Rating: R, for mature themes.
Disclaimer: NOT MINE! JKR is GOD! (or Goddess) *bows and chants* okay... erm... they're not mine, but the psycho twisted plot is. :-D
Sleeping With the Enemy
A creaking sound within the room awakened Dean Thomas at once. He didn't get up; he simply lay there, with Seamus snoring lightly beside him, analyzing the situation. He could sense everyone still in bed but... there! A flash of *wrongness*, of not belonging, assailed him and the sixth year slid catlike out of his bed and saw that Harry's curtains were pulled back to one side. A small figure was kneeling next to the sleeping youth, gazing at his face.
Dean approached slowly and rounded into the intruder's line-of-sight. The person started and turned to face him. Recognizing him, Dean suddenly understood why *this* trespasser was on the side furthest from the door. It put the most possible space between him and the bed of Ron Weasley.
"Malfoy. What are you doing here?" the dark teen inquired softly. Draco Malfoy shook his head distraughtly.
"Protecting something pure." he laughed bitterly and quietly. Dean stood, silent, waiting for the Slytherin to continue, knowing that if he waited, an explanation would come. Draco began again, slowly, his voice choked but still stone-cold.
"You know-I'm *sure* you know about that -group- at Hogwarts that goes around and does certain... things." Dean nodded grimly. Some older students, mainly Slytherins, had found great sport in something vile, and it went on mostly unchecked, now that Dumbledore was gone and poor Professor McGonagall was left in charge of everything. This group delighted in stealing younger students in the middle of the night and *playing* with them, touching and using and breaking the student until they begged for more. Then they left the person lying in a mess in some storeroom or empty classroom for someone to come along and find. It was horrible. So far five students had been found in this condition, the youngest, a fourth year that had not returned to Hogwarts after the incident. She was a Hufflepuff; there had been two Ravenclaws, sweet-natured Blaise Zabini (though he was a Slytherin) and a Gryffindor... Dean's eyes narrowed. He remembered that terrible, terrible night he had raced through the halls, searching desperately, and then his discovery of Seamus Finnigan, crumpled on the ground and sobbing. He had come early in the "session" thank God, and the group had scattered.
Many times Dean had wished fervently that he had found his friend earlier, though. Nearly every night now Seamus would crawl into his bed and Dean would hold him and whisper soothingly as Seamus cried himself to sleep. The Irish lad was so *afraid*, afraid of being caught again... And another thing, no one knew how "the Takers" got those people. It was a thoroughly scary situation, and Dean didn't mind having Seamus with him at night at all.
"Yes." he whispered.
"I'm not part of it. I'll *never* be part of them." Draco hissed vehemently. "They wanted me to join them. They were going to..." he shook a little. "Tonight. They were going to take Potter." Dean's eyes widened. "But I wouldn't let them! He's so innocent, and though I envy him that, I wasn't about to let them take that away from him. So they said, if not Potter, than who? So I said... I said me." The Gryffindor stared at him in shocked horror. Draco's eyes were glistening, but otherwise he showed no emotion.
"You did *that* for *Harry*?!" //Good Lord! How much longer is this going to go on?//
"So, you see, I had to see him. I couldn't *not* see him. I'll never tell him, and he'll never know, at least, he better not ever know." Draco fixed his gaze on Dean, who nodded, and turned back to his bed. Draco caught his hand.
"I won't hurt him." he promised, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, raw pain contained in them.
"I know. And for what it's worth, I... I think you're a very good person, Malf- Draco." Then Dean crawled back into Seamus' arms, and closed the curtains.
The pale Slytherin gazed at Harry's soft features as his head swirled with conflicting thoughts. Had he done the right thing? His heart told him it was so, but his body screamed at him, and he knew this experience would make him even more fucked up than he already was. And since when did he care about "the right thing"? That was Potter's cup of tea. //I guess the Golden Boy is rubbing off on me, too.// he thought wryly through the haze of fog that was surrounding his brain. Draco stroked back the unruly bangs and traced one finger along the jagged scar. The boy looked so *pretty* without his glasses. Suddenly, Draco was *glad* that he had saved the sleeping Gryffindor. Innocence like this was too beautiful to be broken so rudely. Besides... he was fine! //Fuck that. I'm so screwed up I'm in the *Gryffindor* dormitory. Oh, God.// The memories flew back-- Draco fought them off grimly. He was a Malfoy, dammit! He gave Harry's cheek one last, tender caress, and started to get up.
Green, green eyes flashed open abruptly, large and unprotected without the wire-frames that usually bordered them. Draco froze like a deer caught in headlights.
TBC
Please Review! I've written the next part but I'm not sure if I'm going to post it yet. Feedback, please!
And I just upload a new chapter of "Temptation in the Form of a Finnigan", a *much* lighter fic, so if ya want a laugh, check it out!
"My Fire, My Love"? *whistles innocently* "Enemy" was brought about by severe writer's block, as you can probably tell cuz of the different style this is written in. I'm working on it!
~RainShadow