Chapter 8 Hidden Desires
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, nothing is mine. Everything belongs to JKR
Warnings: Violence, adult language, slash-y elements (HD, naturally)
A/N: Chapter eight, enjoy! I'm sorry for the shortness of it – the thing is, I'm moving abroad and living in hostels for a few nights while looking for an apartment so I have so little time to write!
Oh, the tiny bit about runes I basically snatched from runemaker. com if you're interested. Of course, I tweaked the facts a little to fit the the wizarding world.
And of course, thanks go to my beta!
Harry was glad that Ron had agreed to stay in the Gryffindor common room after dinner (he had said he would work on his Potions essay, but knowing him, it would be either playing chess or Exploding Snap with Seamus) as he trekked down towards the dungeons with Hermione in tow. It was Draco's first free night, after all, and Harry was sure he wouldn't appreciate it if he were to spend it with a Weasley.
Besides, according to Ron, the redhead had had 'enough of those grandiloquent Slytherins for some time'. They all had been quite astonished at the sudden vastness of Ron's vocabulary.
Draco hadn't been in the Great Hall for dinner, not that Harry had been himself either - he had taken his meal to his dormitory and enjoyed it there with Ron and Hermione, away from prying eyes. He would get enough gawking when he would join the rest of the students for breakfast next morning, no doubt about that. Already he had been ambushed by a group of relentless Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, who had pushed the summary of his captivity out of him before Ron's threats to castrate any overeager student approaching him made them scatter like frightened mice.
It had been hours since Harry had seen his fellow ferret and he couldn't deny it any longer. He missed Draco, god damn it. He really missed the pointy-faced, annoyingly pompous and lordly git.
The unexpected meeting with Zabini and Parkinson (the Gryffindor common room was still slightly in uproar - there had never been formal declarations of loyalty between the students before, or at least that's what Hermione had said) had only magnified his unexplainable longing to see the blonde bugger. It almost felt like there was a tiny part of his soul missing. And it was just ridiculous, really.
"Oh look Harry, that must be it," Hermione suddenly whispered, yanking Harry's sleeve to stop him. "Professor Snape said the door to his rooms was between two paintings, between snakes and a dragon."
Harry eyed the paintings, their subjects hissing at him threateningly. The snakes in particular were quite foul-mouthed. "How very appropriate."
Hermione, adjusting the strap of her heavy, magically enlarged bag, wasted no time in raising her hand and knocking.
Why had his mother sent him a letter? Had something happened?
Draco's blood ran cold as he looked at the thick envelope, the familiar Malfoy crest of a snake curled around a rose emblazoned on top of it. Gingerly, he sliced open the envelope and shook out the letter inside, holding it like it was a vial of Basilisk potion ready to shatter any second.
Dragon, my treasure, the letter said in an elegant script,
I hope you are well but most importantly, safe. Who am I to inquire after your health and safety, you may ask, after all these long years of indifference and stolidity, and I am not going to defend myself. I am aware of my terrible lack of maternal skills.
However, you are my son, my only son, and despite that I have never been the kind of mother you would have needed, I care for you. For weeks now, I have spent my days worrying in torment, never knowing whether you were alive or dead. Then a word came that you were safe within the solid walls of Hogwarts, under the protection of Headmaster Dumbledore and befriending with Harry Potter.
At first, I was shocked. A wizard of Malfoy and Black bloodlines, defying the Dark Lord. That has never happened before.
Then, I came to realize that you, my dragon, had grown up, stepped away from your father's forbidding shadow and allowed yourself to become the man you wish to be. You had chosen not to follow your father's footsteps, and for that, I am eternally grateful. I cannot bear to see you suffer like Lucius has suffered.
Lucius has done some bad choices during his life and he is still paying for them. Not a day passes me by without thinking how our lives could have been should he, as well, had stepped away from his father's shadow. He is not a bad man by nature, Draco, never think of that. All that he has done has been just to keep you safe, to keep me safe.
You see, Draco, I am proud of you. Proud of you for being strong where Lucius was weak.
Stay with Harry Potter and his people, they will keep you strong and safe, they will not abandon you like the Dark Lord has done.
Be free, my dragon.
Your mother
Draco stared at the graceful handwriting displayed on the parchment, gently brushing his fingers against the letter as if he could reach to his mother via the letter. Narcissa had never exhibited such affectionate emotions before, being a very reserved and elusive mother for as long as Draco could remember. She had replaced motherly love with priceless gifts and other material items.
Thus, for a second, he thought someone had posed as his mother and sent him the letter - but he recognized Narcissa's handwriting; the parchment even had the faint scent of her favourite perfume, and why would someone even impersonate her? If the letter had demanded information, if it had suggested a meeting or something else just as shady, he would have been more suspicious. But as for now… Draco was certain the letter really was from his mother.
It was a simple letter, promising nothing, but for Draco, it meant worlds. He finally had proof that his parents were not just some cerebral Death Eater scum who had produced an heir only to keep the bloodline alive. He had normal parents, whose past mistakes, though, had cost them the normality they could have reached later in life.
Draco gazed at the letter, a small, serene smile appearing onto his lips.
His moment of his brief heartsease, however, was suddenly disturbed by a knock on the door. My my, don't we get loads of visitors today. Carefully placing the letter on top of his books in the shelf, he waltzed to the door and looked up expectantly.
Harry James Potter and Hermione Jane Granger were slowly carved onto the stone, and Draco felt a small, excited jump inside his chest at the first name. He scowled a second later, noticing that in addition, there was a goofy grin on his face. Quickly arranging his features to cool smoothness, must not seem too delighted, he calmly opened the door.
"Potter," he drawled with a half-smile, then politely nodded towards the girl standing next to him. "Granger. What a nice surprise. Do come in."
A split second later, Draco realized his mistake. Harry, smiling brightly, moved to step inside only to be violently jostled back with a sharp zap, like someone invisible had pushed him forcefully away from the doorway. Granger let out a startled gasp, tumbling down onto her knees from surprise as Harry whirled past her, narrowly missing from colliding with her before hitting the wall.
"Potter!" Draco cried out, rushing to the Gryffindor, slumped against the wall and groaning. How could he forget the stupid, effing wards? "Shit! Are you okay, Potter?"
Harry squinted at him with slightly unfocused eyes through a grimace of pain, gingerly rubbing at the back of his head. "Jeez, Malfoy, what the hell was that?"
Kneeling beside him, Draco busily checked that there were no life-threatening injuries and uttered a sigh of relief. "Sorry, there are some wards protecting my room and I… forgot."
"Some wards," Harry breathed, somewhat dazedly. "Hermione, you okay?"
Granger was there in a flash, a concerned look in her eyes as she gripped Harry's hand tightly. "I'm fine, just startled. Are you okay? You hit the wall pretty badly, Harry! Do you need to see Madame Pomfrey?"
"No, no," Harry wheezed, his eyes widening at the prospect of facing the she-dragon again. Draco hid a snicker behind his hand. "Just a bump in the head, that's all. I'm fine. If I could just get up so Malfoy could, uh, I dunno, make the wards allow us to enter the rooms?"
Draco rose quickly. "Certainly. Just a moment."
Leaving Granger to haul Harry up back to his feet, Draco marched into his rooms again and determinedly rapped his wand against the door. Stupid wards. "Grant access to Harry Potter and," Draco hesitated only a half a second, "Hermione Granger."
The wards shimmered and flexed, giving a low hum of acceptance before falling silent and invisible again. Harry and Granger were hovering in the corridor in front of the threshold; Harry half-heartedly batted away Granger's hands that were trying to check the back of his head.
Draco smirked at them. "You can come in now."
"You sure?" Harry asked, eyeing the doorway rather cautiously. "I wouldn't want to get blasted again."
"Yes, I'm sure, Potter." Draco rolled his eyes. It wasn't my fault those bloody wards were so abusing, for Merlin's sake. I didn't ask for them or anything. "Come in before Snape decides to stop by and sees two fidgeting Gryffindors in his dungeons."
Harry muttered something like "he gave us permission to be here, you git" under his breath but stepped inside quickly nevertheless, dragging Granger behind him. Draco flicked his wand and the door swung shut.
"This looks beautiful, Malfoy," Granger lightly commented, looking around with great curiosity.
Draco gave a one-shouldered, elegant shrug. "I deserve only the best," he flippantly said, then gestured towards the sitting arrangement. "Have a seat."
Granger perched herself on one of the lounge chairs, seeming a little at unease, while Harry languidly draped himself over the couch, still rubbing his head.
"So." Draco sat down neatly on the other armchair, allowing Harry to take up the whole sofa. "What brings you here?"
Harry shot a bright grin at him and Draco felt himself relaxing a bit. "Just wanted to see how you're holding up in your new rooms. Besides," Harry sneaked a quick look at Granger, "Hermione here wanted to see where we both stand with our studies."
Draco quirked an eyebrow, a tad surprised. So that's why she has that bag with her. And here I though she was only for mental support. "Is that so? And where is the weas-" Draco broke off, clearing his throat, "Weasley?"
I'm surprised the freckled sidekick didn't tag along to make sure I won't corrupt his Golden Boy any longer.
"Yes, well," Granger sniffed, hoisting up her bag. "I want to make sure you both are ready to successfully continue your studies after your leave of two weeks is up. Besides, I am the Head Girl, so it's my duty to prepare you." There was a rather sadistic gleam in her eyes for a moment. Draco blanched. "And as for Ron… He has had his share of Slytherins today already."
Draco frowned, bemused. What the hell does she mean with that?
"Zabini and Parkinson visited me today," Harry supplied helpfully. Draco cast a sharp look at him. They really did go to see him? "Before dinner. They, uh -"
"Performed a formal wizarding declaration of loyalty to Harry," Granger butted in, stating it in a businesslike manner. "Did you tell them to do it, Malfoy?"
Draco sputtered, feeling rather taken aback. The formal declaration of loyalty? "Hell no, Granger. I didn't tell them to do anything, for Merlin's sake. Bloody hell... "
Harry waved his hand nonchalantly. "Oh it's not a big deal, really -"
"Not a big deal?" Draco all but cried out, appalled. He whirled to face Granger. "Didn't you tell him that it is a big deal, a very big deal?"
"It's just words, jeez," Harry muttered crossly from the couch and received stern looks from both Draco and Granger.
"No, Harry, it's not just words," Granger said patiently, shaking her head. "Didn't you listen at all what I told you?"
"The formal declaration of loyalty," Draco began, "has to be sincere. It's a magical binding of sorts. An oath, based on honesty. If Blaise and Pansy had been insincere, if their oaths had been based on lies, they would have been drained of their magic."
Harry blanched. "Drained of their magic?"
"Yes, Potter. That is the reason why so few people choose to go through the formal declaration. The magic sees through their intentions, it is plain impossible to lie."
"But... they can still change their minds, right?"
Draco shook his head, uttering a sigh. That's what you get when you live with Muggles. "They can't Potter. If they, say, go to seek out the Dark Lord and claim they want to be His Death Eaters and really mean it, they will be drained of their magic, as well."
Harry was looking a little peaky. "That's some... some serious stuff."
Granger reached over and gave his knee a soothing pat. "They knew what they were doing, Harry. If anything, you should be proud of them."
Raising his eyebrows, Draco had to give Granger some credit. She seemed to realize how big of a sacrifice both Blaise and Pansy had done. They are like me now, he suddenly thought, blinking. Outcasts, soon to be shunned by their families, condemned and not fully trusted by either side. And they did it all because of... me. Draco felt the urge to drop his head into his hands. Some friend I am. I wonder how many lives I can ruin with the decisions I have made.
But then again, if he had chosen otherwise... How many would have suffered by my hands then?
"Malfoy?" Harry's worried voice broke through Draco's mental pondering. "You okay?"
"What?" Draco looked up, encountering concerned, green eyes staring at him. "Oh, yes, I'm fine. Just fine."
Harry nodded, still looking a tad hesitant, and an uncomfortable silence descended upon them for a moment, only to be broken by a loud thump as Granger suddenly slammed her bag on the small table. Both boys startled. "So. Studies."
She began to pull out a book after book, piling them into neat stacks. Draco stared at them with rapidly mounting apprehension. "I was thinking that for today, I would simply check how much your current knowledge covers for in various subjects. Malfoy, I take it you have Ancient Runes in your seventh year timetable, am I correct?"
Draco could only nod mutely.
"Well then." Granger seemed to perk up. "At the moment, we're going over some practical bindrunes that German wizards used as talismans with particular objective such as improved magical stamina, business or financial success and so on. Then, of course, there are the amulets wizards especially in Columbia wore that were composed from personal initials to form a kind of runic monogram. They, naturally, were to be used to strengthen the wizard's personality and enhance the positive qualities of their magic - "
And on she went, eventually grilling them both relentlessly about every subject they took until she was satisfied with the results. According to her, Harry needed some tutoring in Transfiguration and Potions (what a surprise) while Draco required some help with Defence and Arithmancy before they could resume their lessons. And Granger, with the maniacal gleam still in her eyes, declared she would be their tutor during the following fortnight and would accept no 'Thank you but no's.
Draco had to, very grudgingly though, admit that Granger would be the best candidate to coach them. She was like Pomfrey and Snape combined; quite skilled, smart and with an attitude that demanded perfection or else. Draco's respect for Granger rose by another inch. He idly wondered how she and Pansy would get along if given a chance; they were frightfully similar, as well. Fiercely loyal, ready to do practically anything if really needed and not to be deterred that easily.
"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Malfoy, for your lesson in Arithmancy?" Granger stood up briskly, hauling her bag onto her shoulder again. "If that's fine with you?"
"Yes, yes, that's fine, Granger." Draco also wondered what she would have done if he had declined. She'd probably give me wedgies. Magical ones. "Is after lunch acceptable?"
Granger nodded. "Definitely." She glanced at Harry who was still lounging on the couch, fidgeting. "Harry, you coming?"
"I think I'll stay for a few minutes," Harry muttered evasively, and this time it was Draco who perked up – quite against his will. "You go ahead, Hermione."
Granger gave her friend a long look, obviously communicating with Harry non-verbally. Harry, Draco noticed, answered the look steadily, unwavering. After a short moment, Granger sighed, apparently giving up whatever silent argument they had been having. "Okay. Just remember curfew is in half an hour, Harry."
Harry smiled slightly. "I will. See you in a moment. Don't let Ron gallop here to rescue me from Malfoy's evil clutches, alright?"
Hiding a chuckle behind her hand, Granger nodded her affirmative while Draco snorted mentally. Like Harry is some damsel in distress. Oh honestly.
"Till tomorrow, Malfoy." Granger's voice was formal and dignified, but still a little hesitant – as if she didn't quite know how to act around Draco.
"Till tomorrow," Draco confirmed, just as courtly. Granger sent a tentative smile at him, a much bigger and warmer one for Harry and exited the rooms.
Short silence reigned again but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. Draco watched his guest serenely, unmoving, and Harry simply gazed back, his green eyes shimmering with something Draco couldn't quite identify.
"So." Harry finally said, fingering with the sleeve of his shirt. "How've you been?"
Draco motioned with his shoulders elegantly. "Pretty fine, I suppose. My wardrobe needs some serious counselling, nonetheless. How about you?"
Harry echoed Draco's previous shrug. "Not complaining. I'm glad to be out of the infirmary." His lips twisted into a smile then, and he cocked his head in question. "Your wardrobe? I thought all your clothes were..." He gestured offhandedly with his hand, trailing off with an awkward look in his eyes.
"They are," Draco said, keeping his tone light. "But Snape had bought some clothes for me in advance."
Harry wrinkled his nose. "Snape? Did he give you a Batman-suit?"
A... what? Draco frowned. "Did he give me a what? What is a bat man? Some kind of hybrid?"
"It's a Muggle-thing." Harry sounded sheepish, giving a crooked grin. "There's this comic book superhero called Batman who really, uh, likes bats, and since Snape really resembles a bat with his billowing robes and all..."
"Right," Draco said slowly, wondering what the hell was a superhero anyway. Sometimes, Harry doesn't make sense at all. Must be his despicable Muggle upbringing. What a shame. "Well, sorry to disappoint you but there are no bat man-suits. Just some old-fashioned stuff that practically screams Snape."
Harry snickered. "I can imagine. So, you intend to hit the shops as soon as you can?"
Letting out a small sigh of happiness at that thought, Draco briefly pleasured himself by imagining all the clothes he could soon purchase. "Most definitely." He gave Harry a quick once-over. "And speaking of acquiring new wardrobes... You could do with one, as well."
"Me?" Harry sputtered, looking down at himself in confusion. "What's wrong with these?"
"A gaudy, red jumper with faded jeans ten sizes too large," Draco drawled and quirked a sarcastic eyebrow. "Yes. I can see you need no help at all."
A faint flush appeared onto Harry's cheeks. "This is my Weasley-jumper. Mrs. Weasley made it for me."
Draco eyed that particular piece of clothing with great distaste. "You don't say? It's very dashing indeed."
Suddenly, Harry's lips curved into a very sly smirk. Draco felt apprehensive at once. "Actually, Malfoy, Mrs. Weasley made one for you, too."
Draco felt his eyes go wide. "She did? Good gracious, is the woman insane? I'm a Malfoy, we're the worst enemies her lot can possibly have, for Merlin's sake."
Harry shrugged, his smile turning faint. "She may be a Weasley but she is a mother, too. She's in the Order, so she must have heard about your – what's wrong, Malfoy?"
At the word 'mother', Draco had gone rigid, his eyes flickering towards the shelf Narcissa's letter was resting in. Following Draco's gaze, Harry found the letter, as well. "What's that?"
"It's a letter," Draco spoke softly. "From my mother."
Harry's head whipped back and he stared at Draco with widened eyes. "From Narcissa?"
"Yes, Potter, from Narcissa," Draco snapped, feeling a stab of irritation. "How many mothers you think I have?"
"Sorry," Harry muttered, eyes downcast as he licked his lips nervously. "I just – I didn't -"
Draco sighed. "Yeah, me either. Believe me."
"Uh... what did she have to say?" Harry's tone was hesitant, laced with uncertainty. "I don't mean to pry, I'm sorry -"
"No, it's okay. Don't worry."
Slowly, Draco stood up, shoulders hunched. Perhaps the Slytherin secretiveness is not the way to deal with everything. Just as tardily, he walked over the shelf and picked up the letter. It felt surprisingly light in his hands.
Before he could regret it, he dropped the letter into Harry's lap. "Here, you can read it."
Avoiding Harry's surprised eyes, he retreated back to the armchair and stayed put, gazing at the fire while Harry proceeded to read the letter in silence. It didn't take very long.
"Wow," the Gryffindor murmured quietly, folding the letter and placing it back into the envelope. "That was, uh, pretty... unexpected. I always thought that Narcissa was... you know, not that... motherly to write this kind of letters. Are you sure this is really from her?"
"It is, Potter." Draco noted that his voice was not defensive like he had fully expected it to be, but jaded, instead. "I know her handwriting. Besides, that parchment is from the Malfoy Manor, only a true Malfoy could write on it."
"I thought so. Have you replied to her already?"
Draco shrugged evasively. Should he even reply? The letter didn't actually demand response. "No. Not yet."
Harry frowned. "Are you going to?"
"What's there to reply?"
Harry seemed honestly perplexed. "What do you mean? You could always write back and say you're safe and well and -"
"Oh, Potter." Draco shook his head a little, faintly amused by the Gryffindor's naïve and even somewhat Pollyannaish way of thinking. Did he really think he could reply with a letter full of affectionate adornments and sickeningly warm wish-you-wells? How mundane and so... muggle-ish. That was just not the way Malfoys corresponded with each other. "You really are something, aren't you?"
Harry, obviously even more flummoxed by Draco's behaviour, just shrugged, shuffling closer to the Slytherin with slow, uncertain movements. Draco glanced at him, peeking beneath his lashes. He's so close again. Somehow, all thoughts concerning his mother fled as Draco caught sight of Harry's eyes, so impossibly bright and filled with life. All he could do was lean even closer, staring into those endless pieces of jewellery like they were the only thing keeping him from drowning.
Harry's soft scent, a mix of chocolate and something spicy, invaded Draco's nose, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. Unable to resist himself – is this a dream? - , he lifted a hand and slowly caressed Harry's cheek, his fingers barely touching the skin that radiated warmth despite the paleness. Harry's eyes fluttered at the touch but he didn't pull away, and Draco left his hand there, resting against the cheek. He had no idea what the hell he was doing but cupping Harry's face with one hand felt... good, for some reason. Am I going crazy?
As Harry angled himself closer, a pretty flush covering his cheeks now, Draco was forced to draw in a sharp intake of air at the pleasant heat that suddenly pooled around his body.
I most definitely am.
Then Harry spoke, his breath tickling against Draco's nose. "What are we doing?"
"I don't know, Potter," Draco whispered back. "I really don't know."
And then he smashed his lips against Harry's.
It was just a gentle, hesitant peck but Harry's eyes grew big and after a few short seconds, he quickly drew back. Draco, swallowing a whimper at the loss of contact, blinked as realisation kicked in like a bucket of ice-cold water.
Dear Merlin. I just kissed Harry bloody Potter.
"Potter, I -" he started, but was distracted as Harry stood up, looking like he didn't know whether to bolt out of the room or just swoon on the floor. I didn't scare him that much, did I?
"Look, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice a little higher than normally. "That was – that was very... nice and all but... I don't... "
"Date Malfoys?" Draco drawled, raising one, perfectly pale eyebrow. "Or kiss boys?"
"It's not that you're a boy, for Merlin's sake," Harry scoffed, still visibly flustered. Oh yes, Draco had heard that Harry had had a brief fling with that horribly cheery Irish fellow. If I had gone out with that giggling idiot, I would have killed myself in a week. "It's just... I don't ... date," he finished rather lamely, grimacing.
"Who said we must date?" Draco asked, now waggling his eyebrows. His inner Slytherin was screaming, horrified that he was flirting with Potter, but he stubbornly subdued the voice. My my, how come I didn't see before how eligible Harry is? Perhaps, he frowned, because I was too busy hating him with passion.
Harry huffed and ran a hand through his wild hair, looking more and more annoyed than embarrassed. "Stop with those eyebrows, Malfoy. You're making me queasy. Couldn't we just..." he spread his arms, incoherently gesturing with them, "be friends?"
Draco sighed. The ultimate Gryffindor, of course. Now that his curiosity for something more had suddenly piqued, being friends felt rather unsatisfying. But that's the only way I can be close to him and pursue him, yes? Resisting the urge to rub his hands together with glee, he cackled inwardly. "Of course, Potter."
"Uh, great." Harry glanced at the door, fidgeting. "I really should be going. Hermione will send Ron down here if I'm not in the common room before curfew."
"I think I can manage by myself for the night," Draco drawled, smirking. He, too, stood up and sauntered to the door, opening it. "Don't let Snape catch you so close to curfew."
Harry slipped past him, a hint of smile on his lips. Such kissable lips, how on Earth didn't I realize that before? "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Till tomorrow, then." Draco allowed himself to answer the smile. "Goodnight, Potter."
"Night, Malfoy."
As he closed the door, Draco nearly collapsed, his legs feeling like they were made of jelly all the sudden. He wobbled back to the armchair and ungracefully fell into it, his head spinning.
Merlin.
I'm really thinking about dating and kissing Harry Potter.
If Snape doesn't kill me, Weasley will surely murder me in my sleep. Not to mention all the Gryffindors for corrupting their innocent poster boy.
I am so doomed.
Though kissing Harry is most definitely worth it.
Draco scowled.
I wonder how cold can I turn the water in the shower.
