Title: Secrets in the Chamber

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

Rating: R

Warnings: Alternate 8th Year Fic. Also note the rating change: there is a masturbation scene in this chapter.

Summary: In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...


Secrets in the Chamber

Part Four – Malfoy's Tears


Well, he'd expected things to be hard. Just not…this kind of hard.

It had taken a lot of inventive thinking to get Malfoy into the Gryffindor Common Room – and a lot of judicious use of the Invisibility Cloak that now lay at the bottom of the bed. Harry had gone through the portal first and then made a show of dropping something just inside it, stooping to grab it whilst Malfoy crawled up beside him. There hadn't been many people still awake and those that had been present had mostly ignored Harry as he'd made his way up to bed, Malfoy following at his heels.

Harry had lent Malfoy some pyjamas – knowing from Malfoy's expression of distaste that he'd only avoided a cutting remark because they'd been trying to be quiet. He'd shrugged in response, searching around his trunk for spare sheets, throwing them onto the bed.

"Harry? You feeling cold mate?" Seamus had asked him from across the room.

Harry had almost cursed but stopped just in time, turning to give Seamus a sheepish smile. "Uhr, just, you know, get cold feet sometimes."

Seamus had snorted and turned around to go back to sleep and the room had fallen silent once more. Malfoy had watched the exchange with an amused smirk and made no move to help Harry when he tried to arrange the bed so the two of them could sleep without touching each other. He'd been tempted to make a barrier of pillows – but he didn't really have that many pillows and anyway, he hated Malfoy. He doubted his sleep-self would want to go near the prat.

Oh, how wrong he'd been.

His face was buried in Malfoy's hair – which was probably a good thing because then no one could see how badly his face was flaming red. His nose was pressed against Malfoy's neck and all he could smell was the musky scent of maleness and a strange mixture of apple and mint that had to Malfoy's unique scent and…God, that shouldn't be making him hard but it was.

His arm had thrown itself around the other boy sometime during the night and his leg had sneakily crossed over one of Malfoy's, pulling his crotch in line with Malfoy's arse.

Malfoy moved slightly and Harry's body froze – except for his cock which decided to twitch. Harry groaned quietly into Malfoy's hair – he was a dead man if Malfoy woke up now.

Stealing up all his famed courage Harry rolled over in one smooth movement, shifting himself all the way onto the opposite side of the bed and resting there, almost afraid to breath, as he watched Malfoy. When the other boy made no signs of waking Harry finally breathed out in relief.

Lying flat on his back he threw a hand across his eyes, thanking whoever was watching him for his luck. That had been a close one. Far too close. And he was still hard.

Gritting his teeth Harry tried to will it away but his cock refused to obey him. He looked over at Malfoy, thinking the sight would kill off whatever erotic thoughts he'd been having in his sleep.

Malfoy looked ridiculous in red, he decided as he looked at Malfoy's paler-than-pale features against the deep red of his Gryffindor sheets. His blond hair looked kind of good though…He wondered how soft it was. When Malfoy had been younger all that hair wax he'd put in it had made it look more like straw than hair but now…Now it just looked silky and it was more white than gold really and…And he should not be thinking like this.

He was aching and hard and Malfoy was just peacefully sleeping next to him, not doing anything except breathing and…Harry should not find that sexy. At all – except he kind of did if his cock was any indication

Uttering a curse Harry threw himself out of the bed, making his way into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He leant against the wall, sliding down it until his arse was resting on cold tiles and his head was thrown back looking at the ceiling.

Squeezing his eyes closed he threw caution away, thrusting his hand into his pyjama bottoms and grabbing his cock.

Fuck. He pressed his lips together, trying to stifle the moans and groans and started to tug lightly on his cock before wrapping his hand around it fully.

He thought of wet mouths, and tight heat and grabbing hold of blond hair, holding that mouth in place as thrust into into it over and over. He imagined the sucking that would alternate between gentle and hard, the slight nip of teeth that would drive him crazy. His mind immersed itself in the image of grey eyes looking up at him coyly as a tongue slipped over the head of his cock, sliding down and then…

He stuffed his fist into his mouth as he came, muffling his sounds of pleasure.

He'd just…he'd just wanked to the thought of Malfoy sucking him off.

The shock finally set in and Harry found himself locked in place, his wet trousers sticking to him and his eyes closed, this time in dismay. He couldn't wrap his mind around it all, his brain refused to accept the facts. Even though really it was just the one, simple fact that he'd wanked to Draco Malfoy that circled over and over again.

"Oh fuck," Harry muttered, finally moving his hand out of his trousers and looking in distaste at his hand. He wiped it on his pyjama trousers and slowly stood up, using the wall for support.

"Harry!" A voice suddenly cried from outside, "Get the hell out here right now!"

Harry grimaced, recognising Ron's voice. What the hell was wrong now? Looking around he grabbed one of the towels that hung on the wall – he thought it belonged to Dean – and used it to try and get rid of any evidence he'd left. There was still a patch of wetness on his trouser leg – a clear indicator of what he'd been doing – but he thought that if he kept his legs close and sort of shuffled he'd be able to hide the worst of it.

Taking a deep breath Harry steeled himself for whatever lay beyond the door. He opened it and walked out into – well, a warzone would be an apt description for the scene before him.

Malfoy stood beside his bed, wand out and waving wildly in front of him. Ron knelt beside his bed next to Harry's, his head peering around the side of his trunk and his wand set on Malfoy, Dean and Seamus were stood next to each, twin looks of confusion on their faces and Neville…Neville was nowhere to be seen as usual.

Moving as quickly as he could Harry placed himself between their wands and Malfoy, spreading his arms and hoping he looked as stubborn as he felt. "For God's sake put down your wands," he said, trying to infuse his voice with all the annoyance and exasperation he felt inside. Whilst most of him was still filled with shame over his own actions he could feel the irritation growing inside at his friend's behaviour.

"What the hell is going on?"

"What's going on?" Ron half-yelled at him; face red and wand still pointed – this time straight at Harry's chest. "I woke up and looked over at your bed to find Malfoy sleeping there," he almost spat the name, glaring at Malfoy's pale face, or what he could see of it around Harry's body. "And you nowhere in sight!"

Harry shoved a hand through his hair, cursing himself for letting the situation happen – he should've planned for the morning but they'd both just kind of fallen into bed and then Harry had fallen asleep and…woken up like he had. He shook his head fiercely, dislodging the useless thoughts. He couldn't change the way things had worked out, he just had to focus now and try to think of ways to diffuse it. He made what he hoped were calming motions with his hands, trying to convey a feeling of serenity that he as hell didn't feel in that moment.

"I bought Malfoy here last night," he finally said.

"You what?!" Ron screeched.

"You heard him Weasley," Malfoy piped up behind him in his most drawling voice, "I was invited here by Potter."

"Are you…are you sleeping with him?" Ron asked, looking at Harry with a kind of please-don't-let-this-be-true expression. He looked so desperate that Harry hurriedly opened his mouth to reassure him only for Malfoy to beat him to it.

"Potter and I do not have…" A pause that Harry could swear was filled with Malfoy's revulsion at the idea, "Relations of that sort Weasley."

Harry felt a little disgruntled at the amount of disgust in his words – was it really so horrifying a prospect? He didn't know why – and he never wanted to figure out the 'why' really – but the idea that Malfoy found the idea of dating him so horrible kind of hurt. If only a bit.

Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention Harry focused on Ron, figuring him to be the one most wound up. Dean and Seamus couldn't really give a toss who Harry brought into his bed – sure they were giving him queer looks but they were less likely to hex him for it. Ron however…Ron was looking at Malfoy with murder in his eyes.

"Look Ron, Malfoy and I aren't having sex," he snorted, "Hell we don't even really like each other. Malfoy's just having a bit of a hard time at the moment and I thought—"

"What did you think Potter?" Malfoy suddenly said behind him.

Turning around Harry took in Malfoy's flushed face, his glaring grey eyes and his hand, shaking with anger as he moved his wand away from Ron to point at Harry. Now he had four wands pointed at him, Harry thought wryly, it was almost like being in the war again.

"You thought you'd swoop in and save poor Malfoy? Well guess what? This Malfoy doesn't want, or need your help so you can get lost Potter!"

"You're the one who needs to get lost Malfoy!" Ron replied warningly, waving his wand for emphasis.

"Ron!" Harry cried in exasperation, watching with a kind of sinking feeling as Malfoy spun on his heel and left the room.

Harry collapsed onto his bed with a gusty sigh. Well, that had certainly gone well. He couldn't have handled it better could he?

He laughed softly. God he was so fucked.


"Malfoy! Malfoy wait!" Harry yelled at the retreating back. Blimey but the git was fast!

Harry had been trying to catch up to the other boy all day to no avail, Malfoy had continued to avoid him somehow but Harry thought he finally had him. He'd tracked him back to the Chamber of Secrets, catching sight of Malfoy just as slipped down the tubes. Harry had been quick to follow him but had stumbled and now Malfoy stood waiting for him in the Chamber, a stubborn look of refusal on his face.

"Whatever you've got to say Potter spit it out so you can leave and I can get on with my life."

Harry bit off a laugh, "Life? You call this a life Malfoy? This isn't what you call living unless you're a rat living in the sewers."

Malfoy scowled at him, "Did you just compare me to a rat Potter?"

"Yeah I did," Harry retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and facing off against Malfoy who looked a little less sure of himself. Good, Harry thought, he might just be able to do this if he could keep the git off his guard.

"I told you I was going to destroy the Chamber today, I'm not going to stop just because you want to stay down here."

"I don't want to stay here!" Malfoy blurted out, looking cross with himself for doing so. He bit his lip, seeming to struggle inwardly for a moment before continuing, "I've been forced down here if you must know. There's nowhere else for me to go."

"I offered to let you stay with me," Harry pointed out.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him, "Oh yes, that's a wonderful prospect, having to wake up to Weasley's freckles every morning and having him curse me in my sleep. No thank you Potter."

"I already talked to Ron," he hadn't but he planned to when this was over. "He's promised not to hex you or anything." Well, he would when Harry made him. "Dean and Seamus don't really care and Neville spends all his time over at Ravenclaw anyway so…please?"

"Again with the begging Potter," Malfoy replied, but his tone was…considering? Harry watched as Malfoy's eyes flicked around the Chamber, taking in the statue of Slytherin and the pillars before finally landing back on Harry.

"I put a lot of effort into making this place liveable after…after everything that happened," he said stiffly.

"I'm sure you did," Harry replied, trying to sound sympathetic without being condescending. It was a hard line, one he wasn't sure he managed when Malfoy's gaze visibly sharpened.

"I scrubbed the floor for weeks," Malfoy emphasised, gesturing to the floor which, Harry had to admit, was pretty clean for a Chamber infested with Dark Arts and Basilisk remains. Actually—

"What did you do with the Basilisk?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Malfoy smirked at him, putting one hand on his hip before he replied smugly, "I sold him off of course. Basilisk sales can sell for quite a lot if you know the right people."

Harry barely resisted snorting. "And you know the right people."

"Of course," Malfoy told him snidely. "I can't believe you never thought to do it before."

"I was twelve when I went up against the Basilisk Malfoy. I was kind of busy trying to stay alive to think about how much it would sell for."

Malfoy looked uncomfortable for a while before shaking his head warily, "How so like you Potter. Too busy trying to save the world to think of your own needs."

"I don't need money," Harry replied tersely.

"No you don't, do you? I did hear about the kind members of the public donating to the great cause that is Harry Potter," his voice sounded bitter but Harry couldn't even begin to guess at what. At Harry's perceived wealth? His fame? Both?

"The Malfoy vaults probably put mine to shame," he finally said when the silence began to grow uncomfortable. He shuffled his feet at Malfoy's incredulous look.

"You amaze me sometimes Potter," Malfoy said, managing somehow to make the sentence sound like the worst kind of insult. Harry bristled, ready to defend himself against whatever Malfoy had against him now when Malfoy's next words effectively shocked him into silence. "The Ministry tore through what was left of the Vault's after the war, my father and mother are both incarcerated at home and whatever is left of our money goes to Ministry to pay 'war reparations'." He spat the last words, his grey eyes turning stormy.

"You…you're poor?" The words were out before Harry could stop them and he immediately wished he could vanish on the spot at Malfoy's murderous look.

"Yes Potter, I'm poor and no, I don't want or need your stupid pity. Get out!" The words were shouted and Malfoy's hand clenched tighter around his wand.

Harry raised his hands, palms out towards Malfoy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that! I would never pity you Malfoy. I mean, you've fucked up a lot," Malfoy winced, "But you've come out of it and I think you can become better for it. You've had to face a lot in your life – a lot of stuff that most kids don't even think about and you've done the best you could and okay, most of the time you made some pretty bad decisions but you made them. That's more than can be said for a lot of people who lived during the war. And now that the wars over – now you can make amends and become someone who deserves to live in a time peace. Or - at least that's what I think." He finished somewhat lamely.

Malfoy stared at him quietly for so long that Harry was afraid he'd talked him into a stupor. Finally the other boy shook himself slightly, his hand dropping to his side, his grip loosening until the wand dropped to the floor with a dull thump.

Oh fuck. Malfoy was crying.

He didn't make any noise – if Harry hadn't had a clear view of his face he wouldn't have known that Malfoy was doing anything but standing there. He didn't sniffle, didn't bawl like some people did, didn't mutter to himself – the only thing to show his inner suffering were the twin tracks of tears down his face from his eyes.

Harry had never realised before how expressive Malfoy's eyes were. Before they'd always been filled with hate and anger and now…now the hatred had dimmed and the anger was still there, just brimming under the surface. Those grey eyes were swimming with sadness though, such despair that Harry couldn't help himself.

He moved without conscious though, crossing the room towards Malfoy and wrapping his arms around the other boy. He held him close, feeling the minute shudders that ran through Malfoy's body. He let one hand run over the other boy's back, just rubbing very slowly up and down, feeling Malfoy's head rest against his shoulder, those tears soaking into Harry's cloak, his skin wet from the impression of Malfoy's cheek against his neck.

He held himself as still as possible, just waiting for Malfoy to finish, to get a hold of himself so they could talk some more. He'd…he'd liked talking to Malfoy. Hell, he liked holding him. And he could curse himself for thinking like that when the other boy was fucking crying all over him. What kind of sick bastard was he? He seemed to get off on people crying all over him - still, at least Malfoy wasn't kissing him. And he was not disappointed in that fact. At all.

"Hey Malfoy," he said softly, turning his head slightly so that blond hair tickled his nose. "It's going to be okay."

"You're such a liar Potter," the words were muffled against Harry's shoulder but Harry could feel the shudders decreasing gradually until Malfoy was still against him.

The other boy pulled away, rubbing roughly at his cheeks, dropping his hands away and clenching them uselessly by his side. Malfoy's cheeks were pink – whether from the harsh treatment or from the shame of crying in front of his once-enemy Harry couldn't tell. His head was ducked, just ever so slightly and Harry could feel his own heart clenching in pity. He stooped slightly, grabbing Malfoy's wand and holding it out towards him, watching as Malfoy stared at his wand as if it were a foreign object before grabbing it.

Malfoy gave a soft laugh before tucking his wand and holding his hand out to Harry. "Let's try this again shall we? Hello, my name is Draco Malfoy. I'm an Ex-Death Eater and have lived in the Chamber of Secrets since the beginning of Eighth Year when I was kicked out of the Slytherin Common Room by my former friends."

Harry didn't even think, grasping Malfoy's hand in his decisively and holding onto it securely. "Hello my name is Harry Potter and I defeated the most evil bastard to ever step foot in the Wizarding World – with a lot of help from my friends. I love the Wizarding World more than anything and I want to see it healed. I want to help if I can and…and I want Draco Malfoy's help too. I want to be his friend if I can." His didn't know if his words sounded as wistful as they did in his head but when their hands dropped Malfoy was still looking at him with an open expression.

He looked…almost accepting. With a nod of his head Malfoy shook his wand back into his hand and looked at Harry with a mischievous expression. "Now that that's settled, let's get to this shall we?"

Harry nodded, smiling as he brandished his own wand. It was…wonderful this feeling, like they were co-conspirators. Like they were already friends. He knew they weren't, not yet anyway. Harry would do his best but a they had a lot of history to put behind him. Even so Harry knew that he'd try and if they weren't friends anytime soon…Well, maybe in the future.

It might take a long time but Harry was nothing if not stubborn – and he wanted this. Probably more than he even realised.