Chapter One
Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure,
men love in haste, but they detest at leisure -Lord Byron
Draco stood outside the door of the potions room, trying to catch his breath. He pressed into the wall until he could feel the stones digging an imprint into his back. The pain was a relief. It distracted him from the horrible pain in is side. He now had two pains and couldn't focus fully on either one. But soon the pain in his back faded, and all his attention was focused on the burning pain in his side.
He had been standing outside of the potions room for the last five minutes, trying to get the pain under control. He couldn't let people see him like this. They would notice, then they would ask questions. He knew that he could fool most people, with his cold eyes and blank face, but not Snape. He rested his head against the cool wall of the dungeon.
I can't do this. I have to go back to my room. I'll just tell him I was sick. I just need to rest for a few hours, then I'll be fine. He stood up slowly, pausing a moment, to draw in a shaky breath.
At the same moment, Harry, Hermione and Ron, were hurrying on their way to potions. They knew that if they were late, Snape would probably take a lot of points, he really disliked them. Harry rushed around the corner, just slightly ahead of the other two, and ran straight into Draco.
With a hiss of pain Draco stepped back, cradling a hand to his ribs.
Harry being the Boy Who Lived to Be Absurdly Courteous, was about to apologize--even though it was Malfoy--when Ron spoke.
"Bloody hell Malfoy, we all know your only pleasure in life is to be a pain in Harry's arse, but waiting around corners to run into him is a little much." Ron smiled, looking proud that he had said something more articulate to Malfoy, than his usuall, shut up you bloody git.
But not even the shock of that could tear Draco's gaze from Harry's. Draco couldn't believe that Harry Potter had just run into him. Harry Potter, whose very existence made his miserable. And now the git had the nerve to run into him. I just can't get away from him. He's everywhere.
Draco walked up to Harry, until their faces were inches apart. Close enough that Harry could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Wait a minute, am I sniffing Malfoy? Before Harry had a chance to properly examine that thought, Draco spoke in a low voice.
"I hate you," he said as he pushed Harry against the wall, his vice like grip making Harry wince. "Why won't you just die?" At that moment he wanted nothing more in the world.
That snapped Harry out of whatever spell he was under, and since his upper arms were held firmly against the wall, he grabbed around Draco's waist, preparing to push him away.
The second Harry touched him, he drew in a sharp breath. He saw Harry's puzzled expression through the net of white spots that were starting to cloud his vision. As the burning pain shot through his body, he managed to spit out, "Damn you, Potter," before passing out.
Draco slumped forward against Harry in a tangle of awkward limbs. Harry had caught him under the arms, and Draco's bony chin was now resting against his collarbone.
Harry stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. But it was either pick him up or let him fall, and being the aforementioned boy who ECT. , the choice was obvious. As he swept his arm under Draco's legs and lifted him, he was surprised at how light he was. His arms ached where Draco had held them, he wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises tomorrow.
Ron and Hermione watched him in shock, but it was nothing compared to the commotion caused when he walked into Potions, with Draco in his arms.
At the sound of gasps from Slytherins and Gryffindors, Professor Snape looked up from the homework he'd been grading.
When he saw Harry holding an obviously unconscious Draco, he saw red. Draco was his favorite student and he despised Potter. He always got away with everything. Well he won't get away with this, Snape thought as he stalked quickly to their side, I'll make sure of it.
"What have you done to him Potter?" he said through gritted teeth. "I swear I'll see you expelled for this."
"I didn't do anything Professor." He backed up a little as he said this, bumping into Ron and Hermione, who were just inside the door behind him, he'd never seen Snape this angry before. "He slammed me against the wall, so I pushed him away, and he..he fainted," Harry finished lamely. It didn't sound very believable, even to him, and he'd been there.
Snape looked down at him in disgust. Did Potter really think he was that stupid? He could at least have made up a better story. This one was just pathetically unbelievable. "You expect me to believe, that Mr. Malfoy fainted, merely because you..pushed him? I can see how you'd think I would believe such a pitifully obvious lie, considering the other teachers would believe any word the great boy who lived condescends to say to them." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "But unfortunately for you, I'm not a member of your fan club. I'll see that you're punished for this, if it's the last thing I do."
Harry just looked at him speechless. He'd never seen Snape this angry before. Ron chose that unfortunate moment to speak up, Hermione having been unsuccessful in her attempts to restrain him.
"But he's not lying Professor, Hermione and me both saw everything."
Snape turned slowly toward Ron. "I don't think I asked for your opinion Weasley, ten points."
"But . . . ," Ron sputtered indignantly.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley? Did you have something to add?"
"No Professor," he said through gritted teeth, realizing a little late that he could only make things worse.
Snape's attention snapped back to Harry. "Mr. Potter, you come with me, class do the assignment on the board."
He swept out of the classroom, and with a helpless glance at Hermione and Ron, Harry followed after him.
After a few minutes of stony silence, Harry heard a noise and looked down at Draco
Draco slowly blinked open his eyes. He looked at Harry for a moment, wondering how he'd come to be cradled in his arms, but the pain came back and he could barely think. All he knew was that he was in pain, and it was Harry's fault. It was always Harry's fault. "You will be the death of me Potter," he said drawing in his breath sharply.
Professor Snape turned quickly around, coming to their side, and looking down at Draco with concern.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you all right?"
Draco's only answer was another gasp of pain.
Snape narrowed his eye's and said a spell that Harry had never heard. A purplish light appeared above Draco's ribs. Snape's gaze angrily met Harry's. "Just a little push, Potter? Is that right? I'd hate to see what you consider a real push, since this 'little one' broke his ribs."
"But I didn't Professor, I swear," he said, but Snape ignored him, saying a pain relieving spell that Harry remembered from his many trips to the hospital wing. But nothing happened, Draco continued to cry out in pain. A look of horrible realization dawned on Snape's face. He quickly pointed his wand at Draco, saying Mobulius corpus. Harry let go as Draco's body floated in the air. Draco's cries of pain slowly subsided as the pressure from his ribs was removed.
"Mr. Potter," Snape started to say, but Harry cut him off.
" Professor, I swear I didn't break his ribs, I barely touched him."
"I know," he said softly, "you don't have the knowledge to do this spell. Even if you did, you wouldn't be cruel enough to use it."
"What spell?" he asked tentatively, relieved that Snape believed him, but curious as to what the spell could be.
Snape's head snapped up and he said in a sharp tone, "None of your business, Mr. Potter. Return to class. I will take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."
Harry started to protest, but stopped himself, being just a little smarter than Ron.
As he took his seat in Potions, he shook his head when Hermione asked him what happened. He sat staring off into space, a cold feeling in his chest. He thought of the expression on Malfoy's face when he'd whispered. You will be the death of me. Somehow, Harry thought he meant it.
It took all the restraint Harry had to wait until the end of the day. He wanted to find out about the spell Malfoy had on him. He told Hermione and Ron what Snape had said, and they were as baffled as him as to what the spell could be. Harry didn't tell them about what Draco had said, and he certainly didn't tell them about the sniffing.
He waited until everyone in his room was asleep, before sneaking down to the infirmary, under the cover of his invisibility cloak. Just as he entered, he heard a voice off to his right, and went to investigate.
"Headmaster," Snape said in an aggravated tone, "with all due respect, I've only seen Voldemort and deatheaters use that spell. It's very obvious it was Lucius who did it. I doubt that Voldemort made a house call just to break the boy's ribs and spell them so they couldn't be healed magically."
Harry felt the first stirrings of pity for Draco, and a little bit of understanding.
"I know Severus, but we cannot help the boy until he asks, and you know as well as I how likely that is."
"We can't just send him home to be beaten. I won't allow it," Snape spits out.
For the first time in his life, Harry started to like Snape.
"Then you must convince him to ask for help. You are the one person he might listen to," Dumbeldore said with a sigh.
Snape swept out of the room, and Harry narrowly escaped being swept up with him. He stalked over toward a bed on the opposite side of the wing. Harry followed behind him quietly. Snape's face was fierce as he whispered to the boy lying in the bed. "I will make you listen. I will." Then, with one last look, filled with some indescribable emotion, he turned and left.
Harry turned back to the bed, looking at his enemy, the boy who had made his friends and his life miserable for six years. He thought of all the rotten things that Malfoy had done to him over the years, and all he'd done in turn. He had used to think that he hated Malfoy, but really it was only strong dislike. When he'd truly felt hatred for the first time, he'd realized that what he felt for Malfoy paled in comparison. And as much as he still disliked him, it was tempered somewhat now, by pity.
He saw that Malfoy had turned over in bed, his knuckles white as he clenched the edge of his pillow. Harry heard him whispering. When he heard what he was saying, he assumed he was talking about his father, but when he added a name to his feverish mantra, Harry's blood ran cold. "I hate you. I hate you Potter."
That night Harry tossed and turned in his bed. Those words kept running through his head. How could Malfoy's hatred for him be more than for his father? Harry wasn't the one beating him. He'd never done anything to him to merit that kind of loathing.
How could Malfoy hate him, when he didn't hate Malfoy? Of the two he felt he had more cause to hate Draco. What had he done to make Malfoy hate him so much? That question lay heavily on his thoughts all night. He finally resolved that he would find out. With that thought he slipped off to sleep. Tomorrow he would know.
Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure,
men love in haste, but they detest at leisure -Lord Byron
Draco stood outside the door of the potions room, trying to catch his breath. He pressed into the wall until he could feel the stones digging an imprint into his back. The pain was a relief. It distracted him from the horrible pain in is side. He now had two pains and couldn't focus fully on either one. But soon the pain in his back faded, and all his attention was focused on the burning pain in his side.
He had been standing outside of the potions room for the last five minutes, trying to get the pain under control. He couldn't let people see him like this. They would notice, then they would ask questions. He knew that he could fool most people, with his cold eyes and blank face, but not Snape. He rested his head against the cool wall of the dungeon.
I can't do this. I have to go back to my room. I'll just tell him I was sick. I just need to rest for a few hours, then I'll be fine. He stood up slowly, pausing a moment, to draw in a shaky breath.
At the same moment, Harry, Hermione and Ron, were hurrying on their way to potions. They knew that if they were late, Snape would probably take a lot of points, he really disliked them. Harry rushed around the corner, just slightly ahead of the other two, and ran straight into Draco.
With a hiss of pain Draco stepped back, cradling a hand to his ribs.
Harry being the Boy Who Lived to Be Absurdly Courteous, was about to apologize--even though it was Malfoy--when Ron spoke.
"Bloody hell Malfoy, we all know your only pleasure in life is to be a pain in Harry's arse, but waiting around corners to run into him is a little much." Ron smiled, looking proud that he had said something more articulate to Malfoy, than his usuall, shut up you bloody git.
But not even the shock of that could tear Draco's gaze from Harry's. Draco couldn't believe that Harry Potter had just run into him. Harry Potter, whose very existence made his miserable. And now the git had the nerve to run into him. I just can't get away from him. He's everywhere.
Draco walked up to Harry, until their faces were inches apart. Close enough that Harry could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Wait a minute, am I sniffing Malfoy? Before Harry had a chance to properly examine that thought, Draco spoke in a low voice.
"I hate you," he said as he pushed Harry against the wall, his vice like grip making Harry wince. "Why won't you just die?" At that moment he wanted nothing more in the world.
That snapped Harry out of whatever spell he was under, and since his upper arms were held firmly against the wall, he grabbed around Draco's waist, preparing to push him away.
The second Harry touched him, he drew in a sharp breath. He saw Harry's puzzled expression through the net of white spots that were starting to cloud his vision. As the burning pain shot through his body, he managed to spit out, "Damn you, Potter," before passing out.
Draco slumped forward against Harry in a tangle of awkward limbs. Harry had caught him under the arms, and Draco's bony chin was now resting against his collarbone.
Harry stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. But it was either pick him up or let him fall, and being the aforementioned boy who ECT. , the choice was obvious. As he swept his arm under Draco's legs and lifted him, he was surprised at how light he was. His arms ached where Draco had held them, he wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises tomorrow.
Ron and Hermione watched him in shock, but it was nothing compared to the commotion caused when he walked into Potions, with Draco in his arms.
At the sound of gasps from Slytherins and Gryffindors, Professor Snape looked up from the homework he'd been grading.
When he saw Harry holding an obviously unconscious Draco, he saw red. Draco was his favorite student and he despised Potter. He always got away with everything. Well he won't get away with this, Snape thought as he stalked quickly to their side, I'll make sure of it.
"What have you done to him Potter?" he said through gritted teeth. "I swear I'll see you expelled for this."
"I didn't do anything Professor." He backed up a little as he said this, bumping into Ron and Hermione, who were just inside the door behind him, he'd never seen Snape this angry before. "He slammed me against the wall, so I pushed him away, and he..he fainted," Harry finished lamely. It didn't sound very believable, even to him, and he'd been there.
Snape looked down at him in disgust. Did Potter really think he was that stupid? He could at least have made up a better story. This one was just pathetically unbelievable. "You expect me to believe, that Mr. Malfoy fainted, merely because you..pushed him? I can see how you'd think I would believe such a pitifully obvious lie, considering the other teachers would believe any word the great boy who lived condescends to say to them." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "But unfortunately for you, I'm not a member of your fan club. I'll see that you're punished for this, if it's the last thing I do."
Harry just looked at him speechless. He'd never seen Snape this angry before. Ron chose that unfortunate moment to speak up, Hermione having been unsuccessful in her attempts to restrain him.
"But he's not lying Professor, Hermione and me both saw everything."
Snape turned slowly toward Ron. "I don't think I asked for your opinion Weasley, ten points."
"But . . . ," Ron sputtered indignantly.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley? Did you have something to add?"
"No Professor," he said through gritted teeth, realizing a little late that he could only make things worse.
Snape's attention snapped back to Harry. "Mr. Potter, you come with me, class do the assignment on the board."
He swept out of the classroom, and with a helpless glance at Hermione and Ron, Harry followed after him.
After a few minutes of stony silence, Harry heard a noise and looked down at Draco
Draco slowly blinked open his eyes. He looked at Harry for a moment, wondering how he'd come to be cradled in his arms, but the pain came back and he could barely think. All he knew was that he was in pain, and it was Harry's fault. It was always Harry's fault. "You will be the death of me Potter," he said drawing in his breath sharply.
Professor Snape turned quickly around, coming to their side, and looking down at Draco with concern.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you all right?"
Draco's only answer was another gasp of pain.
Snape narrowed his eye's and said a spell that Harry had never heard. A purplish light appeared above Draco's ribs. Snape's gaze angrily met Harry's. "Just a little push, Potter? Is that right? I'd hate to see what you consider a real push, since this 'little one' broke his ribs."
"But I didn't Professor, I swear," he said, but Snape ignored him, saying a pain relieving spell that Harry remembered from his many trips to the hospital wing. But nothing happened, Draco continued to cry out in pain. A look of horrible realization dawned on Snape's face. He quickly pointed his wand at Draco, saying Mobulius corpus. Harry let go as Draco's body floated in the air. Draco's cries of pain slowly subsided as the pressure from his ribs was removed.
"Mr. Potter," Snape started to say, but Harry cut him off.
" Professor, I swear I didn't break his ribs, I barely touched him."
"I know," he said softly, "you don't have the knowledge to do this spell. Even if you did, you wouldn't be cruel enough to use it."
"What spell?" he asked tentatively, relieved that Snape believed him, but curious as to what the spell could be.
Snape's head snapped up and he said in a sharp tone, "None of your business, Mr. Potter. Return to class. I will take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."
Harry started to protest, but stopped himself, being just a little smarter than Ron.
As he took his seat in Potions, he shook his head when Hermione asked him what happened. He sat staring off into space, a cold feeling in his chest. He thought of the expression on Malfoy's face when he'd whispered. You will be the death of me. Somehow, Harry thought he meant it.
It took all the restraint Harry had to wait until the end of the day. He wanted to find out about the spell Malfoy had on him. He told Hermione and Ron what Snape had said, and they were as baffled as him as to what the spell could be. Harry didn't tell them about what Draco had said, and he certainly didn't tell them about the sniffing.
He waited until everyone in his room was asleep, before sneaking down to the infirmary, under the cover of his invisibility cloak. Just as he entered, he heard a voice off to his right, and went to investigate.
"Headmaster," Snape said in an aggravated tone, "with all due respect, I've only seen Voldemort and deatheaters use that spell. It's very obvious it was Lucius who did it. I doubt that Voldemort made a house call just to break the boy's ribs and spell them so they couldn't be healed magically."
Harry felt the first stirrings of pity for Draco, and a little bit of understanding.
"I know Severus, but we cannot help the boy until he asks, and you know as well as I how likely that is."
"We can't just send him home to be beaten. I won't allow it," Snape spits out.
For the first time in his life, Harry started to like Snape.
"Then you must convince him to ask for help. You are the one person he might listen to," Dumbeldore said with a sigh.
Snape swept out of the room, and Harry narrowly escaped being swept up with him. He stalked over toward a bed on the opposite side of the wing. Harry followed behind him quietly. Snape's face was fierce as he whispered to the boy lying in the bed. "I will make you listen. I will." Then, with one last look, filled with some indescribable emotion, he turned and left.
Harry turned back to the bed, looking at his enemy, the boy who had made his friends and his life miserable for six years. He thought of all the rotten things that Malfoy had done to him over the years, and all he'd done in turn. He had used to think that he hated Malfoy, but really it was only strong dislike. When he'd truly felt hatred for the first time, he'd realized that what he felt for Malfoy paled in comparison. And as much as he still disliked him, it was tempered somewhat now, by pity.
He saw that Malfoy had turned over in bed, his knuckles white as he clenched the edge of his pillow. Harry heard him whispering. When he heard what he was saying, he assumed he was talking about his father, but when he added a name to his feverish mantra, Harry's blood ran cold. "I hate you. I hate you Potter."
That night Harry tossed and turned in his bed. Those words kept running through his head. How could Malfoy's hatred for him be more than for his father? Harry wasn't the one beating him. He'd never done anything to him to merit that kind of loathing.
How could Malfoy hate him, when he didn't hate Malfoy? Of the two he felt he had more cause to hate Draco. What had he done to make Malfoy hate him so much? That question lay heavily on his thoughts all night. He finally resolved that he would find out. With that thought he slipped off to sleep. Tomorrow he would know.