Hey guys!

I suppose I should warn you that there is a bit of OOC/Draco in this Chap. Well, I actually think that he could act like this, given the right ahem persuasions, but I doubt JK would agree for the purposes of her story...sigh

Note This story will be discontinued after the 7th book is released, due to the fact that, in all likelyhood, the author will have a complete mental breakdown if JK kills either Harry or Draco...

Just Kidding. But only about the "discontinued" part. I really will have a nervyB...

3K10

Chapter 3: Dreams and Revelations

Harry jolted awake suddenly, and was quite disoriented. Not disoriented enough, however, to abandon his instinct to draw his wand and sit bolt upright in his bed. Consciousness began to slowly seep it's way back into Harry's sleep-deprived brain, and he realized that no, Voldemort hadn't captured him, no, he wasn't about to be tortured, and in fact, he was exactly where he had been when he had gone to sleep six hours before. However, as soon as Harry had surmised this, there came a disturbing noise from his right. A moaning, choking sort of noise.

Lumos

In the soft glow from his wand, Harry could see Malfoy thrashing about in the other bed. Occasionally, he let out a piteous cry that sounded like a half-moan, half-animal yelp. He could barely make out intermittent mumbles, which slowly stumbled from the pale boy's lips. Jolting finally to lay on his back, Draco's eyes snapped open, and the boy grabbed the covers by his sides, grasping and tugging them in fear.

"No. Mum! Please! Tell him that…tell him that I'm coming back! I'll do anything…I'll take you're place, it's me he wants anyway, Mum! I'll do anything…I'm coming home to save you, I promise…!" The frightened blonde boy was screaming now, wailing, emotion catching his words in the back of his throat.

Harry watched, eyes wide, as Draco's eyes roamed about the room, gradually permeating the dream haze and soaking in reality. Suddenly, the silver orbs flicked towards Harry, catching his emerald eyes in an emotional stare. Reality seemed to hit the Slytherin.

Shaking his head, as if to clear the last remnants of the dream, Malfoy spluttered

"How…How long have you been sitting there, Potter…?"

Harry gaped at him, and slowly brought his wand to his side, extinguishing its glow.

Malfoy sighed, sat up, and ran his hands through his sleep addled blonde hair. Then, his head was in his hands and he was sobbing. Moonlight raked over his body, throwing his heaving silhouette into sharp relief. Harry was astounded, but slowly made his way over to the other boy's bed and sat heavily beside him. It was awkward, really, and Harry wasn't quite sure what was to be expected of him. After a brief inner battle, he simply wrapped his arms around the sobbing blonde and brought him into his chest, already feeling Malfoy's tears dripping down his arms.

"Pott…Harry…I…he's going to kill them. If I don't…If I don't go back and give myself up. I…I have to go home, Harry. I can't let my Mum suffer for my mistakes…You have to take me back…" Draco sobbed, his arms now anchored firmly around Harry's shoulders, silver eyes squeezed tightly shut against Harry's night shirt. Harry made "shush"-ing noises, and rocked the sobbing boy softly.

"Draco…I can promise you that for the time being, your parents are very safe. Remember, your father is in Azkaban. No danger there. He and your mother are still firm Voldemort supporters, and he needs all of the support he can get right now. He's not going to kill your parents, Draco. I would know if he even so much as thought about it, I can still feel his emotions. I would know. And I wouldn't let him. We would go back, and we would help them. Even if it meant me giving my life, Draco, I promise you that I would go back." Harry murmured into the blonde's soft hair.

He was vaguely surprised at the words that were coming out of his own mouth. Would he really do that? Give his life to save that of two Death-Eaters, and an (extremely frightened) Ex-Death-Eater? One glance at the boy holding him, this blonde God bathed in moonlight, was enough to answer that question. He would. In an instant. How could he not?

The blonde lifted his eyes to look into Harry's and sniffled. His embrace suddenly grew tighter around the Gryffindor, then, a second later, his arms were gone from around Harry's shoulders, and he laid back in the spill of moonlight, his hair shimmering and fanning around his pale, pointed face. And he was asleep. Just like that. Harry brushed a strand of blonde hair from his face, stood up, and walked back to his bed. Once he heard Draco's deep, even breathing, Harry permitted his mind to buzz with questions.

When Harry awoke several hours later, he was not surprised to find Draco awake and dressed, sitting with his feet propped up on the table again. Harry paused before rising, trying to think of an appropriate response after last night's situation. He needn't have worried; Malfoy was not the sort to want to bring into light his own emotional weaknesses if he thought he could get away with it.

As Harry stood and began to make his way to the bathroom, he could feel Malfoy's gaze on his back. But this time, it felt different. There was no malice in his stare, just a profound, unequivocal confusion.

Harry sighed with relief and let the tepid water run over his face. He was glad that Draco had chosen not to mention the morning's events, as it would hardly do for the blonde to think that Harry was such an emotional pushover.

Gods, I am so weak. Just a few tears, even from my enemy, and I'm stumbling all over myself to do whatever it is that he wants…Hopefully Voldemort never comes crying to me, I may just offer myself up on a silver platter…

The dark-haired boy scowled, disgusted with himself. Then again, he supposed he wouldn't have felt any better if he had allowed Malfoy to cry…and he would certainly have gotten less sleep.

Yea, because you would have lain over in your bed all night, feeling like a prick if you hadn't comforted him… His conscience goaded.

But… That's just loyalty, patience and all of that good Gryffindor stuff…it's ingrained in my thinking…I have to help others! That's just what Gryffindors do for one another! He snapped back at his conscience.

Ahem…Slytherin? The sneaky voice retorted, before fleeing from Harry's head.

Though it was hard to admit even that to himself, Harry eventually arrived at the conclusion that his actions this morning were necessary and very imperative to his and Draco's continued mutual survival. And they had nothing to do with the fact that seeing the blonde cry had come very close to ripping Harry's heart in two.

When he emerged from the shower, Malfoy was standing in front of the window, curtains drawn back with his hand. He seemed to be deep in thought, and his face was skewed as if he was having an internal argument much like Harry's. Not wanting to startle the boy but needing his attention, Harry laid a hand on the blondes shoulder. Malfoy did not give any sign that he felt Harry's hand, except by removing his own from the curtains, allowing the room to shift into a slate colored shade.

The blonde turned, shrugged off Harry's hand, and headed toward the bathroom. Harry cleared his throat and Malfoy turned back to him, pale eyebrows arched.

"Yes?"

"We…have to leave." Harry sighed, running his hand through his damp hair.

Malfoy appraised him coolly, his silver eyes sweeping over the black-haired boy's face. Harry could see a momentary flash of lurching fear behind the normally placid eyes.

"It's just…I had to apparate back in here last night, and…I think that it would be better if we…moved on. Just in case."

Malfoy looked curious, which, in Harry's opinion, caused a dramatic change to take place in his facial features. Instead of looking like a statue, a clone of his father, he looked vaguely approachable. Harry's mind flashed immediately back to Malfoy's face this morning, when he was crying in his arms, soaked in moonlight. When he was animate, Harry decided, Malfoy wasn't so bad…

"You apparated in here last night? But…why? I thought you would just sleep in the car, or something…" Malfoy questioned.

"Well, I couldn't very well leave you in here alone, now could I?" Harry snapped, suddenly irritated. "And you should be glad that I did, because if this morning was any indication, you need me more than you think you do. Don't you Draco?"

Malfoy gaped at him, his mouth opening slightly and then snapping closed.

"I…how dare you! I just…had a...erm…that is…Nobody asked you to comfort me, Potter!" Malfoy exploded, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Draco…I…I can only tell you that I know how you feel. I can't make you not hate me, but I can tell you that I know how it feels to wake up sweating and screaming and knowing…just knowing…that your dream is reality, that somewhere someone is dying, and it's all your fault. I know, Draco. I'm sorry. I thoughtI could help, but apparently all I've done is make things worse. But I'm here for you, whether either of us wants me to be. So let's just make the best of this, and I promise you that, from now on, when ever you accidentally exhibit emotion unfitting a Slytherin, I'll just turn my head and pretend like I don't see it. Because Merlin forbid that we ever try to make this work, try to be acquaintances at least!" Harry exploded, gesticulating wildly in rage.

The blonde's eyes were wide, staring at the usually submissive Gryffindor in shock. Harry could see thoughts flicking around behind his lovely silver eyes, trying to grasp what Harry had just said.

Acquaintances?! Who does this pathetic Gryffindor think I am, a blood-traitor like Weasley? He must be joking! I could never degrade my family, my honor, by being seen with "The Chosen One"… His father's voice sneered, seeming to echo from the depths of Azkaban.

Not that any of that matters anymore…the entire wizarding world is halfway across the globe and Har…Potter is your only chance to get out of this mess alive…Unless you want him to turn you over to the Dark Lord…That's always a possibility, you know Draco…he could just leave you for dead and run for his own life, like he should be doing anyway. That's what you would do, Draco…But he isn't. He's risking his life for you, and you're too selfish to see it…Draco's conscience breathed in his ear.

Draco sighed, flicked his hair out of his eyes, and conjured chairs for both of them. (Oak chairs with velvet coverings, thank-you-very-much) The blonde sank backwards, propping his feet up on Harry's bed.

"Let's…Let's talk about this, okay, Potter?"