A/N-Laura went through this but mostly self betaed. Which like everything else about self service is twice the work and half the fun.
Chapter 7: "In the Dark"
i He was sitting on a high back chair looking down at a woman who was crouching at his feet. Her black hair covered her face as it fell down in strands, the black robe she wore was torn and her body shook uncontrollably.
"Why did I even bother breaking you out of prison if you keep on inconveniencing my plans?" he hissed irritably, spinning his wand in one hand. In the other hand, he held a small green cylindrical object, pointed at one end and blunt at the other, half the size of his palm.
"I'm sorry my lord, but…" the woman whispered from a throat hoarse from screaming. "I…I…"
"You really thought you could gain my favor this way?" he snarled, a sharp pang of satisfaction going through him as felt her fear.
"I thought Lucius…"
"Had nothing to do with thisss…" he hissed. "We are not yet ready for the Ceremony and you had to go and disrupt everything."
"Perhaps, I should use this on you," he said, brining up the small container. The woman whimpered in fear and looked through her hair at his hand… and Harry saw the face of Bellatrix Lestrange. /i
'Oh, please,' he thought, panicking. 'I'm in Voldemort's head again. I have to wake up.' He could feel the bed sheet under his hands and his feet, clad in socks, moving, trying to get free. He had to wake up before Voldemort realized he had an intruder and decided to pry into his mind. What if he was to find out about his blindness, or about where he was, at The Burrow or about Malfoy being with them or …
Harry struggled, trying to get free, his scar burning, his breath coming in gasps, and then he was awake. He could feel the bed sheets under him, the smell of the pillow, of Ron and something new, the smell of vanilla and spice and …and he was still in the dark. He could hear the birds outside and the voices downstairs but he couldn't see anything. He lifted his hand to his face, to pry open his eyes so he could see. How had he gotten to bed? All he could remember was going up the stairs talking to Malfoy, civilly and then nothing. Where was he, why couldn't he see?
Harry clawed at his face desperately, he had to open his eyes, he had to see where he was, was it still a dream. What if it was still a dream and he was still inside Voldemort's mind. He had to get out, now.
"Potter," the voice was insistent. "Cut it out, Potter, before you scratch your eyes out."
"What?" Harry said, clawing at his face, his nails scratching his face. "I can't see!"
"Of course you can't, you moron, you're blind," the voice said in exasperation and Harry finally recognized it.
"I'm blind," Harry said then went over what he had just said. "I'm not blind, just wake me up." One jagged nail broke the skin under his eye but he still couldn't seem to wake up. He needed to see his surroundings and he could feel the darkness pressing on him, stifling him from all directions. He needed to see…
"Gouging your eyes is not going to help you regain your sight, Potter," the voice said and suddenly, two strong hands closed over his own and brought them down.
"Malfoy," he gasped.
"Wait, I'll call somebody," Malfoy said, getting up.
"No!" Harry said. He couldn't let his friends see him like this, sweaty and confused with scratch marks on his face. "I…just forgot for a moment that I'm …blind."
"Now that's settled, I suggest you stop repeating yourself…" Malfoy said and Harry felt the air movement as his companion started to walk away.
"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, slightly panicked that he was going to be left all along.
"Went down for lunch. Said you can come down when ever you feel like it," Malfoy said, casually, his voice sounding further.
"Why…aren't you there?" Harry asked, feeling more and more desperate. He did not want to be left in the room with his thought along.
"Didn't feel hungry," Malfoy said, casually sounding even further.
"Don't go," Harry blurted out finally. "I…I don't want to…" He stood up and reached out in the direction of the voice, desperate for human contact after all.
"You want, Potter?"
The voice was more curious than malicious, and feeling encouraged, Harry leaped forward, "don't want to be left alone." The moment the words were out of his mouth Harry regretted them, wincing, wondering how the blond was going to use it for his advantage. He reached for his face again, maybe his eyes were shut and if he could open them then…
Suddenly he was gripped fiercely and he could feel the presence of someone standing just next to him. "Potter, don't you…"
Harry struggled, feeling light headed and unreal. He was blind; blind and they had left him all alone in a room. Where was everyone, why was he blind, he couldn't see. "I can't see…" he mumbled.
"We've settled that already," Malfoy told him dryly.
"I'm blind," Harry repeated, stupidly. Suddenly his body was shaking as the truth sank in, he was not going to be able to go down the steps for lunch, he was not going to be able to see the terrible orange bed spreads that belongs to Ron, he was not going to see Ginny or be able to fly or be able to anything. He was stuck, he couldn't even find is clothes and how was he to going to …he was shaking, his eyes filling up with tears….
The hands that enveloped him were warm and surprisingly comfortable. "Potter, Potter," the voice was also soothing. "Don't you have a nervous break down now."
"I…I…" Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm…blind…"
"Here, sit down before you faint, you look like Myrtle," Malfoy guided him back to the bed and as he sank to the bed sat down beside him. Harry found his hands going around the other boy's waist finding comfort in the fact he was holding on to something solid.
"I think I'm going to be sick," he mumbled.
"Potter, if you do something disgusting like puke on me, I'm going to rub your nose in it," Malfoy said as Harry leaned against him. His cheek brushed the bare chest were the shirt buttons were open and he once again inhaling the familiar scent he had smelled on the pillow.
"Your nose if longer than mine," Harry told him, feeling comforted by the steady heartbeat under him. The body under him was slender, chest hard and he could feel the ribs under his palms. But it was also strong. The hands around him were sturdy and firm. One hand was drawing circles on his back and he closed his eyes and relaxed.
"Potter, I'm insulted," Malfoy drawled, a hint of a smile on his voice and Harry realized that his voice was nice, especially when it was not insulting or sarcastic.
"They told me I couldn't see, at St. Mungo's but then with everyone around… it didn't seem so real," Harry mumbled against the chest trying to explain what had happened. A part of his brain was screaming in horror, he was burying his face in Malfoy's, Draco Malfoy's chest. He might as well find comfort with Voldemort while he was at it. Another part of his was basking in the security he felt at being held in a warm pair of strong hands.
"You had a shock," Malfoy said, and Harry listened to his voice through the chest. For someone who was slender, Malfoy was strong and his body well toned. Nothing about him felt soft under his hands and Harry could feel well-defined muscles under his shirt.
"Thanks," Harry said, softly.
Malfoy didn't reply but his hand continued to trace circles on his back while the other tightened a little. There was a sigh and he felt a pointed chin resting on the top his head, and felt strangely safe. No one had held him so; neither Hermione, Ron, Sirius or even Dumbledore, people whom he consider to be family, had ever held him as if he was fragile. No one had ever picked him up and told him that he could relax a little until it was the time to go save the world. The two boys sat in silence, Harry smelling the familiar scent of vanilla and musk, the soft chest hairs tickling his cheek, feeling relaxed after weeks of tension.
He had no idea how long they sat like that until Harry realized he was in a rather compromising position with a person he considered his enemy. But somehow he didn't care. He was, in fact, tempted to put his tongue out and lick the chest his head was resting against. Did it taste of vanilla or did it taste different? What would it be like to take a small nip … the sound of footsteps on the staircase broke their embrace and they moved away feeling a little shy. When a few second later, Ron gamboled into the room with a description of something he had eaten, Harry was leaning against the headboard of the bed, looking refreshed.
break
Moving house turned out to be a nightmare. They were all broken into small groups and moved in Ministry vehicles where necessary. However, to an outside observer, it was to look as if only the Weaselys were moving house – which meant that a few selected personnel had to find alternate means of transport to their destination. This involved Harry, Tonks, Malfoy and Remus taking the Knight Bus. After listening to Malfoy vomit all the way up to London, while complaining about the state of Magical Transportation they had all arrived at Grimmauld Place looking (according to Tonks) slightly green and bedraggled.
The house was no better. After almost two years of disuse it had turned into, according to Ron, a dust covered tarantula cave. The house-elves working non-stop had only managed to clean the kitchen and a few bedrooms. There was a dank smell of death prevailing inside, of something rotting under the floorboards and even Hermione gagged at the smell. Malfoy, still queasy from the bus ride, promptly threw up on his traveling robe and Remus' feet, before breaking down in a stream of curses, until Molly had boxed his ears. The fact that the twins gave a commentary about the whole incident ("projectile vomiting, is it puke yellow, bro?") which they claimed solely for the benefit of Harry who could not see only aggravated Malfoy's foul mood. Things had deteriorated afterwards, with Malfoy cursing fat redheaded females with litter of Weasels, until George had stuffed a rag into his mouth.
"I absolutely refuse to stay here," Malfoy protested for the third time in a row, at which Ron finally lost his temper. Harry was surprised he'd even managed to hold on to it for so long.
"The front door is always open, Ferret, you might as well leave," he snapped in a strangled voice which made Harry wonder who was hanging on to whom. He was finding out that being blind was tedious.
He did not have the practice of being 'visually impaired' as Hermione had called it - that mainly meant he could not read a person's expression and therefore, could not guess how they were feeling or whether they were addressing him or someone standing next to him. The most annoying of all was Mad-Eye Moody who called any male below the age of mid-twenty as either 'boy' or 'you there'. While he had read stories of blind heroes who with their trusted canine sidekicks had saved the world, Harry did not think he was cut out to be one.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, in a resigned tone. "I think there's a camp bed some where, we'll put it in your room unless…"
"Our room…" Ron exclaimed.
"I'm not going to share a room with him," Harry protested at the same time remembering the incident from midday. He could not help but wonder what had happened and something nagging in the back of his mind suggested he should stay away from Malfoy as much as possible.
"Seems like you have everything under control," Remus muttered under his breath as he skirted by Harry and he got a whiff of perfume as Tonks strolled past as well.
"You were leaving," Fred informed Malfoy coolly, not at all pleased that the blond had insulted his mother.
"I was," the haughty tone sounded subdued and Harry heard him falter.
"Look, it's either your room or ours," Hermione said reasonably, ignoring every one else. Harry realized that for all his bluster, Malfoy really could not leave since he didn't have anywhere else to go. "Malfoy will have to be watched over. We can't put him in the twins' bedroom since they'll be gone soon and we can hardly put him in the same room with Mad-Eye Moody."
"We can," Ron said, sounding gleeful. "He's the only one who has a room of his own."
"Ok, that's decided," Harry said, brusquely reaching for Ginny whom he was sure was standing close by. "Let's go to our room. Malfoy, you can share your room with…"
"On second thoughts, Potter…" The tone was bordering on insulting though no one was fooled. "…I'd be delighted to share a room with you. I've always wondered about how you …Gryfindorks sleep."
"I'm not sleeping with him the same room," Ron protested loudly over the sniggering of the twins – aimed at Malfoy – Harry assumed. "He'll strangle us in our sleep."
"I'll do no such thing," Malfoy said, sounding insulted. "Strangling is so time consuming and tedious… I'd much rather use an axe."
"Why not a chainsaw while you are at it," Harry muttered under his breath remembering one of his fat cousin's favorite movies he had been forced to endure. He could hear Hermione stifling a laugh in the background and was grateful that at least she had understood what he had meant. Living with an all wizard family meant that no one understood his Muggle references.
"Think of all the blood on the bed sheets," one of the twins muttered.
"I didn't think the Malfoys were messy," the other one added. "We've got to go now."
"You're leaving?" Ron said, sounding aghast.
"Have to, we've left the shop unattended long enough. Our new assistant just doesn't know how to handle kids at all so, we should be there before closing up to tally the merchandise."
"Will you be back for dinner?" Ginny inquired, sounding like her mother.
"Probably not," said one of the twins, apologetically. They were standing together and Harry could not even place them properly. "We'll try." And then there was a double pop as they Apparated leaving, the five of them standing in an uncomfortable group.
"We should have asked them to move the spare bed before they'd left," Hermione said, sounding annoyed.
"Why Granger, didn't know you cared," Malfoy said, insinuatingly.
Harry half expected Ron to burst out with something and was surprised to hear his friend laugh instead. "Hermione doesn't have any house-elves to fuss over right now so she's probably going to treat you as her new rescue mission," he offered.
The trio plus Draco walked up to their rooms slowly so Harry would not fall on the stairs, Ginny having left voluntarily to help her mother to cook and to try and placate her, aware that Molly was in a bad mood. Hermione, Harry had noticed, hadn't offered to help her and he could not but wonder if there was something wrong between the two girls. The bushy haired girl did not have any close female friends from school and he wasn't sure if her home life was any different. But she had always been close to Ginny until now, so he was sure that something was underfoot.
"Landing," Hermione informed Harry, helpfully as they reached the famous section of the staircase where the now silent picture of Sirius's mother was hanging. Harry nodded his thanks, though he had been holding on to the railing and could feel the difference.
"Who's that?" Malfoy asked, suddenly his interest taken up by the portrait of the mad female who was probably sprouting insults at them although now all they could see was her moving lips. Hermione had come up with a sphere of silence, which could be cast around the portrait enclosing it so that sound wouldn't get though. It had to be renewed daily which was a simpler task that trying to shut her up.
"Mrs. Black," Ron informed him. "Your great aunt I think…can see the family resemblance."
"If she is my aunt," Malfoy said, thoughtfully. "…this house, what is it… I thought Potter owned it?"
"I forgot," Harry said dryly, moving forward. "Malfoy, welcome to the most Ancient and Noble House of Black. I'll take you to see the family tapestry later on if you're interested. Your mother is on it but by now, your name might not be there any more."
break
By night fall, Harry and his friends had another frustrating day, as they were not allowed to attend the Order meeting being held in the kitchen. The Order was supposed be in session the next day, with a lot of important things to attend to but their request to attend it was met with interference.
"No," Molly Weasely said in a firm tone.
"But Mum…" said Ron.
"We are full members of the Order so…" said Fred
"…we can come," said George.
"We are members too and moreover we live here so it concerns us…"Ginny pointed out.
Harry stood extremely still trying not to get over whelmed by the sound of all the people chattering over his head.
"Maybe Molly they really ought to come," Lupin pointed out. "They do live here and any decision we make will affect them. And Harry i is /i involved in all this." But Lupin was not Sirius and did not have any legal right to say so.
"No!"
"But Mum, they'll just tell me what happened anyway," Ron said.
"Upstairs I say…"
"No…I live here"
"Now, young lady…"
"No, no no …" Ginny said, stamping her foot and screaming. Harry was glad that Malfoy was locked in their room and did not have to see their arguments.
"But, I do need to speak to everyone," Harry protested, remembering his dream. He had all but forgotten about it during the move but now he remembered he needed to tell everyone about it. He knew it was stupid to withhold such information and from what he had managed to tell Hermione she agreed with him about it
"Don't you think it's my decision?" Molly said, angrily. "I'm the closest thing to mother and you should listen to me once in a while. I remember having a similar …conversation with Sirius before and …"
"You made him feel bloody awful about it," Harry said angrily, remembering the incident. "You told him he was mixing me up with my father."
"Well, he was," Molly said, firmly. "You're too young to be making such decision at your age. You have no idea…"
"I'm not too young for this…"
"But dear in your condition…" Molly started.
"You make it sound as if it's life threatening," Harry said glaring in the direction of Mrs. Weasley's voice. (Actually she made it sound as if he was pregnant) "It's temporary."
"As long as you stay under my roof as my son…"
"It's my roof," Harry ground out, annoyed by the tone Mrs. Weasely used on him as if he was an invalid. "And you're not my mother…"
"Well then…" Mrs. Weasley's tone was cold and overly polite and he could hear the silence in the background, which meant everyone was listening. "Since I'm no longer needed here I'll just cook. After all that's what I am isn't it… a cook in the house."
"I didn't mean that," Harry said, reaching forward blindly towards where he assumed the angry woman to be but she did not come towards him and by her silence informed her that she did not wish to touch him.
"You are not attending the meeting," Mrs. Weasely had snapped out at everyone in general, before storming off, leaving them all standing in an uncomfortable circle.
