Title: "Cui Prodest"

Author: Shaitanah

Rating: R

Timeline: post-HBP

Summary: When Draco seeks refuge in the Order, Harry is assigned to protect him. Big mistake, that is. + The more dangerous the game is, the better they like it.

Pairings: Harry/Draco, minor Harry/Ginny, minor Ron/Hermione (in various chapters), etc.

Disclaimer: 'Harry Potter' belongs to JKR. Unfortunately. We all know that, don't we?

Special thanks: to my beta Lady Domino; I don't know how you find time for this, darling, but I'm so glad you do!

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! They keep me writing! About the 'eyes of the water' spell: I'm not really good at Rowling's spells cuz I prefer non-verbal and wandless kind of magic (like when the guy comes in, waves his hand, and all his enemies sort of go up in flames!) but her spells are all in Latin so I gathered my poor knowledge of Latin, too. That's where it came from.

Chapter 3

Just A Good Actor

Arguments out of a pretty mouth are unanswerable.

Joseph Addison.

"He… what?" Ron gaped at Harry, breathless.

Hermione pursed her lips in a way which made her look gloomy and comparatively intimidating.

"I know, it sounds stupid, but he says he won't go anywhere else." Harry nodded as if in confirmation of the words that were not his own.

"Well, screw what he says!" Ron blurted out. Hermione cast him a look of reproach. He smiled and shrugged carelessly. "Anyway, it's your flat, isn't it? You don't have to keep him there. I still don't understand why that bastard is so important to us."

"Because your father and Professor Lupin believe he might know something important," Hermione reminded.

"Yeah, and never divulge it! Get rid of him, Harry!"

In the meantime, Harry's thoughts drifted back to Malfoy. Yesterday he had insisted on conducting a small cleaning. He even forgot for a moment that he was an aristocrat. After that Harry's apartment had looked undeniably better. Well, of course, it didn't cover the damage Draco inflicted every day by his insults, mockery and the electricity expenses which arose from his newly discovered love for television. But at least now Harry had someone to talk to. Accustomed to loud companies at the Burrow, the entire Weasley family to spend his time with, he felt forlorn and forgotten in his small flat.

"I guess I'll let him stay," he murmured. "Besides, you know, guys… he's lived there for almost a week already. I'll try to make him talk."

"Big mistake, mate," Ron sighed.

On his way home, Harry pondered his friends' words. It was dangerous to engage in any sort of relationship with Malfoy, true, but Draco had been acting rather civil this past week. Harry just couldn't throw him out.

Yet another reason existed. Harry walked in circles, not knowing how to tell Draco the truth about Lucius Malfoy's death. The heir seemed distraught enough. Harry wondered who told him about what had happened, as well as how much. Apparently, the true circumstances still remained unknown to him.

Deep in thought, Harry approached his block of flats and was quite surprised to discover Malfoy sitting on the porch with a sketchbook in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Harry exclaimed. "You're not supposed to go out! What if you're accidentally seen?"

"Another day in that dusty closet of yours will do me in! I'm going shopping with you. You forgot your list."

Harry took the scrap of paper Malfoy was giving him and stuffed it into his pocket. Unbearable!

"Have you ever heard the word 'no', Draco?" he muttered. "It's not so difficult to memorize it. Just two letters: n-o!"

"N-o, Potter, I haven't heard it!" Malfoy mimicked him.

They walked rapidly, undisguised and dangerously visible to the entire world. Harry cursed himself for having forgotten to take his Invisibility cloak or at least alter Draco's appearance somehow. The supermarket was located 10 minutes away from the house. They could be seen a thousand times during their walk.

"If you give me some ingredients, I can brew Polyjuice for us next time," Draco sneered.

"There will be no next time," Harry cut off.

Shelves piled with cans and jars spread far and wide in the brightly lit hall of the supermarket. Fresh vegetables gleamed with vibrant colors. Solid chemical aroma clogged the air in the household department.

Standing on the footboard of the trolley, Malfoy went a roundabout way and nearly bumped into an old lady who immediately indulged into a long monologue dealing with 'how rude and disappointing this generation is'. To Harry's astonishment, Malfoy apologized, helped the lady to the cashier's and rode on to explore the wonders of the regular Muggle shop. He kept bombarding Harry with questions ('What's this for? How does that work?') and a satisfied grin wouldn't vanish from his flushed face.

"Seriously, one might think it's your first time in a supermarket," Harry chuckled and received a serious response: "It is."

The trolley was already filled with useless stuff like candles, sixteen bottles of drinking yogurt and plastic trinkets for keys when Harry came across the toy department. It was rather small and consisted mostly of plush toys of various sizes and prices. Harry stroked a bear's curly head gently. The fabric was soft and very pleasant to touch. Most of those toys could find better use as pillows rather than objects for children's' energetic sadism.

"Lapsing into childhood, Potter?" Malfoy teased.

"Sod off. It's for Ginny. I want to make up for my behaviour."

Malfoy tossed him a huge dark-green octopus. Wire in its tentacles made them flexible and allowed them to take any form possible.

"Take this one."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Very funny," he snickered and threw the toy back onto the shelf.

"You're right, it'd better be saved for Won-Won."

Surprisingly, choosing the present took Harry twice as long as they had spent in the shop already. In the next forty-five minutes he learnt that he was absolutely no good at picking toys for a girl. Malfoy once again proved to be a useful adviser.

A chubby white two-legged kitten with a glittering pink ribbon for a collar was rather good, to Harry's liking. Malfoy choked with laughter at the sight of it and almost fell of the cart where at the time he had already been sitting.

"Weaslette doesn't look like a lover of pink! If you give her that," he pressed the cat's stomach and a saccharine voice pronounced: 'I wuv you!' – "she will probably hex you into a toad. Find something more simple, something cute that a girl would like but not something from a deranged fairytale land. Something like this."

He pointed at a fluffy beige bear-cub with black eyes. Harry cocked his head, doubtful.

"I don't know… It reminds me of Snape."

Another burst of laughter followed. This time Draco was really close to falling off the trolley. Harry joined him against his will, infected with joy, and together they took the bear to the cash-desk.

On the way back it rained. The boys found shelter under a canopy in the market and silently counted drops falling to the asphalt. Under the summer rain their worries melted and slipped away. Summer in the city was always different.

From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed an unpleasant face. Unctuous pig-like eyes were watching the pair carefully. He nudged Malfoy and turned his attention back to the man. Unfortunately, he was not alone. Within a few metres Harry spotted two more.

"Werewolves," Draco whispered in his ear. "The same that were in the hotel."

His fingers wrapped around Harry's forearm. Malfoy froze, focused and tense like a deer on guard, ready to run if necessary. Harry still hoped to get away unnoticed but the moment the werewolf's sharp eyes fixed firmly on him, he realized there was no other way.

They ran so fast that a dull ache soon caught in their sides. Panting, Harry looked back occasionally to see if the wolves were still on their tail. The boys kept closer to the crowd; the werewolves wouldn't risk attacking among Muggles. It went on raining. They jumped over the puddles, glided on the slippery side-walks and dived into the narrow alleys only to find out that their pursuers had already apparated and lay in ambush.

At last the boys found shelter in a thick grove that grew a few blocks away from their apartment.

"Did we lose them?" Harry asked breathlessly.

Water dripped down from the branches above their heads. Something rattled loudly. Harry jumped nervously; fortunately, it was no more than a bough that broke under Malfoy's boot. Harry snorted irritably.

"We can't go home now," he sighed. "They might be tracking us."

Draco flashed him a sardonic look as if asking, 'Are you always that good at stating the obvious?' The grove went quiet. The boys tried not to move without a reason. Their limbs went numb, water penetrated the soles of their shoes, trickles sliding coldly through their hair. Raindrops glistened on wet leaves.

Draco slid carefully past a massive tree trunk and bent over a small puddle. He beckoned Harry to come up wordlessly.

'Oculi aquae,' he mouthed.

The water darkened, became rippling. Shady silhouettes reflected in its depths. Soon they acquired the recognizable features of the three werewolves that had been chasing them. Harry knitted his eye-brows: he did not know this spell. Neither did he know that Malfoy could use wandless magic so easily.

Draco licked his lips thoughtfully.

"That's the crossroad we've passed, isn't it? Looks like they're close."

Harry caught his breath and focused all attention on the puddle. Malfoy had no right to look so striking. That one thing about him was totally illegal. His hair a damp mess, mud on his plain Muggle jacket, yet in the absence of expensive jewelry and cologne, he could still take breath away with enviable ease. Harry stared at the water so intently he would sooner or later burn a hole in its surface.

He realized that Draco had actually been talking all that time. He cast him a wry glance and fixed his gaze upon the blond's lips.

Draco coughed.

"Uhm… You were saying?" Harry blinked.

"You haven't been listening, have you?" Malfoy reproached. "Never mind."

"Okay, whatever you say," Harry shrugged, grateful for a chance to look away.

It didn't feel right to think about Malfoy in such way. That morbid desire to reach out to Malfoy and take his shirt off, to feel his bare skin against Harry's own overheated flesh, to explore every inch of such an ideal body with his tongue, to wipe arrogance off that handsome face – that desire didn't seem right at all.

It dawned upon Harry that he had already touched Malfoy so many times in the past. They wrestled, they punched each other, they jostled. Malfoy's breath on his skin when he was looking for that ill-starred grocery list. Malfoy's body reacting to his weight in the most unforeseen way. Was that indeed for him?

Harry blushed. Of course not! Damn, he wished Sirius was here. Up to his fifth year, he could ask Sirius about anything and everything and get a straightforward answer. Lupin was next thing to a father figure in Harry's personal universe but he was usually doing something much more important than discussing the effect of hormones on a messed up kid's psyche.

Malfoy nudged him on the elbow.

"They are leaving. They've been moving down the street for the past fifteen minutes. Here is our chance."

They crept out of the grove and slunk cautiously towards their block of flats. At home, they put out all the lights, drew the curtains and behaved as quietly as possible. Harry sorted out the purchases and was relieved to see Ginny's present was intact. The bear's fur had turned from beige to brown and stuck together in places. Dry blowing should solve the problem.

Hedwig hooted cheerfully at the sight of Harry. The youth ruffled her feathers gently. The door slammed behind his back; in a few minutes splashes were heard. Malfoy occupied the bathroom. Harry arched his eye-brows, wondering if he should also walk in on him. Hedwig stared at him with her big saucer-like eyes.

"No?" Harry asked innocently. "You don't think I should? Oh, alright, let's be polite until he does something to really piss me off."

It was already very late. Harry yawned and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, ready to run through the papers again, he was not quite himself.

A cold voice was calling his name. He stared dreamily into the void that lay before him. Then he walked, staggering, towards a tall, cloaked figure and bowed. A pale hand emerged from the darkness beneath the sleeve and waved at him. He straightened himself mechanically.

-All pain of the world, do you understand, my precious?- a raspy voice asked. It took Harry a few seconds to recognize Parseltongue. But then, the man speaking was…

A giant snake uncoiled lazily before him. It regarded Harry solemnly and hissed in unison with the Dark Lord: -All pain of the world, Master!-

Voldemort stepped into the blackness of the void; he didn't descend but strolled forward as if treading on a soft mattress. Harry trailed after him, blank and a bit dizzy. They halted by a limp body, sprawled in a pool of blood. There was so much blood that Harry wondered briefly if it all came from one man.

"I truly am sorry, my loyal servant," Voldemort said briskly. The hood of his robes fell away. Fierce crimson eyes pierced Harry. "You have failed me. What destiny, in your opinion, should befall you now?"

Harry looked down at the dead body and recognized that pale golden hair, that noble, handsome face.

"Death, my lord," he replied stoically. "The most painful death for having failed you."

Voldemort smiled. "And if I offer you a chance to fix everything?"

"I'm willing to take it," Harry breathed. Strange jubilation filled him to the brim. "Please, give me a chance to redeem myself. I'll do anything!"

-He meanssss it,- the snake observed. –He'ssss sssuch a ssscared little human. He'll do whatever you ssssay.-

Darkness enveloped the body on the floor and devoured it. Harry couldn't stop shivering.

"I want Harry Potter," Voldemort said. "Harry Potter!"

The void was spinning. Harry felt sick. The air around him shimmered and exploded with a choir calling his name, "Potter! Potter! Potter!"

"Potter, damn it, wake up!!!"

Harry gasped. His heart thundered in his chest. He looked at Malfoy, who was gripping his shoulders, shaking him lightly.

"Good," the blond said breathlessly. "Now you're back."

"Back from where?"

"You tell me. You were muttering something in Parseltongue, moaning and nearly performing somersaults on the bed."

"Didn't know you cared," Harry said, not bothering to conceal his enmity. The person in his dream could only have been one person, and this person was sitting right next to him.

Draco got up and folded his arms over his chest. His eyes blazed silvery as he mimicked Harry's hostile tone:

"I don't. I'm just sick of you not letting me sleep."

With a sting of remorse Harry crawled out of bed and caught up with Malfoy just before the blond could shut the door in front of him. Dark shades encircled Malfoy's eyes. But even exhausted as he was, he looked nearly flawless.

Harry put his hand on Malfoy's forearm gently.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to snarl like that. Just had a stupid dream."

"I don't care," Draco shrugged.

Harry smiled. "Oh yes, you do. Otherwise you would have nicked my wand while I was asleep and cast a Silencing Charm over my room."

"Gee, thanks for the idea!"

Harry was glad to see that Malfoy was now smiling. He had yet to ponder the meaning of the dream but he didn't want to give it much attention now. Somehow without agreement they crawled onto Malfoy's bed and lay there together. Harry turned the radio on, breaking the stillness of the flat that had been building up since their return that afternoon. Surprisingly, both of them ended up humming quietly to the tune.

"You can't sing," Malfoy said when another song began.

"Neither can you," Harry grinned.

There was some strange peace in lying like that, singing, muttering silly comments once in a while. The conversation flagged but Harry had little need for words now. The warmth of Malfoy's body next to his, soft music and the feeling of unexpected safety finally lulled him.

Harry tucked his head under the pillow, not wishing to wake up. It felt so warm and fuzzy under the blanket. He grunted softly and searched for his watch. It wasn't on the nightstand. Weird.

Come to think of it, it wasn't his nightstand at all. He jumped up (sent the pillow flying into the wall) and realized with a start that it was not only somebody else's nightstand, but also somebody else's bed in somebody else's room. Panic-stricken, Harry sank back on the bed. Malfoy…

The memory came back, relieving his stress. He recalled his nightmare and their minor exchange of words before he fell asleep. Harry scratched the back of his head quizzically: he was sure he had gone back to his bedroom to sleep. It felt awkward and odd to fall asleep beside Malfoy. He wondered if Malfoy had felt the same.

Harry found him in the kitchen, a letter in his hands, his face a few shades paler than usual. The blond noticed Potter and put the paper away.

"What's that?" Harry asked, frowning.

"It's personal."

"Another grocery list? Give it to me."

Draco stepped back, showing severe resolution. Hands in his pockets, he looked at Harry but not challenging him like the last time. Something else gleamed in his eyes: caution, determination, desolation.

Harry neared him, gripped his wrists tightly and asked again to give him the letter. Draco shook his head stubbornly.

"I'm warning you…" he said quietly. "If you touch that letter –."

Harry brushed Malfoy's hand with his fingers. Malfoy recoiled and bumped into the wall. Harry pressed their bodies together, slid his hand into Malfoy's pocket, smiling at the déjà vu. To his amazement, Draco didn't resist short of whispering in a muffled voice, "Don't do that, please. I'm warning you."

Harry looked up, their lips almost touched. The stern look on Malfoy's face told him that the youth was ready to defend that ill-fated letter with all his strength.

"Give it to me," Harry breathed.

"Give you what?"

'He's playing with me,' Harry realized. He had to confess he liked the game; he wanted to be lured into a trap Malfoy was preparing for him.

The moment he tore the letter out of Draco's pocket, the blond gripped his hand with impressive strength, nearly breaking the bone. The paper broke with a screeching sound. Draco crammed the pieces into his pocket and glowered at Harry.

"You will not touch this! It's personal."

"You have nothing personal while you live under this roof!" Harry fired thoughtlessly. His words pained Draco, that much was crystal clear. The blond pursed his lips and said coolly:

"It is a letter from my mother if you must know. And I'd rather die than let you read it."