A/N: Yep. More with the procrastinating and getting lost in my own story. I write too much :grin: Thanks for the awesome reviews!
Chapter Eight.
Draco chewed his fingernails nervously down to the quick. He'd been wide awake since that evening, having fallen gracefully back into bed after the trio left. He'd snuggled shamelessly in the scent of Harry and lulled himself into a deep sleep after convincing himself that there was no way Harry could be anywhere near the raid yet.
Upon waking, however, he was lonely and scared, wondering when the hell he'd grown bloody feelings for that stupid git. Deciding to take full advantage of his newfound freedom, Draco had quickly located the nearest bathroom. He filled the bath nearly to the brim with hot water and sunk gratefully into the relaxing warmth. His muscles ached from his past two night's activities on top of the past few weeks of sleeping on that lumpy sofa.
While he soaked—lamenting despondently over the lack of his expensive hygiene products—his mind wandered to Harry and the other Aurors. What kind of training was Harry getting? Did they really think he stood a chance against the Dark Lord? Why did they lock him up in safe-houses when he could be out there fighting for the Light?
Draco washed his hair thoroughly while all these thoughts swam around in his head. Though he complained, he was eternally grateful for the use of the bath and generic products that lined the shelves. He'd thankfully had his own powder room attached to his office-turned-prison, but it contained only a toilet, sink and a bar of soap. He'd not seen a mirror in weeks and literally cringed when he saw the state of his hair.
Once he'd spent an outrageous amount of time in the bath, he'd dried himself off and picked some clothes out of his trunk. He'd washed the dishes—by hand as he still didn't have his wand—and paced around the living room until he got dizzy. Then he'd searched for something else to do. He had books in the bottom of his trunk thanks to Snape, but he wasn't certain he'd ever have this kind of a chance at freedom again.
Draco started his curiosity in Harry's bedroom. He searched all around the small area, finding only a small knapsack containing Harry's personal things. He had the Invisibility Cloak, of course, as well as a small journal, a photo album, a few faded and worn letters and a couple school books as well as an odd assortment of clothes. Draco had immediately snatched the journal, prying the little latch open. He wasn't all that surprised to see that the journal was charmed to appear blank to anyone without the password.
Hermione's room was a little more interesting. Her books were lined neatly on one of the small bookshelves against the wall. She'd brought along a picture of what appeared to be her parents. Draco stared at it for a long while before realizing it was a Muggle photo and wouldn't eventually move. She had a few more photos stuffed into slightly battered-looking frames dotting along her night stand. There was one of the Weasley family plus herself and a very pretty looking blonde girl Draco recognized from their fourth year. The picture that made him stop for a moment, though, was the one taken some time the year before of her, Ron and Harry.
Draco watched the moving photo silently for a while, trying to shake the core-deep sadness that saturated his body. He stared as the little Hermione climbed onto Ron's back while Harry threw his arm around the two of them, laughing as though he didn't have a care in the world. The three were in their school uniforms, robes open at the front to reveal their Gryffindor sweaters and ties. Harry's smile seemed so genuine, so carefree and easy that Draco felt a tear fall down his cheek in spite of himself.
Merlin, when had he turned into such a pussy? He replaced the photo quickly and marched out of the room, chiding himself for his bloody feelings the whole time.
Ron's room was, as expected, locked and warded against him. He rolled his eyes and looked for something distracting to wile the time away.
The fourth bedroom looked like it hadn't been occupied in many years by the thick layer of dust settled over everything. The room had a weighted-down feeling to it, like there had been heavy magic used some long-time ago that left an imprint of impending doom. Draco let his fingers wander over the dust-covered shelves, peering curiously at the little relics and things littering the surfaces.
The night stand had a drawer that wouldn't open and without a wand, he was left guessing what was in it. The desk in the corner had various stacks of papers in it ranging from boring legal documents about cauldron standards to what appeared to be home made potions. Draco scanned the recipes with mild interest, noting the complicated instructions and snide comments in the margins. His gaze turned finally to the bookshelf against the wall.
Draco skimmed the titles, realizing that nearly all of them were concentrated on the Dark Arts or Potion production. He opened one of the books and stared down at the name scrawled across the inside: Eileen Prince. His brow furrowed and he blinked. He knew that name from somewhere, but he couldn't recall how.
Shrugging, he pulled a couple volumes and headed down to the living room. While the books were quite interesting, his mind kept wandering to the battle that was no doubt raging out of control at this very moment. He had no idea what time it was, but it had been dark for quite a while now and, though he loathed admitting it, he was actually getting worried.
After another two hours of sitting in silence, Draco was sure he was going mad. He was curled up in a little ball in one of the armchairs, nearly tearing his hair out in worry and frustration. Two of his fingers were bleeding from where he'd bitten the nail down too far and he was rocking slightly. The Dark Mark on his forearm had been burning steadily and with increasing pain for about an hour and he wondered what exactly that meant.
Just as he was about to do something drastic, the wards on the front door shimmered and faded. Draco jumped and cowered into the back of the chair, not really knowing who to expect. The door slammed open, revealing a very tired and worried looking Hermione. She quickly held the door open for Ron who was half-carrying a nearly unconscious Harry. Lupin and Shacklebolt followed them in, replacing the wards and strengthening the holds.
Draco watched, horrified, as Ron limped Harry into the room and dropped him carefully onto the dilapidated old couch. Draco finally regained his senses and got to his feet, immediately at Harry's side.
"What the bloody hell happened?" Draco demanded.
Ron grunted as he shifted Harry's now fully unconscious form into a more comfortable position on the couch. "Snape hexed him," he blurted shortly.
Draco paled. "But… I thought…"
"So did we," Hermione said, her eyes dangerous and darting.
Lupin sighed. "He is still on our side. He just can't betray his double persona or we'll lose him," he explained for what sounded like the hundredth time. "And anyway, he said he'd be along shortly to fix whatever it is he's done."
Draco's eyes hardened. He watched Ron and Hermione dote upon Harry and felt strangely out of place. He wanted to bat their hands away and coddle Harry himself, but decided wisely against it. He simply backed up and stood silently watching while they waited.
After what seemed like ages, a knock finally sounded on the door. Lupin swept forward and lowered the wards, admitting a very disheveled and wan looking Severus Snape. He was still in his Death Eater cloak, the hood billowing out behind him as he stepped purposefully forward and pulled a shrunken bag from his pocket. Hermione and Ron reluctantly stepped aside, eyeing him warily. Hermione had her wand out and at the ready whereas Ron looked prepared to physically attack the man currently bent over Harry's lifeless body.
Snape Enlarged the Potions bag and started pulling out various colored vials of liquid. He set them down on the floor in a precise order.
"Granger," he finally said shortly, "I need you to tilt his head back and massage his throat muscles. He must swallow all of these quickly and without any break in between." Hermione nodded and did as she was told, crouching down behind Harry's head to aid in the process.
To Draco's amazement and horror, Snape actually swung a leg over Harry's hips and straddled him on the couch. Draco barely resisted the urge to lunge forward and knock the man aside, but he kept himself in check. Ron, however, tried to leap forward only to be held back by Lupin and Shacklebolt on either side of his writhing, skinny body.
Snape began pouring the potions down Harry's throat in rapid succession. Draco immediately understood the greasy man's position as Harry started thrashing about wildly, nearly knocking Snape off his lap although his entire body weight was planted thoroughly across his hipbones. Hermione was struggling to keep Harry's head still, but her hand was fisted firmly in his hair, forcing him to swallow all the potions.
Ten restless and tense minutes later, Harry finally settled down, his body going as still and as cold as death. Hermione looked fearfully up at Ron and audibly swallowed. Ron finally broke from the two Aurors and advanced on Snape.
"You killed him you bastard! You bloody well KILLED HIM!"
"I did no such thing, Mr. Weasley," Snape bit out, looking decidedly more calm and deadly in his Death Eater robes. As Snape climbed off of Harry's abdomen, Draco silently applauded Ron's outburst and watched Harry for any sign of life. It was barely noticeable, but he was breathing shallowly. The realization flooded through Draco like a warm tumble of relief.
Being able to stand it no longer, Draco moved forward and knelt next to the couch. He missed Snape's startled look when he registered the blonde's presence and the shared silent question between the two Aurors.
Hermione started stroking Harry's hair and cooing softly in his ear. Draco reached out and ran his knuckles down Harry's cheek, willing him to open those beautiful green eyes. Ron came to stand behind Hermione and absently started rubbing her shoulders, easing the tenseness out of her aching muscles.
Snape turned to the two Aurors with an expression of startled confusion. Lupin smiled weakly at him and shrugged.
"We need to talk," Snape said glancing over at the four teenagers, worry etched all over his face.
Lupin nodded and followed Snape into the little kitchen area. Kingsley Shacklebolt found a kettle and with a quick flick of his wand, steam shot out the end. He sat down, conjuring mugs and distributing them to the others when they sat as well.
"Would you kindly tell me what the hell is going on here?" Snape asked, indicating his head towards Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione.
Lupin sighed and sipped his tea. "I honestly have no idea, Severus. We got here this afternoon and he was out of his little prison."
Snape lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. He was well aware of what the Golden Trio had done to Draco, though he wasn't at all surprised about it.
"Severus," Remus said with a sigh, "what do you suggest we do?"
The spy looked his colleague in the eye for several minutes before he sipped his tea in contemplation. "What do you think, Remus?"
Lupin chewed his bottom lip for a moment and stared into his mug. "Honestly? I've not seen Harry looking as good as he did this afternoon in a very long time. I asked Hermione about it on the way to Tintagel and she said she didn't know what changed. She said he's been eating and sleeping better lately without the usual interruptions and sickness. He's not had to take his potions in days and he seems stronger and healthier than she's seen him since he left school in June. I must say I agree with her there."
Snape's eyes narrowed as he watched his godson lean over Harry and peer into his face. He nodded and sipped his tea again. "Truthfully, I've never seen Draco this concerned over anyone. He's always been like a son to me, Remus." He stared hard into Lupin's eyes, daring him to deny it. The werewolf just nodded and waited for him to continue.
"I'd say we leave them be for now," Snape said with a calculating look. "What do you say, Kingsley?"
"They don't seem to be hurting anyone, though Ronald looks a little less than pleased to see young Malfoy touching his Harry," Shacklebolt's deep baritone chuckled in amusement.
Remus and Severus turned to see Ron glaring daggers at Draco from his place behind Hermione. The redhead certainly didn't look happy, but he kept his peace for once. Snape almost smiled remembering the rivalry between the two boys at school.
Harry suddenly coughed and rolled over slightly, retching all over the floor and missing Draco by mere inches. Draco flinched and looked disgusted, but didn't move away. Hermione quickly cleaned the mess up with her wand and turned back to Harry.
Draco breathed in a sigh of relief. He watched as Harry's brilliant green eyes fluttered open before snapping shut again, his face contorted in agony. Harry groaned and lifted his arm weakly over his eyes. Snape cleared his throat rather obviously and beckoned Draco to him. Reluctantly, Draco left Harry on the couch and faced his godfather.
Snape stood as he approached and fished around in his cloak. "Draco, I need you to tend to Harry. It's best if he doesn't see me." Draco nodded in understanding and patiently listened to the complicated instructions that went with each potion. Harry shifted and groaned again, catching Draco's attention.
"I'd better be going," Snape said briskly before he dismantled the wards on the door and let himself out.
"We should go as well," said Lupin, gathering his cloak. "We have to help clean up the raid and attend to the rest of the wounded. If you need anything, let us know," he added before he and Kingsley also let themselves out.
"Well, that's just great," Ron grumbled. "Just when Harry wakes up, they leave."
"I believe that's the point, Ron," Hermione sighed.
Draco walked calmly back over to the trio and knelt back down beside Harry. To his utter surprise, neither Hermione nor Ron stopped him. He gently stroked Harry's cheek, his breath catching when those unfathomable green eyes opened again.
"Harry," he choked. Gods, he sounded like an idiot. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "You need to drink this. It'll make the headache go away." He offered the somewhat opaque red liquid to Harry, who tossed it back without a word. He grimaced at the taste, but gulped it down anyway. His shoulders immediately relaxed as the cool sensation spread throughout his head, pushing down the throbbing pain and easing his tingling muscles.
"Thanks," he said in a hoarse whisper.
"Harry? Do you think you can stand?" Hermione's voice sounded worried, but she kept calm for now.
"Yeah, I think so."
Harry stood up slowly, wavering slightly when his head spun. Suddenly, there was a warm, strong pair of arms encircling his waist and supporting his weight easily. He peeled his eyes open only to find himself staring into clouded grey irises filled with unspoken concern.
Harry's breath caught and he swallowed hard, his head suddenly dizzy for an entirely different reason.
"Harry?" Draco asked softly. "Are you alright?"
Harry took a deep breath and nodded, leaning into Draco's strength. The blonde scooted his shoulder under Harry's arm and helped him across the room and up the stairs. Draco glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Hermione and Ron gathered all the potions from the floor, earning a brief nod from the redhead.
Harry tripped slightly on the stairs, his feet dragging and his muscles protesting. Draco caught him quickly and practically carried him down the hall to his room. In any other situation, Harry would have been furious about the attention, but for some reason, he found great solace in Draco's assistance.
He allowed Draco to dress him in soft pajama bottoms and tuck him gently into bed.
"Draco?" he asked when he heard the blonde reach the door.
"Yes, Harry?"
"Are you leaving?" Gods, he sounded pathetic.
Draco smiled quietly before he said, "No. I'm just getting the potions from your friends. I'll be back in a minute."
At Harry's nod, Draco opened the door to find Ron leaning against the wall just outside. Ron leveled a calculating look at Draco and handed the various potions over.
"'Mione's gone to bed," he said shortly. Draco nodded and waited for the verbal lashing.
"Wake us if you need anything."
Draco blinked. Ron stood up and was halfway down the hall before Draco finally gained his senses back.
"Weasley," he shouted as loud as he dared.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
Ron nodded and turned back towards Hermione's room. Draco let himself smile slightly before he returned to Harry's room. He was sure Harry was fast asleep, so he undressed quietly before slipping into bed beside him.
"Draco?" came Harry's sleepy voice.
"Yes?"
"Thank you." Harry snuggled down further into the blankets before yawning widely and nodding off.
Draco watched him fall into oblivion, vaguely recalling the Dreamless Sleep potion still on the nightstand. He smiled softly to himself before inching closer and pulling Harry's back against his chest. The dark-haired boy sighed in his sleep and cuddled into the welcoming warmth, forgetting for a moment that he was destined to save the world.
