Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. A/N: This is the rewritten and revised version of One Step Closer, which I only haven't deleted because my reviewers were quite lovely. Anyway, this story will NOT be the same as the original. It's built on the same foundation, but it's certainly different in a great number of ways. So, without further adieu, enjoy the story. :)
I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the murmur of chatter of my dorm mates. I caught snippets of their conversation, but wasn't exactly what you'd call interested.
"…uncle kicked him out…" Zabini.
"…living with the blood traitors…" Nott.
"…he's so unwanted…" Goyle, followed by laughter from the four of them.
Of course, it was quite obvious who my friends were talking about: Harry Potter. The Chosen One had been kicked out on his arse and, with nowhere else to turn, asked to stay with the Weasleys until he became of age in a year. Naturally, they'd agreed. After all, he was shagging their daughter and best mates with their youngest son; they weren't about to turn him away.
Besides, the Weasleys thrived on the residual fame they received from Potter's fans. They loved having the Boy Who Lived in their care and under their protection; it made them seem important. Of course, the Weasleys weren't even remotely important, not to anybody with any real influence in the magical community, anyway.
Sighing, I rolled over in my four poster bed and willed my mind to slow. I was having a hard time sleeping lately, in no small part due to my reluctance. I'd been having horrific nightmares for months and I slowly just stopped sleeping in an attempt to ward of my demons.
School had only been back in for three days, but already word of Potter's misfortunes had spread like wildfire. I'd heard several variations of the story, one that included Potter jinxing his uncle and giving him bat ears. No doubt that Lovegood had spread that one; nobody else in school could possibly be stupid enough to believe it, and with her father writing that bloody magazine, it was all too likely to be one their concoctions.
But, as expected, The Golden Boy took it all in stride. The rumors didn't affect him in the least. That little fifth year that follows him around taking pictures has been bothering him about it since Potter arrived; every day he asks about a new rumor he heard. But none of it bothered him. In the halls, he, Weasley, and Granger are always laughing and talking together, as if nothing out of the norm happened this past summer.
I grunted in frustration in slammed my fist into my pillow. Sleep had evaded me yet again, and I was tired of thinking about Potter and his bloody friends. He was on my mind a lot as of late, and I was sick of it.
So I threw open the curtains and rolled out of bed. I was walking toward the door to the Common Room when somebody spoke.
"Oi, Malfoy," Nott called after me. "Where're you going?"
"For a walk," I told him, exiting the room.
I walked into the Common Room, shivering slightly and wishing I'd remembered to grab my cloak. I did remember my wand though, and I cast a dimming charm on myself. When one makes himself dim, he is not invisible, mind you. But as long as he sticks to the shadows and does nothing to draw attention to himself, nobody will notice him. If they happen to look in his direction, their eyes will quickly advert themselves to the area around him.
Anyway, so I set off about the castle, not really sure of where I was going. Really, I just needed to get out of the dormitory and away from those buffoons. My summer had been… hectic to say the least, and I had no desire to be around pompous arses at the moment.
I had just reached the entrance hall when I heard footsteps behind me. I did not turn for fear of drawing any attention to myself and instead kept walking. Soon enough, I saw Nott passing me, mumbling to himself.
"Now where the hell did he get off to?" he murmured. He turned a corner and was out of sight.
As I approached the doors to the grounds, I couldn't help but wonder why Nott had been following me. He and I certainly weren't the best of friends. We weren't the worst of friends, either, but we shared no close bond. In fact, I knew very little about Nott's personal life.
I shook my head as I entered the chilly September air. Stars shone brightly above my head and the moon was sitting low in the sky. A light breeze ruffled the top of my pajama shirt as I strolled down toward the Lake. As the wind picked up, I shoved my hands into my pocket and felt my body shiver.
I approached the Lakefront at a brisk stride, but stopped dead when I saw a mop of messy black hair. Well, when opportunity presents itself…
"Out for a late night stroll, Potter?" I sneered, walking up beside him. He gasped and looked up at me in surprise.
"W-What are you doing out here, Malfoy?" he demanded. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks damp; I realized he must have been crying.
"Oh, just taking a walk," I smirked.
"Well you'd better hurry back to the dungeons before one of your cronies realizes you've gone," he shot at me.
"They already know I've left," I said. "But I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you've been out here blubbering like a little girl."
"I have not been blubbering," he snapped.
"Oh come off it," I sneered. "Your eyes are watery and your cheeks are wet, so unless you've been putting your face into the Lake, you've been crying."
"Like you care," he spat. "You just want something to hold over me. Just shove off."
"I told you," I said, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's got the Golden Boy in such a huff."
At this, Potter stood, face now level with mine. His fists were clenched, and he was just inches away from me. At this distance, I could see how pink and puffy his eyes were, and there was no mistaking it now that he had in fact been crying.
"You want to know what's wrong, Malfoy?" he snarled. "What's wrong is that I have to live with my best friend because my only living family turned me out. What's wrong is that there's a girl in love with me that I could never love back, and now I have to see her every single day of my life. What's wrong is that none of the rumors have even come close to the real reason I was kicked out. Nobody knows what their Chosen One does when he's alone. Nobody knows what their savior failed to do this summer."
"And what did you fail to do, Potter?" I asked with a smirk. Suddenly, he stepped back and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. I watched curiously until he held up his wrist in the moonlight.
Two vertical lines made their way from the base of his palm all the way to the crook of his elbow.
"My cousin found me," Potter told me, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. "Ran out of the room screaming like a girl. I heard him puking in the hallway; I guess the blood was too much for him. Finally, my aunt heard the noise and hurried upstairs, only to find me ruining her carpet. She went and got a towel to wrap around my arm until the paramedics arrived. After they'd sewn me up at the hospital, I got a visit from my uncle, who told me to never step foot in his house again."
I considered the information I'd just been given. Was it possible? The hero of the wizarding world was suicidal? Such a thing would have been absolutely unheard of. And a bigger question arose: did I dare tell anyone of this… revelation?
"What about you?" Potter asked.
"What about me?" I responded.
"Oh come off it, Malfoy," he sneered. "Of all the people I've met, you're the most likely to try something like this."
"How do you figure?" I demanded, puffing my chest out slightly in indignation.
"With your family? Anybody'd be crazy not to try and off themselves," he said.
"Not that it's any of your business, Potter," I snarled. "But I have my own collection of scars."
There was a brief pause where Potter looked down at the ground and for a moment, I thought he'd started crying again.
Finally, he looked back up at me, his emerald eyes shining with need.
"C-Can I see them?" he asked.
"Trust me when I say that you don't want to," I murmured.
"No, I do, really," he said quickly. "Please," he added imploringly.
"Alright, fine," I sighed. Truth be told, I'd wanted someone to show for a long while. But there was never anybody who I'd thought would understand. And I certainly never thought I'd show Potter. "But you'll have to come closer."
He obliged and I started unbuttoning my top.
"What are you doing?" he asked as I shrugged it off.
"Showing you," I shivered. "Look here." I pointed at my stomach, to the rows and rows and tiny horizontal scars. My body was shaking and shivering as the cold breeze bit at my skin. Without warning, I felt Potter's hand carefully trace the marks. I leaned into his touch; his skin emanated warmth and I wanted to feel that warmth all over.
"How long have you been…" he trailed off.
"Since I was twelve," I told him quietly.
His eyes shot up to mine, searching for something.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I never knew. I'd never have been so cruel to you if I'd have known."
I smiled bitterly. "Nobody knew. Nobody knows. You're the only one. And god only knows why I told you."
"You told me because," he paused and laughed. "We're the same, Malfoy."
I laughed, too. "We're hardly the same," I told him. "You're Harry Potter. You're the Chosen One, the Golden Boy. You're everyone's savior from the coming darkness. And I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, renowned Death Eater and proud pureblood. I'm a horrible, pathetic excuse for a human being."
"You're not horrible," Harry told me firmly. "You're a product of your raising. It's hardly your fault that your father is a supporter of Voldemort. You were brought up to believe that blood matters, that wealth matters."
"Yeah, I was brought up that way," I muttered. "But it's no excuse for how I've treated you, how I've treated Weasley, especially how I've treated Granger."
"Look, none of that matters," Potter said quickly.
"Of course it matters!" I snapped. "I haven't the slightest as to why you're even talking to me. Or why I'm talking to you for that matter. You've never wanted anything to do with me, not since we first met. How's anything different now?"
"Everything's different now!" he exclaimed. "Every single thing is different now! You're not some horrid Death Eater trying to kill me now. You don't despise everything I stand for now. You're not a bad person now."
I snorted. "Oh come off it, Potter. That's not why. I was never that horrible person you thought I was. I pretended to be, but it was never me. I never despised you or what you stood for. And I made some really horrible choices, but I was never a bad person. So tell me, what's the real reason here? Why are you honestly doing this?"
"I told you," he said.
"No, what you told me was what you thought I wanted to hear. I want to know, right here, right now. What the hell has changed?"
"You wanna know what's changed?" Potter demanded. "I'll show you what's changed."
He started unzipping his trousers and I had an automatic reaction.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.
"Oh calm down," he sneered. "I'm just trying to show you something. Keep your trousers on."
"Maybe you should take your own advice!" I exclaimed.
Suddenly his pants were around his ankles and he was lifting his boxers slightly, so that his upper thigh was exposed. For a brief second, I thought he was going to show me his dick, but instead I saw a battlefield. Brown scars were scattered haphazardly across the entire top of his thigh. There were scars on top of scars, and recent marks on top of those. I gasped at the sight.
"This is what's changed, Malfoy," he said to me. "You don't just show someone this, don't just let someone see that part of you that you keep hidden from the rest of the world, and expect everything to be exactly the same. It can't be the same."
I pondered this. "So I've never shown anyone, and you've never shown anyone," I said. "So the only people that know are each other. Does this make us… friends?"
"Yeah, I suppose it does," he laughed. "Funny way to make a friend, isn't it?"
"I'll say," I laughed back. "Probably one of the oddest friendships ever in existence. Especially since you know, it's kind of a secret."
"A secret?" he questioned, furrowing his brow. "Why would it be a secret?"
"Well I can't very well go back to the dorms and say to Crabbe and Goyle, 'hey, guess what? Potter and I are friends, now.' Can you even imagine the reaction I'd get? I'd be shunned from my own house!" I explained.
"So basically, you're ashamed of me?" he demanded hotly.
"No, I'm not. I've nothing against you. The rest of Slytherin, though? They hate you," I told him. "And I imagine I'm not too popular in the Gryffindor house."
"No, you're not," he conceded. "But if I told them that we were friends they'd be fine with it, and fine with you."
I snorted. "That's ridiculous! Nobody in that house would be fine with me. Potter, our houses are rivals, and that rivalry is imprinted on the house members. And we're the leaders of our houses; do you really think anybody in Slytherin will accept you? Or that anyone in Gryffindor will accept me? Be honest with yourself."
He thought for a moment. "No."
"Exactly," I said. "We may not have a problem with each other, but nobody else is going to come around."
"So what are we supposed to do?" he asked. "Just supposed to pretend to hate each other? Because that would defeat us being friends in the first place."
"We'll act normally around everyone else, but when we're not in public, we'll be friends," I suggested.
He didn't seem to like this idea. "I'm not used to hiding my friendships," he said. "I don't want to."
"You have to," I told him gently. "You've never been friends with a Slytherin before. There are different rules for us." I was smirking at him.
He grinned at me. "Fine. But we have to set up times to meet regularly."
"That's easy. We'll meet in the Pitch every night. One benefit of being Captains of our teams," I smirked.
"Alright," he agreed. "But I've got to get back to bed before Ron notices I'm gone. He'll come looking for me."
"Yeah, I should be going, too," I commented. I watched Potter pick up a silvery cloak from the ground and wrap it around himself. He was gone. Suddenly, it hit me.
Invisibility Cloak.
"So that's how you've always managed to sneak around the castle!" I laughed. I heard him laugh in response. I performed my dimming charm again, and together we set off toward the castle.
At the entrance hall, we parted ways and I headed back toward the dungeons. I was at the entrance to the Common Room when I ran into Nott. Literally.
"What the – " he whipped around, but I was already back against the wall, shrouded in shadow. He couldn't see me. He turned back around and opened up the entrance and I followed him inside and up the stairs into the dormitory.
I crawled into bed without him ever noticing me.
The next morning, I walked down to Potions, thinking of the encounter I'd had with Potter the night before. The thought made me smile, and the smile didn't go unnoticed by my party.
"What are you grinning about?" Zabini demanded.
"I hardly think that's any of your business," I retorted. He sneered at me, and we continued on without any more questions.
We arrived at the door and stood around, waiting for Snape to arrive. Potter, Granger, and Weasley were already there, and Potter shot me a brief look, which also did not go unnoticed by my party.
"What was that all about, Draco?" Pansy asked, sneering at Potter.
"What are you talking about?" I asked her innocently, raising an eyebrow. "What was what about?"
"Potter just looked at you," she explained as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Your point?" I asked.
"My point? Draco, Potter looked at you like you were friends or something!" she whispered indignantly. "Aren't you going to say something?"
I laughed. "What do you want me to say, Pans? 'Don't look in my direction because my friends think we've become secret friends.' That's ridiculous."
Pansy hung her head. "I suppose that does sound stupid," she conceded. She looked like I'd struck her down with my comment.
My group chatted a bit about things completely irrelevant to anybody under the age of ten, but then something horrible happened.
"I saw you out at the Lake last night, Potter," Nott said loudly, drawing the attention of everyone. "Saw you sitting out there weeping like a little girl."
I turned around to see his sneering face and shot a quick look at Potter. His face had gone red, and Granger and Weasley both looked shocked.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Nott," Potter said through clenched teeth. He chanced a look at me, and I could see how frightened he was. I knew I had to do something, but I wasn't sure what to do.
"Oh, don't you? No? Can't remember? Maybe Malfoy could enlighten us all then? Since he was down there with you and all," Nott turned to me, a smirk on his face.
I raised an eyebrow curiously as I faced him. I was slumped against the cold stone wall with my hands in my pockets, and even though my heart rate had picked up, I was the epitome of calm. At Nott's comment, all attention had shifted to me, including Potter's.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're going on about," I replied coolly.
"But don't you?" he sneered. "Standing out there, so close to him, you without your shirt, him with his trousers 'round his ankles?"
A gasp rang through the crowd, and a smirk crept onto my lips.
"You've concocted quite the fantasy, Nott," I said coldly. "But it's rather convenient that you don't have any sort of proof." I paused. "What would I be doing alone with Potter?" I sneered.
"You're not denying anything, are you, Malfoy?" he smirked.
"I've nothing to deny," I replied evenly.
"Tell me, Draco," he continued as if I hadn't said anything. "Did you get on your knees for him?"
Potter's hand instinctively reached for his wand, but one look at the fury written on my face kept him at bay; he knew this wasn't his battle.
"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you," I threatened. My fingers had been clasped around my wand the entire time, and I quickly pulled it out and had it pressed against Nott's throat.
"Did I strike a nerve, Drakie?" he sneered. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously up and down his neck. I pushed the wand further into his flesh.
A hand on my shoulder kept me from performing the curse that had been dancing on the tip of my tongue. I turned, without moving my wand, to see Potter.
"Let him go, Malfoy," he said, teeth still clenched.
"Get off of me, Potter," I sneered.
"I said let him go," Potter repeated, anger rising.
"What are you doing, Harry?" Weasley called. "Let Malfoy have him! Who cares what happens to Nott!"
"Shut up, Ron!" Potter snarled. "Nobody will be cursed today. Not over some git's lying."
I rolled my eyes and my lip curled. I shoved Potter out of the way and cursed Nott, sending him flying backwards into the stone wall. Blood dripped from his nose, and he looked disoriented. I straightened my robes, placed my wand back inside, and greeted Snape at the door.
Nobody dared name me the culprit when Snape asked about Nott's predicament, but Potter volunteered to escort him to the hospital wing. Unfortunately, Snape didn't trust Potter, and I got roped into going as well.