Debris crunched softly in the low light of the dungeons, lost among the voices that filled the castle. A vaguely human-shaped shadow moved beneath the flickering light of the torches, creeping carefully to avoid any attention. As Harry made his way to the Slytherin Common Room, he began to notice how much worse the dungeons had become since the war. Sudden light filtered in where bricks had gone missing. Cracks seemed to blossom out from crevices, and Harry kept expecting the tell-tale scuttle of spiders, so cobweb-like the cracks were. When he heard hushed voices, he pressed himself against the wall and watched the group of solemn Slytherins walk by with their eyes glued to the floor. He continued down the hallway until he heard a hum of subdued voices. Walking faster, Harry reached the Slytherin dorms, with its one wall totally mutilated, baring the chock-full common room to passerby-not that there were many.
Mission in mind, Harry quietly stepped over the damaged threshold, not bothering to use the proper entrance. His eyes skimmed the room, silently observing the year-based groups of Slytherins huddled together in various locations throughout the room, all whispering quietly. All but one Slytherin. Malfoy lay off to one side, eyes looking glazed and dull as he stared out the window, the rays of morning sun hitting his pale, sunken face. He looked as though he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep over the past few hours while the teachers and volunteers were cleaning up. Harry's eyes lingered on Malfoy's blank face a moment longer before he quietly tread up the stairway to the seventh year dorms. The door creaked as he opened it, and Harry whipped around to see if anyone had noticed. None of the students had looked up from their groups, but Harry thought for a moment that he saw Malfoy's face turn slightly. Then Malfoy sighed silently and turned his face away, gazing out the window. Turning back, Harry crept into the room as quietly as he could. Looking around, he noticed that all the beds had been made but one. Approaching it quietly, Harry noted that no belongings lay upon the bedside table, whereas all the other bedside tables were strewn with various items that could identify whose bed it was. Harry made out Zabini's, Nott's, Goyle's, and Crabbe's beds. That left the unmade one as Malfoy's. Harry laid his hand across the sheets and was surprised to find that they were still warm. Taking of his invisibility cloak, he laid it gently near the end of the bed and quietly got down on his knees. He knew what he had to do. Reaching into his clock, he pulled out a piece of parchment, a self-inking quill, and a wand that was not either of his own. Looking around for a writing surface, Harry hunched over the bedside table, quill in hand and blank parchment begging to be written on. Biting his lip, he closed his eyes and thought. After a moment, he opened his eyes and began to write:
Malfoy-
Thank you and you're welcome.
For everything.
-Harry Potter
Harry read the note over. Short, simple, and clear. Folding it in half, Harry tucked the quill back inside his pocket. Placing the note carefully on the pillow, Harry gently placed Draco's wand on top before noticing something brown poking out from beneath the pillow. Pulling it out, Harry saw that it was a small brown notebook or journal of some sort. Gryffindor curiosity overwhelming him, he opened it, and his eyes widened as he recognized Malfoy's handwriting. It looked like a journal entry and was dated as…wasn't that today?
2 May 1998
Whew. I certainly am relieved. No more Voldemort, than heavens. That crazy lunatic was driving me insane, making me do all sorts of horrid things, crazy shit that no one in their right mind would consider. I mean, cruciating fellow students? Even if they are pathetic Gryffindors, what pleasure comes from other people's senseless pain? They hadn't even done anything severely against the Carrows' rules. I find revenge much preferable. Anyways, seeing as my Chosen One has come through, I am no longer haunted by the lunatic and all his crazies and supporters. Well, maybe some of his crazy supporters may never be caught. Must always be on my guard. What am I talking about? I must be crazy. Only crazy people write in a journal every day without fail for three years and talk to you as though you were a real person. Aaand there I am again. But it's really lonely now. Crabbe's gone and blown himself up, and you never really see a person with one crony. It's always a trio of some sort. The wand, the cloak, the stone. Harry, Granger and the Weasel. And I know I'll always be the "bad one." I will always be the traitor now, no matter what I do. And Harry going to be the star of the wizarding world—well, more than his already is. And we'll be more far apart than ever. Not that it matters. To him. *sigh* I guess it really is impossible. Me, a traitorous ex-Death Eater with the Savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter? Hah. I should have known it was impossible from the start. I really didn't choose on my own, you know. It just…happened. Ugh. Never mind that now, it seems as though I'll just have to
And the entry ended abruptly. Harry looked up from the journal, head reeling in shock. What in the blazes had he just found? What the hell had he just read!? Bloody hell! It seems as though…but it was impossible, illogical, stupid..but he had just read it. It seems as though Malfoy had a…thing for Harry. Surprisingly Harry's insides didn't recoil from the thought. Huh. In fact, he just felt a pleasant sort of bubble of gentle curiosity in his chest now. It was curiosity, obviously, because he wanted to know more about what the hell Malfoy was thinking, that was all...
Suddenly he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and the door burst open before he had a chance to replace the journal or grab his invisibility cloak. Harry turned slowly, only to meet Malfoy's startled, disbelieving eyes. Previously devoid of emotion, Malfoy's eyes flickered through a range of emotions- surprise, suspicion, guilt, relief, and finally panic. Flickering down to his hands, Malfoy's eyes widened at the sight of Harry holding his journal, and he lunged forward, trying to grab it out of Harry's hands. Harry's Quidditch skills kicked in as he quickly stood up tall, holding the book in the air out of Malfoy's reach. Looking up, Harry involuntarily flipped through the pages faster and was further shocked to find them full of pictures, newspaper clippings, doodles, and-were those Witch Weekly cutouts?-alongside pages full of Malfoy's immaculate scrawl. Baffled, Harry slowly lowered his hand and Malfoy grabbed the journal from him, face flushed furiously red and eyes flickering left and right, leaving him looking vulnerable, on the verge of tears, and…well, cute. Wait, Harry thought. Did I just think of Malfoy as cute?
An awkward silence settled between them, and Harry looked everywhere except at Malfoy's face. Finally, Malfoy spoke in a quivering voice.
"How-how far did you read?" he asked quietly, still refusing to make eye contact with Harry, whose eyes flicked to Malfoy the second he spoke.
"…Well…I—er, well, erm…today's entry," Harry admitted, now feeling abashed at what he'd done. How many times had Hermione told him not to go through other people's journals. And after his second year, the Chamber of Secrets, and being Ginny's boyfriend, he knew he should have had a bit more caution. Ginny! his mind thought suddenly. He had totally forgotten about her while he was reading Malfoy's journal. In fact, he was feeling sort of pleased and flattered and had totally forgotten about the sort-of-on-hiatus thing with Ginny.
Malfoy remained silent as his hands quietly fiddled with the small but thick book. Harry realized he should probably say something.
"Well, er, I'm—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have read your journal. It's just-I didn't know it was yours-well, I should have, seeing as it was under your pillow. Anyways, I just came to return your wand, and, well…I'm sorry," Harry rambled, feeling nervous and guilty. There was a long silence and then-
"Well, you know, then, don't you? Just go and blab it to the world, see if I care!" Malfoy's voice now sounded as though he was really crying, but his frustration shone through as his voice rose with anger with each word. "It doesn't even matter anymore. It was always just a stupid-I don't know WHAT I've been doing, what I've been expecting, I'm just really good at this whole inflicting self-pain thing, aren't I? I suppose I'll just be even more hated now. It's not like anything will be any different. It's just—I'm SO STUPID!" he bellowed, eyes really swimming with tears now. Harry felt immensely guilty, but instead of pity for Malfoy, he felt something else in his gut. His gut was telling him to do something. But what? he wondered. He looked back up at the currently tear-stricken boy that he had known nearly all his life. It was unnatural seeing him without a smirk on his face, like when he stumbled upon Malfoy in the bathroom during 6th year. But this time Harry felt something different. There was something strange about Malfoy and the way he was wiping his tears defiantly with his sleeves. There was something…fascinating. Something…alluring.
Before he knew what he was doing, Harry quickly strode up to the boy and pulled Draco's hands away from his face. Harry used his palms to wipe away the tears on the stricken and confused face looking up at him with wide eyes. Something swelled in his heart as he instinctively closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around the frail, shivering body in front of him, and placed his own lips upon Draco's.
Immediately the something swelling in his heart rose and rose and burst as Harry felt joy, happiness—something he had not felt in ages. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever felt this happy. He felt as though he could conjure the most powerful patronus or defeat five more Dark Lords, such was the emotion he felt when his lips connected with Draco's. And far too quick it was gone—a pair of quivering hands that now lay on his chest had pushed him away. Harry opened his eyes and looked at Draco in confusion, realization dawned on him and he flushed. Draco's eyes began swimming with tears again, and his expression was pained, confused, almost…betrayed.
Harry blanched. He had no idea what he had just done, or why, but he knew that it felt right. However, still being unsure of himself and not trusting his initial response, he looked directly in Draco's eyes before quietly mumbling an apology, quickly grabbing his invisibility cloak, and going down the stairs two at a time.
Harry didn't care if the Slytherins noticed a pair of dirty trainers or felt a brush of wind that seemingly came from nowhere. He just knew he had to leave as soon as possible. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, and get his mind off this for awhile. As he raced up the stairs to the foyer in front of what once was the Great Hall, he came across the last person he needed to see at the moment.
Ginny.
(A/N): Hello everyone~ *Phew* Finally got around to typing this up. It was lying around handwritten somewhere and I was being lazy about putting it up. I hope I'm getting better at this whole writing thing ^.^ R&R please!