheart? Dumpling? Honey bunny?"
"I'm not kidding, Potter. It'd be worth going to Azkaban if it shuts you up."