"Potter! Potter, wake up, damn it!"
Harry opened his eyes with a groan, clutching his head in both hands, and glared at the person, who was moments ago shouting in his ear in panicked voice and shaking him by the shoulders violently.
"Malfoy!" spat Harry out angrily. "What..?" he didn't get to finish his sentence.
Malfoy suddenly clasped a hand over his mouth with an even more panicked hiss of "Be quiet, will you?" and glanced over his shoulder.
Harry sent him a death glare and tried to shake off the hand, then promptly bit it, narrowing his eyes and scrunching his nose in disgust.
"Shit!" Malfoy cursed under his breath, shaking the hand with bite marks on it, and scowled at Harry. "Are you a dog, Potter?!" he hissed indignantly, grabbed him by the shoulders, yanked up to his feet and steered to the nearest classroom, muttering more curses under his nose.
Malfoy pushed Harry inside and quickly locked the door, adding several layers of spells upon it immediately, his wand movements jerky with nerves.
Muttering "I am so going to regret this later!" under his nose, Malfoy turned to face frowning Harry again.
"Potter, you may not believe it, but I am sorry for earlier," Malfoy said scowling and motioned at Harry's temple. The big angry bruise was already forming there, Harry's head throbbing with dull pain from it. Harry winced, rubbing at his ribs, which had been also bruised, his mouth corners twitching from the unpleasant sensation in his chest. "I'd got carried away."
"What do you want from me?" still clutching at the front of his own robes with one hand, Harry raised a wand and pointed it right between Draco's eyes. The latter almost went cross-eyed in attempt to see it, the tip glowing red slightly and heat emanating from Harry's wand in unpleasant waves and washing over Draco's face.
"Look, Potter, I am going to tell you all now," Draco gulped nervously, still eyeing the wand pointed at his face, "but can you, maybe, lower your wand a bit?" he pleaded.
"No," was the short raspy reply.
"Fine," Draco pursed his lips into thin line and, moving very slowly, produced his own wand from his sleeve, where he'd stuffed it earlier. Still slowly, as if trying not to spook a jumpy hare, he dropped the wand to the floor and shuffled it with his foot towards Harry. "Here. I am unarmed, see?" he glanced at Harry, before again returning his attention to the other's wand, pointed at him.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I need you to listen to me," Draco gave a nonchalant shrug. "I figured, you'd more likely listen if I am unarmed," he let out an unsure half-smile. "So, will you listen?" he pointedly looked at Harry's wand, "and lower that? Please?" cringing and grimacing he added with even less surety.
Still eyeing him warily, Harry slowly lowered the wand.
"How can I be sure you don't have another wand somewhere on you?" narrowing his eyes in suspicion, asked Harry.
"You don't," Draco agreed. "But I don't have one," he gave another shrug and winced, his hand shooting to his opposite shoulder and hissing lowly. "That was a nasty one," he admitted, tentatively touching the ripped bloodied sleeve of his robe and scrunching his face, a shuddering breath leaving him. "I don't like the sight of my blood," he muttered, his eyes going glassy for a brief moment, before remembered himself and looked back at Harry. "If you'd like I'd make a Wizard's Oath to not hurt you," he suggested, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
"Wh-what?!" Harry widened his eyes at him in bewilderment. "You'd do that?"
"Potter, don't you get it yet? I am trying to be serious here. It's important!" Draco's voice raised in alarm.
"Start talking then," Harry snapped, and, motioning with his wand towards Draco's shoulder, added with malice: "before you faint on me."
Instead of speaking up, Malfoy let out a strained breath and ran his good hand through his usually combed hair in nervous gesture, making a mess out of loosened blond strands.
"Malfoy," Harry growled threateningly.
"I, um… You see, I didn't have much choice, "Draco mumbled. "I was..," he gulped, "I was ordered… to do something…"
"To do what?" Harry asked sharply. "By who?" he clarified, though understanding was already forming in his eyes.
"By… By Him," Draco nodded at the unasked question. "The Dark Lord," his voice dropped to a whisper.
Harry nodded as well, then jerked his chin up, urging Draco to continue.
"I… I cannot do it," his features twisted with some strange emotion, Draco murmured, lowering his eyes. Harry thought, he'd seen a glimpse of shame and uncertainty in them.
"So?" Harry prompted.
"So I tried to find another way. A way out," Draco snorted and shook his head. "As if there could be a way out of this mess," he muttered, seemingly to himself, than looked directly at Harry. "You. My only hope is you."
Harry flinched back, brows raising in surprise and disbelief.
"Me?" he echoed in a harsh voice.
"Yeah," Malfoy nodded fervently. "If anyone could defeat Him at all, that'd be you. Or He wouldn't be so hell-bent on killing you, right?" his gaze lit with hope. "Can you kill Him, Potter?"
Harry shook his head minutely and squared his shoulders in a shrug, indecision written on his face.
"I don't think I am able, Malfoy," he admitted. "He is, what, fifty years older?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Do you think a mere sixth year student has enough knowledge and power to defeat the most feared Dark Wizard of all time?"
"I don't know, Potter," muttered Malfoy, lowering his eyes in defeat. "I thought, may be..."
"What? I have some secret strategy or something?" Harry snorted. "If it was that simple..." he sighed and put away his wand under the attentive gaze of the Slytherin in front him, shaking his head. "No, Malfoy. I don't have any aces up my sleeve, unfortunately. Everyone simply assumes that, but there is nothing here," he raised his hands up, either in defeat or in demonstration of empty sleeves. "If you'd put your stakes on me, you may have just lost this bet without a battle, quite possibly," Harry grumbled darkly. "Now get your wand and let me out," he grunted. "We'd better go to the infirmary, before it's too late," Harry furrowed his brows, eyeing Malfoy's face, which had been going more pale with each passing minute.
"In a moment, Potter," Malfoy muttered, tiredly lowering himself on the nearest chair. "I haven't got to the most important bit yet."
Harry, who was already at the door, assessing the wards on it critically, turned to him with a question in his eyes.
"I'd gathered, you'd be unable to kill... um... defeat the Dark Lord," Malfoy said, suddenly more calm, than he had been earlier, and at the same time looking more drained of energy, his eyes taking a glassy look in them, dullness appearing on his pointed face. "I was just asking, if you have what it takes in you – to win over him, I mean."
"I've said already," Harry puffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes at Malfoy. "There's nothing I can do against a Wizard – any Wizard – three times my age."
"That's it, Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed triumphantly.
"What?" Harry blinked at him in confusion.
"See, I'd thought something like that, too. The only weak spot that the Dark Lord has is himself!"
"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry came back from the door and towered over Malfoy, who was slightly swaying on his chair, but nevertheless looking up at him pleadingly.
"You cannot defeat the Dark Lord, Potter, but you can try defeating Tom Riddle," Malfoy said quizzically.
"Come again?" Harry demanded, puzzled.
"Time-travel, Potter," Malfoy muttered.
Harry's brows raised almost to his hair at that, then he was lowering his face to look directly into Malfoy's.
"What are you blabbering about, Malfoy?" he asked, his wand suddenly again in his fist, its tip, like before, glowing furious red with unreleased magic earning to be unleashed.
"You should be capable enough to at least try defeating him, if he is a mere teenager himself. The Dark Lord, I mean." ignoring Harry's wand almost in his face, Malfoy fished something from inside his robe. "Here. We can then return back with this." He held out a small book, or rather a journal in thick brownish leather binding.
"What is it?" Harry examined the item in Malfoy's hands with suspicion, not touching it.
"I've found a ritual allowing to travel in time farther, then mere minutes. You can off Tom Riddle before he rises to full power and gains an upper hand in spells and knowledge," Malfoy supplied.
"I am not doing any strange rituals with you," Harry stepped back, his gaze wary. "If you want you can have the honours," he snorted. "Go to the forties and 'off' him yourself." He turned back to the door. "And now remove the wards," Harry finished over his shoulder with a hint of a threat to his voice.
"I can't kill him, Potter! That's the thing!" Malfoy exclaimed with despair. "I was not trained for it," he seemingly deflated, slumping down in the chair.
"Neither was I!" Harry snarled, whirling around. "I don't go killing people around! I am not a murderer!" he shouted enraged. "I don't think I can kill Voldemort, much less – his teenaged version, who hasn't done anything yet!" He rubbed at his eyes furiously. "You'd better forget this whole idea and crawl back to your Master, Malfoy," Harry's tone returned to more calm one. "I am not buying your rubbish about switching sides," he snorted. "And go to Madame Pomfrey, already," he winced, pointing at Malfoy's shoulder with his chin. "I don't know any spells to heal this. Or any other wounds, at that matter," he muttered and went to the door, carefully touching his swollen temple and grimacing at the sensations.
"Too late, Potter," Malfoy called out behind him. "Or rather, too early," he corrected.
"What do you mean?" sensing a sudden change in Slytherin's tone, Harry tensed, his hand half-raised, ready to cancel Malfoy's wards at the door. He glanced back over his shoulder at Malfoy, who shrugged.
"We're already here," the Slytherin said simply.
"Where?"
"Not 'where', 'when'," Malfoy responded as a way of explanation. "If I hadn't make a mistake, it should be October, 31. Of 1943." He looked at Harry with daring, defiant expression.
"What?!" Harry was outraged. "You'd dragged me to the forties already?! I didn't agree to it!" his eyes flashed dangerously.
"I didn't have other options," Malfoy had the decency to look ashamed. "I didn't want to bring Death Eaters to school, nor did I want to kill Dumbledore, as I was ordered to," he closed his eyes in tiredness and defeat. "You can shout all you want at me, Potter, but I'm not taking us back before you do something with that madman. I am no killer myself," Draco swallowed with difficulty. "I think he knows this, too. May he planned for me to fail trying, don't know. Maybe it amuses him to issue orders, which are impossible to be fulfilled, and kill those, who failed him. Frankly, I don't care."
"Malfoy, you're an idiot!" Harry snapped. "If you learned of the Dark Lord's name, you should have found out, that he was a genius, too! Even at sixteen, he was a force to be reckoned with! I hardly think I have a chance against Tom Riddle, either," he looked at Malfoy pointedly. "And haven't you heard, that one shouldn't meddle with time? It's too dangerous, you could be wiping yourself from existence in the process," Harry widened his eyes for impact.
"I am fine with it, Potter," Draco sighed. "Don't say that you are not, having a chance to put a stop to that madness," Malfoy added, seeing indecision flickering in Potter's eyes for a second. "Listen, if we're already here, why not to try it? Even if we don't manage to stop him, I'd rather stay here, then return," Malfoy looked up at Harry. "I daresay, you'd want the same, too," he murmured quieter, hiding the journal inside his robes. "We don't need to kill him. Maybe, just swaying him on his path would be enough," he muttered thoughtfully.
"How..?" Harry's head snapped up at his words, but he cut off, his face attaining the thoughtful expression as well. "Maybe," he started slowly, "we can..." Harry trailed off unsure, then shook his head. "It's not going to work, Malfoy," he grumbled. "I don't think it would," with another shake of his head he almost whispered.
"What are you thinking of, Potter?" Malfoy demanded harshly.
"Dumbledore," Harry began, "he was convinced, that I have..." he abruptly closed his mouth shut, pursing his lips. "I don't think I'll tell you," his suspicion returned with full force, when Malfoy's back straightened, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. "I don't know that you won't run to your Master," he sneered the last word, "with that information."
Malfoy sighed exasperatedly.
"I will not! What can I do to prove to you, that I won't run to him with this?!" he exclaimed in distress.
"You can give me that Wizard's Oath now," Harry suggested snidely. "Not that I'd trust you not to make a loophole in it, mind you," he added acerbically.
Malfoy nodded eagerly.
"Okay. You can word it yourself, so there wouldn't be any loopholes," he supplied carefully.
Harry furrowed his brow in contemplation and felt silent for a while, mulling over the possible words in his head.
After almost five minutes of pregnant silence, his eyes finally lit with enthusiasm.
"Fine." And he felt silent again.
Malfoy fidgeted slightly under his intense stare, but not dared to say anything.
Another couple of minutes passed.
Then Harry narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin.
"You shall not harm me in any way, physical or magical, while we are here, in this time, but shall assist in all the ways possible to achieve our mutual goal of stopping Voldemort and preventing the Wizarding War of the nineties," he offered.
"Okay, I got it," Malfoy breathed out. He moved from the chair to retrieve his wand from the floor and walked up to Harry, then swished his wand in an arch above their heads and started on the words of the Oath: "I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, the heir to the Malfoy's line, swear on my magic that I shall not harm Harry James Potter in any way, being it either physical or magical, while we reside in the nineteen-forties or at any other time, and I shall assist the said Harry James Potter in all ways and means within limits of my human and magical powers to achieve our mutual aim of stopping the Dark Lord Voldemort, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, from doing any harm, be it either physical, psychical or magical, to all those, residing in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds, and preventing the Wizarding War of the nineteen-nineties; also, if the need arises I shall put my life on the line in exchange for the life of the said Harry James Potter and in order to achieve our mutual aim." He let out a shuddering breath and finished: "So mote it be."
Harry was staring at him with even the more intensity, then before, his jaws moving tensely. He blinked, when Draco finished and echoed him: "So mote it be."
They both repeated Draco's earlier motion with their wands, raising them above their heads and swishing in wide arches. The tips of the wands let out white sparks, which gathered in a glowing white band of light, first circling the wands, then shifting to the heads of the teens and circling them, too. Lastly the band expanded, transforming to a bridge between their chests and dissipated into them, just opposite their hearts, after separating right in the middle.
Then Harry rounded on Draco with indignant baring of his teeth: "Why did you changed it?!"
Draco dropped his wand on the floor, it cluttering merrily on the stone floor, and gave an uncomfortable shrug, before going back to his chair and collapsing in it with a soft tired sigh.
"I just thought it more fitting. More accurate. And I really don't want for any harm to come to you, but rather to help you – be it here, or in our time. There was that loophole there, you'd been afraid of. I could have ran off with your secrets the minute we set foot in our time," he smiled a bit sheepishly.
"Fine," Harry grumbled. "Now, I was saying, there is something we can try. Try, mind you. I am not sure it can work, but at least we can use the situation to our advantage."
"And what it is?" Draco inquired, narrowing his eyes.
"Not now," Harry shook his head, then pointed towards Draco's shoulder. "This looks uglier with any blood drop," he reminded.
Draco winced.
"I can manage," he uttered, gritting his teeth. "Tell me."
"If I tell you, will you bring down the wards at the door?" Harry asked in a tired tone. "If you didn't notice I have my own injuries to attend to, as well. Thanks to you."
"Deal. Now tell me." Draco demanded.
Harry rolled his eyes at him.
"Dumbledore believes that my strength in this is my love," he made a face. "I had thought that was a lot of rubbish. But now that we're here..." he trailed off uncomfortable, averting his eyes. "I don't know how to use this against him, yet. Maybe, it's still a lot of rubbish and we don't have anything at all. But we need to start somewhere, and as you gave me no choice," Harry shrugged. "And now, will you, please, bring down the wards? Before you faint?" he added, when Malfoy sank in his chair, all hope seemingly leaving him, his face so white, it seemed almost translucent.
"Love?" Malfoy snorted weakly. "And here I thought you really did have some secret!" he whispered, his limp body going so weak, it threatened to slip from the chair.
"Malfoy!" barked Harry, launching forward, and grabbed the Slytherin at the last moment, before he could fall to the floor completely. Putting Draco's uninjured hand around his own shoulders, Harry lifted him upright with a grunt and led him to the door. "The incantation, Malfoy!" he growled. "The wards!"
"My wand," Draco muttered weakly. "My magic's the key," he gritted, when Harry shot him a nasty look.
"What an idiot!" Harry muttered darkly, before promptly dropping Draco beside the door and going back to where Draco's wand still remained on the floor. He returned with the item in question, grumbling something along the lines of "not your babysitter" under his nose, and held the wand out to Draco: "Here."
Draco accepted the wand with a tired sigh, but managed to cancel the wards only on his second try.
"Hope, they'd first tend to sick ones, and then ask questions," Harry mumbled to himself, seeing Draco collapsing with a soft groan after the last movement of his wand and a soft click of the door lock opening.
Harry cursed under his breath, leaning down to Malfoy and again swinging his hand up and around his own shoulders, then lifted the limp body up.
"Stubborn moron," he grumbled, "'m not going to carry you," but despite his own words he began to slowly drag Malfoy towards the Hospital Wing, muttering insults and crude words in the process.
They almost reached their destination, when Harry suddenly heard a quiet muttering:
"Are you even gay, Pot-head?"
"What?!" Harry spluttered with indignation, dropping Malfoy on the floor again in his surprise. He opened and closed his mouth several times, no sound escaping him, before he finally found his voice. "What did you say?!" he snarled, lowering down his face at the level with Malfoy's own.
"Potter, were you going to hook the Dark Lord with some poor girl, or what?" Draco drawled, not seemingly bothered by their position. "'Love', you say," he snorted disbelievingly and shook his head. "Or were you under the impression, that I would willingly spread my legs for him?" he made a grimace of disgust. "Just so you know, I already have someone!" he said haughtily.
"Someone?" Harry blinked in confusion.
"Yeah. Someone. I don't think it'd work just because of that Oath. That's not 'love', that's obligation. The feeling," Draco sneered the word, "should be mutual," still scrunching his face he waived a hand toward Harry. "Hence my question. Are you even gay?" he repeated.
Harry looked at him with horror. Gulped. Shook his head, then gave a tiny little nod.
Draco quirked an amused brow at that, smirking.
"I… I don't know, may be, never tried" Harry admitted quietly, surprising even himself by that statement, it seemed, judging by his bewildered look.
"We can work with that," Draco finally said after a long minute of silent contemplation.
Harry glanced at him nervously, then hold out his hand, pursing his lips.
"Infirmary?" he suggested.
Draco sighed, but allowed himself to be lifted up.
Supporting him by the waist, and having allowed to put a hand around his shoulders, like before, Harry led him the rest of the way towards the Hospital Wing, muttering again "hope, it's treatment first, questions later".