Chapter 7

"Malfoy?"

Of course it could get worse.

Potter standing in front of him qualified as worse.

He looked at him with concern, which was clearly fake and asked: "Are you alright?"

"Splendid, Potter, splendid. Now, would you mind...? I'm rather busy."

Draco was still wheezing pretty hard and cursed inwardly at the embarrassing, unintentional display of weakness in front of Potter. Again.

"With what? Collapsing?"

"It's none of your business, so sod off."

"What are you doing down here anyway?" Potter's tone got more irritated.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Am I not enunciating right? I said: It's none of your business."

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Why are you such a nuisance?"

Potter began to bristle with anger.

"You know what, Malfoy, I don't care what..."

But Draco never got to hear what Potter didn't care about, because Tara had come back. She shoved Draco rather hard against the wall so that he hit his head and fell to the floor. He scrambled away from her and tried to get up but the corridor seemed to move in a very unrealistic way, which reminded him of Apparating with his father but it wasn't his intention to do that right now, so this was obviously something else. He decided to sit down and lean against the wall. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and fought against nausea.

Tara stepped in front of him. She was furious and Draco expected her to hit him but instead she shouted at him: "You are such a hypocrite, Malfoy! You threatened me, blackmailed me... The things you said to me...You made me cry. I was so afraid of getting expelled. How could you?! When you're obviously not better than me. No wait, you're worse, much worse! Because your father..."

"Shut up!" Draco screamed and got to his feet immediately.

"Why? Are you afraid of getting expelled?" Tara sneered at him. "I bet if Harry here knew, he'd go straight to Dumbledore. Should I tell him?"

Draco pointed a finger at her and snarled "You shut your face!"

"Oh, yeah? I'm not afraid of you anymore. You're powerless", she chuckled.

Aaargh!

How the hell did this happen?!

Everything had been fine ten minutes ago, well not fine, but way better than this.

His head was throbbing so hard he couldn't think.

Cold and unfeeling, he was cold and unfeeling. Cold and unfeeling. He could handle this.

"Listen. Give me back the box I gave you for safekeeping and we're done. I'll keep your secret, you'll keep mine and we go our separate ways", he hoped the desperation he felt wasn't audible.

"Hmm...sounds reasonable, except, I can't give you your box back, you see, I was very angry when I ran back to my room. And to get back at you, I threw the box away." Tara sneered again. Clearly happy about the devastating look on Draco's face.

"You did WHAT?!", he screamed.

"I threw it into the lake. Have fun looking for it."

"Oh, you stupid little...", Draco couldn't finish the sentence. His anger drove him towards her, his fist raised, ready to beat the life out of her. But Potter, oh of course, Potter stepped in and pushed him back against the wall and away from Tara. She laughed and walked slowly back to the entrance to Hufflepuff house.

"Don't worry, Malfoy, I'll keep your secret, as long as you keep mine", she said and disappeared into one of the barrels.

No, no, no, nonononono.

This can't be happening, Draco thought, as panic slowly started to grab him by his throat, squeezing it shut. He had worked so hard and so long to create this poison. He had put his mind and body through hell for it and that stupid Hufflepuff girl ruined it all in a matter of seconds.

Threw it into the lake?!

How could she!

Ignorant little brat!

What was he supposed to do now?

Could he get it back somehow?

Was it still intact?

Was the box watertight?

He didn't know, he just didn't know. He felt lightheaded and weak. Was someone calling his name?

"Malfoy! Calm down, will you. You are breathing too fast."

Was he?

Oh, yes, he was.

But he couldn't breathe slower, he couldn't calm down.

The Dark Lord was already getting impatient and now Draco's plan had been shattered. How was he supposed to kill Dumbledore now? His Avada Kedavra was probably only strong enough to kill a spider, a mouse, or other small animals, but not a grown man, much less a wizard as skilled as Dumbledore. Oh, this was bad. This was really bad. He had to get that box back! But how? Somehow his thoughts began to retreat. He couldn't reach them anymore.

"Malfoy?... Malfoy!"

Before the Slytherin's body could hit the floor, Harry caught him and made sure that he wouldn't hit his head on the stone floor. The loud fight before and now the unconscious boy in front of Harry had caught the attention of several students, who were now gathering around them. He heard them whisper but only caught snippets of their hushed conversations.

"Did Potter kill him?"

"What happened?"

"...probably hexed him..."

"I heard Malfoy is losing his mind..."

"...can't even do the simplest spells..."

"...how thin he is."

"...said he's sick."

"...hate each other."

"...should call a teacher..."

"Is he dead?"

Harry didn't know what to do. He kneeled next to the unconscious Slytherin, who really looked like he was dead, as pale and skinny as he was. But he was still breathing and fortunately, slower than before. That was a good thing.

Oh, man! Why did trouble always find him? He hadn't been looking for Malfoy, or as Ron had put it, been obsessed with him for at least...well, a few days now. When he had walked down to the kitchen, he had simply wanted to pay a visit to Dobby.

Suddenly, he noticed the presence of two people standing right next to him and one of them whispered: "Harry, what's going on? Did you off him?"

Harry relaxed when he identified the voice as Ron's and he answered: "No, I didn't. He fainted."

Ron chuckled and from the sound of it, Hermione hit him in the side for that. "That's not funny", she said: "Let's get him away from all the people first. Into the kitchen maybe? Go on Ron, help him."

Harry nodded and looked at Ron, who wrinkled his nose at the prospect of having to help carrying Malfoy.

They managed to carry him into the kitchen, away from the glares of the students. In here, they wouldn't be stared at. The house-elves had too much to do and if curiosity got the better of them, it was solely expressed with a quick glance in their direction. Only Dobby came running towards them.

"Harry Potter", he squeaked with delight but as soon as he saw Malfoy he looked worried.

"Hi, Dobby. Can we stay here for a bit? Malfoy passed out in the corridor and we want to make sure he's okay. There are too many people outside."

"Of course. Harry Potter and his friends can stay here as long as they want to", the elf said but he eyed Malfoy carefully. He was still wary of his former master.

"Can Dobby help somehow?"

Harry smiled at him as he answered: "Thank you, Dobby. But we are just going to wait for him to wake up. We might need your help to get Madam Pomfrey, if he doesn't wake up though."

"Of course, Dobby can do that, just call. Dobby has to go back to work now." Dobby bowed and disappeared into the crowd of busy elves.

"I don't get it, Harry", Ron said: "Why are we nice to Malfoy? He's never been nice to us."

"In case you've forgotten, he's got a task from Voldemort and I need to find out what it is and I won't get any answers if I keep avoiding him. I saw him fighting with Tara Byrne just before he passed out. She talked about some secrets they both had and about how Malfoy had been blackmailing her and about a box that she threw into the lake. It made him really angry and then he started to hyperventilate and passed out. I bet this has something to do with the task", Harry explained and at the same time he tried to convince himself that this was the only reason for helping Malfoy. But deep down, he knew that there was something else that drove him. A feeling he couldn't quite name. Was it commiseration? Maybe a bit. Ever since Malfoy had clung to him in that bathroom and had poured his heart out to him, Harry felt different towards him. The Slytherin wasn't just a spoilt, rich brat anymore. Underneath it all, he was suffering. He had to be something he didn't want to be and had to do things he didn't want to do and all because of Voldemort. Voldemort was ruining Malfoy's life, just like he was continuously ruining Harry's. Harry was able to relate to the Slytherin now and somehow...he couldn't explain it...but he felt a strong need to help Malfoy. He wanted to take him as far away from Voldemort as possible. It was really strange and he wasn't sure if he liked it. The whole thing was too confusing and that was why he wouldn't tell Ron or Hermione about it.

Harry took his robe off, folded it (or tried to anyway) and used it as a makeshift cushion for Malfoy. The Slytherin was lying on the cold floor, so this was the least Harry could do. Ron frowned and looked at Harry in a way that was saying Have you lost your mind? Fortunately, Malfoy chose this moment to stir. He groaned and opened his eyes. He looked at them in growing confusion and inhaled as if he was about to say something but then hesitated. Finally, he seemed to have made up his mind and asked: "How did I get here?"

"We carried you in here. Your fight with Tara has attracted quite the crowd, so we thought, we get you away from there", Harry answered and he was about to say something else, but Hermione chimed in: "Are you alright? Should we get you to the hospital wing? Or maybe call someone? Madame Pomfrey? Snape? Or your friends, Crabbe and Goyle?"

Ron rolled his eyes but thankfully Malfoy didn't see that, as Ron was standing behind him.

"I'm fine", the Slytherin mumbled and got up, but as soon as he stood, he swayed alarmingly and Harry grabbed his arm to make sure he wouldn't fall to the floor a second time. He supported him to the nearest chair and told him to sit down. He then went to one of the elves and asked him for a glass of water. In a matter of seconds, four glasses of water, as well as four mugs, tea and cookies appeared on the table next to where Malfoy sat. Harry blinked a few times in astonishment at the swiftness of the elf and about his decision to serve them more than just a glass of water. He seemed to know what they needed, even if they haven't thought of it themselves yet.

Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at each other for a moment and then decided to sit down at the table as well. Harry poured tea into the mugs and handed one to each of them. He also took two cookies from the plate (to save them from Ron) and put them in front of Malfoy.

"Eat something. It'll help."

The Slytherin glared at him in defiance and Harry shrugged his shoulders. He wouldn't fight with him over that. At least Malfoy accepted the tea.

"What happened out there, with Tara? What was your fight about?" Harry asked instead.

Oh, great.

The three investigators were on to him.

Now what?

He had to come up with something, and fast.

"She's my girlfriend...well...ex-girlfriend now. Obviously."

Could this work?

Would they be fooled by this?

Potter called out a confused "What?", Weasley was chocking on a cookie and Granger simply frowned.

She would be the hardest to fool. She wasn't stupid. But to his surprise, Weasley was the one who voiced his scepticism first.

When he was done coughing, he said: "You really expect us to believe that? You and a girl from Hufflepuff? Your father would throw a fit."

"You always do what your father wants you to do, Weasley?"

"No, but you do."

Well, darn.

That was true.

Out of fear and because of an ever present need to make his father proud of him (which was of course, virtually impossible), he did everything his father wanted him to do.

His facial expression must have betrayed him, because Weasley said: "Look at him, he's obviously lying."

Granger nodded, but Potter was staring at him like a deranged and mumbled disbelieving: "You had a girlfriend?"

"Harry, come on, Tara is not a pureblood. He would have never dated her."

Oh, Granger was right. He forgot about that.

Well, it had been a stupid choice for a white lie.

There was only one thing to do now; he had to get out of here.

They won't believe it? Fine. He didn't have to explain anything to them.

"You asked, I gave you an answer. I don't care if you believe it, or not." Draco got up, but this time slowly to avoid fainting in front of them again. He grabbed his things and walked towards the door.

"What's in the box? Why did it upset you so much that Tara threw that box into the lake?", Harry called after him but Draco decided to ignore him.

As he left the kitchen, he heard Weasley shout: "A 'thank you' would have been nice, Malfoy."

He pretended not to hear that as well and headed for the dungeons.