AnyankaElie mentioned the the previous chapter seemed slow, and I agree! I apologize. I needed to put certain things in place, so to speak. I hope this one is better!
Chapter Seven: Thursday the 25th of January 1997.
Draco had not slept; instead he had wept. For what he didn't even know; but as soon as he had found himself alone, his body had started shaking. Two nights now that this had been going on and he felt himself trembling of fatigue. He put a glamour on to go to class, and stayed clair of all contact. Not that anyone would approach him. His friends had deserted him; or rather he had left them; and he was, not to mince words, just not likeable enough for anyone to get near him.
He supposed, with some form of comfort, that Potter had always been different; and that even hateable as he had been towards him, Potter had always been there. As he was now; standing on a corner of the corridor, clearly waiting. The corridor was empty, because Draco was too tired to see where he was going, and he had thus taken a wrong turning. How Potter knew this, he did not know; and he couldn't be bothered to ask.
Normally the sight of Potter triggered a chain of reaction: some form of amusement mixed with sick excitement, then annoyance and chest pressure - as he now commonly calls it. He doesn't analyse this; might be interesting if he does. Anyhow, that is on a normal day; it is not a normal day, afterall. Today Draco feels no excitement or amusement; now he feels contempt and a sick form of pain at seeing him. Somewhere deep in him the excitement is still there. Potter looked at him and pushed himself off the wall and towards him.
"Can we talk?" He asked soberly and with an edge of tiredness. Draco found that annoyance had reached him sooner than expected.
"No. We cannot" Was his only answer as he turned to walk away. A hand roughly grabbed his.
"No wait!" He said. And Draco stopped, yanking his arm back.
"What is it Potter?" He retorted aggressively "What in Merlin's name is it now? Do you feel lonely up there in your shack? Do you need another wolf is that it? Or maybe some meat?"
Potter sighed heavily.
"Don't be so bloody ridiculous" He replied with half a groan "I… oh fuck I don't know"
Draco frowned at him and observed his equally confused look for a moment. He then pouffed.
"Well if that was all" And he turned. His arm was once again grabbed and he stopped for the last time. Potter groaned once more and turned round. He slammed his foot against the wall with an exasperated yell. He seemed so agitated. He put his hands on the wall and leaned his forehead against it. Draco didn't get it.
"What the hell is it Potter?" He asked, fearing that now something might truly happen. Potter looked at him.
"I'm not sure" He answered tiredly "I hardly even know why it makes me act like this"
Their eyes locked and Draco's heart felt worse than when it was listening to the screams. He suddenly felt so hot, and yet so cold. Potter moved closer to him.
"I don't know. I really don't know" He continued "All I do know is: You calm my wolf"
Draco looked closely into his gaze, looking for a lie; but he could only see a fire somewhere; and that infuriated him more than anything.
"You don't look so damn calm now" He rolled his eyes.
"I said my wolf. You annoy me to bits. Just my disease or whatever seems to be fond of you"
"Well tell it to stop already, cause I sure as hell am not fond of it"
"I can't help it. I-"
"You what Potter?!" Draco finally snapped and in parts of him he felt he was going mad. That this was not normal "What do you want from me? Do you want me to hold your fucking hand while you transform? Sing you a lullaby that you can howl to maybe?"
Draco passed a hand nervously through his hair. Merlin it all felt mad; they felt mad. Potter looked only a little calmer.
"No. Will you just shut up for a minute?" He breathed "Look. Whatever it is, it means that I might be able to go through a full moon without tearing myself apart"
"So you do want me to hold your hand?! Well fuck you"
Potter looked at him and for a moment they both seemed to be drifting away, into something they do not realise.
"I don't know what you're getting so upset about. You're not the one becoming the animal out there" His voice sounded a whisper and Draco couldn't help but wonder if he was right or not.
"Don't" He replied "Don't you dare drag me into that. I will report you to the daily profit; you will be unmasked"
Potter moved closer to him, as if he was trying to impose himself. Though Draco's body seemed allergic to this proximity, he was also taller and he seemed stronger. Potter stared at him, almost as if he could hardly see him.
"You won't" He whispered. That voice sent a shiver down his back and as it moved up and in, right into his heart, it shook a core in him. It triggered his fury and he stood back.
"Try me" He replied and lifted his fist swiftly, slammed it right against Potter's nose. He heard and only half satisfied he turned and left. This time no hand stopped him and he felt the sweat break out on his back. He felt disgusting; he felt heavy and so completely done. His mind is not used to it and it is retaliating. So he ran away.
""""""""
"Mister Malloy?" A faraway voice called; death maybe? "Mister Malloy?"
It was no longer asking him, it was giving an order. But I don't want to. He looked at the tip of his quill, the droplet of ink was falling down on his parchment and he just stared. Till a sigh was heard next to him and he got prodded. He looked up to McGonagall's face, and she seemed less than happy.
"Yes? Professor?" He asked hesitantly. She made an exasperated noise.
"I have asked you a single question, approximately four times now. Where is your head today?"
Draco wanted to answer that the best he could but he stopped for a moment. And then he made a half chuckle and replied:
"I don't know" He realised that it was true. He frowned at himself and added "I'm sorry Professor; might I leave? I'm not feeling all that well"
"You don't look a hundred percent indeed. Do you need to be escorted?"
"No that's alright thank you Professor" He got up and took his things quickly. Behind him McGonagall added:
"Do be careful Mister Malfoy; you have missed a considerable amount of lessons already"
Draco just nodded and left the classroom. He felt that if he went anywhere Potter would find him and eat him, or fuck him; or do whatever his wolf is fond of doing. So he went to the cabinet. His regular. As the secret door closed behind him he felt like a secret too. He looked at the cabinet with a passive look and nothing in him was there to repair it. Fucking thing. Then there was something else, standing ominously in his view, still hidden behind a sheet. Oh Draco knew it was there; could feel its presence looming behind him every time he was in the room.
He walked towards it in a slow pace. Wondering whether or not he'd ever be ready to face what it is that it showed. He took his cloak off, revealing himself but keeping the thing hidden. It stood tall above his head, forcing him to be. He breathed in and grabbed a corner of the sheet, sliding it to the side. In the upper corner he saw his arm reflected in the mirror. It was blank; there was no dark Mark. He pulled it back and turned away. He stood between them both, the cabinet and the mirror, lost amongst the meaning of them both. He suddenly felt angry again; angry and disappointed; but somehow relieved in the knowledge. He knew what it meant, somewhere he had always known; and he knew what the mirror would show him, he understands but is still too fearful to see it. Weak.
And in that knowledge he felt weak, he felt vulnerable; and he felt so much like he did when he was a kid, not understanding those feelings that no one would describe to him. He was lost in it once more, in there and then. He touched the cabinet slowly and searched deep within him, where he still felt a surge of pride at being at the front row of this grand enterprise, of winning. So he took his wand and examined the wood that he started to know by heart. He could find no fault in the cracks, yet it was not succeeding. He was tired of going through birds, killing them one by one, and wondering if that is what his future holds; he supposed it does.
Thus death strikes again and another one bites the dust. They no longer have wings to fly, as Draco's own had crumpled long since. But nothing really matters. He realised idly that his father used to repeat a phrase in his youth: You must take every chance you can to succeed; success is the key to power; and power is everything. But who will succeed? The boy or the animal? Draco almost smiled as he remembered that Potter is the boy and the animal; and the Dark Lord is just the animal. So the key to guaranteed success - though less strong in either case - would be to have an asset in every situation.
He grabbed the dead bird, his shirt and left the cabinet unfinished and the mirror covered. He felt an itch and followed it; it was usually right.
He found Potter on the grounds, throwing stones to ricochet on the lac. Even his throw was tired and slow; and all the rocks fell like bricks in the water. Draco approached and grabbed a stone on the way. He threw it and it bounced three times. Potter turned to him.
"Nice shot" He said and tried another himself "So did you sell me to the news?"
Draco stood still, watching the ripples on the surface.
"Squeeter was busy" He replied "And I know how fond you are of her"
They stood there for a moment, not saying anything, until in the end Potter added:
"I didn't think you'd talk to me again; without trying to kill me of course"
"I didn't think so either" He waited and sighed "But I got something"
He searched his pockets and then opened his hand to Potter. His skin stung where they touched. Potter looked at the animal in his fingers.
"Fresh meat"
Potter laughed at that; Draco almost did too, at the ridicule of this entire situation. They sat down on the cold grass, each performing a silent warming spell.
"What else do you know?" Draco finally wondered. Potter shrugged and held his knees against his chest.
"Not all that much if I'm honest" He answered "I think" He looked at Draco "It's because we passed the New Year together. It's created some kind of Bond between us"
"Oh how nice. So we're like mates?"
"Hardly. It's not even that much I guess. Like I said, having you around calms my wolf that's all"
Draco paused and thought of this. He smirked.
"I'd go on exactly as you were if I were you" He said "The marks have a bad boy thing going on. Girls like that"
Potter smiled with a shrug.
"Oh I'll bet. Not that I'm very popular with the ladies anyway"
"I thought you had a ginger on your arm"
"At some point yes. Not anymore. End of story"
They said no more. They just sat there for a moment. Draco was lost in something, they both were. Not mates and no longer enemies. They were something beyond enemy lines, something in the middle of nowhere. He looked at him and frowned.
"What is it like, becoming a wolf?" He asked.
"Painful. Weird. Powerful"
Draco wondered how it was that he felt powerful, when his inner animal felt so weak.
