Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark violation is intended.

Added note/disclaimer: I also use quotes from other places. If you find a quote that wasn't cited, please notify me. Especially in this story as it has lot of the quotes, I can't remember who said them or where I found them…

"Your anger don't impress me
The world slapped in your face
It always rains like hell on the loser's day parade"

Chapter IX

Anger

Harry wanted to scream. Draco Malfoy had been the Death Eater who'd –.

He broke off the thought. He – why would Death Eater Draco Malfoy help him?

Harry walked to the room Draco was staying in – had been sleeping in and yanked the door open. He found everything the way it should be. It looked as if Draco Malfoy didn't even exist in that room.

The room was empty, and Harry saw a fine layer of dust on everything. He stared at it before he blinked.

The couch had been transfigured into a king-sized bed. There was a packet of Marlboro Lights on the table and ashes on the floor. The cigarettes themselves were crushed and in the trashcan.

But it didn't smell as though anyone had ever smoked in the room. He stared at it before he saw the glass doors that led outside to the balcony. Of course. Draco wouldn't smoke inside the room – he'd smoke outside. The ashes were near the garbage can, so it must be when he threw away the used up cigarettes.

He walked further, looking for a bag – or something that would discriminate Draco, but aside from the packet – there was absolutely nothing.

"Harry," Draco said behind him, startling him. "You don't have all the facts."

"No," said Harry. "But you were there – that last battle – you were there!"

"I know. I'm sorry," said Draco quietly.

"You were the one who got Percy away – it was you. You hurt us all and – and – I don't believe this – why did you come back?"

"Because you need me," said Draco quietly. "I'm your guardian angel, Harry. You need me."

"Shut up!" Harry snapped. "You're no angel, Malfoy – you're just the most cold-hearted bastard I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

"I'm sorry," said Draco again. "I'd make it up to you… but… I'm sorry. I can't say anything more than that. I'm trying, Harry – just like you're trying."

"Yeah right," said Harry. "What do you want? Money?"

"No," said Draco.

"Then what? Don't tell me – you want to seduce me and get another point for sleeping with the whole school? You were a slut when we were at school – of course you'd want sex."

"What were you then, when I got here? Don't deny you wouldn't have slept with me that night you were drunk. You've slept around – one-night stands. You had them before I got here to save your sorry life."

"I don't need any saving," Harry snarled. "You're the bastard. You're a murderer."

"It was war," said Draco quietly. "The law of war is kill or be killed."

"You know what," said Harry. "Just go. Find another place to stay."

"Harry… I'm not blameless," Draco began. "But I – look this is ridiculous. If you must remember, my mother died in that war. I don't know what you're blaming me for, but I'm sorry. I can't fix this. I'm trying, Harry. I thought I could help you, but if you're going to push me away, fine. I'll go."

Harry turned away from him and glared out the window. He heard Draco sigh.

Harry waited and thought.

But – but… the information… who had sent the information with Percy's dead body? Who had given up the location of the hideout where many of the Death Eaters were after the war? And the information –

Harry suddenly remembered the elegant script – so like the information from Narcissa Malfoy. They had suspected an attempt to forge Narcissa's handwriting, but… but – the writing was so natural with obvious differences. Such as the handwriting had slanted right rather left than as Narcissa Malfoy's hand – and it was more… more male than feminine.

Harry suddenly felt sick. He stood up and on the table, next to the Marlboro Lights packet, he saw the notepad. He stared at the handwriting. Draco had written out a grocery list – the way he had done since he'd arrived. It was elegant… so refined – almost feminine and it slanted to the right. Harry closed his eyes and recalled seeing Draco diligently writing his notes in History of Magick and Harry tried to remember when he'd seen Draco doing this. He remembered suddenly that the feathered quill had been in Draco's left hand as he wrote.

Narcissa Malfoy had been right handed, but Draco was left-handed.

Harry wanted to throw up.

He whirled around and called out, "Draco – wait!"

He felt the panicked sensation that it was too late – that Draco would be gone, never to come back – he'd made an accusation he shouldn't have.

He was ready to run to the door and chase Draco Malfoy down, when he crashed into Draco. Or he should have. For a dizzying moment, he thought that he had gone through – he turned and saw that Draco had jerked backwards to slam against the wall to avoid the collision just in time.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, seeing the startled look in Draco's gray eyes.

"It's okay," said Draco with a sigh. "I know you were upset."

xxx

Draco had a bruise on his back from the impact. He knew he did when he lay down and winced at the pain. Harry was angry – Draco understood that.

Draco hoped that this was a sign of progress. Anger was much better than suicidal depression. Although, Draco mused, homicidal anger wasn't much better than suicidal depression at all.

He rolled over in bed and barely stifled a yell.

"Nirvana," he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

She laughed softly. "I'm in your bed. After all these years… who would believe it?"

Draco scoffed. "You've been in my bed before."

"Oh, yes," said Ana with a wicked smile. "But that was only that one time."

She fingered her dark hair and Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's this about, Nirvana?"

"I was just thinking… I ought to dye my hair again. My roots will show soon."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Dye it purple or something."

"I remember when we dyed your hair pink. It was… interesting."

Draco grimaced. "For you, maybe."

Ana smiled again. "I'll dye it red."

"Aren't you worried?"

"About what?"

"What happens when we die forever."

"You're dead, Draco."

"Draco Malfoy's dead in the Wizarding world," Draco corrected. "I never existed at all in the Muggle world until I showed up. And now I'm back."

"Well, it's that interesting paradox isn't it? Are you alive? As far as the majority of the world is concerned you are dead. And as far as the Muggle world is concerned, with the exception of those who've met you – you don't exist. I don't exist either. The only two people who've met me are you and Harry. And you're the only one who knows who I was. Harry obviously doesn't remember me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he doesn't remember me."

"Well, you look different," said Draco. "He's not going to remember you."

"I was in –"

Draco hushed her suddenly. "You have to go – now."

"Okay. I'll see you later." Ana was suddenly gone and Draco sighed in relief.

"Draco?" asked Harry, poking his head into the room. "I'm really sorry."

"I know."

"Who were you talking to?"

"A friend," said Draco, making a big show of closing the cellphone now in his hand.

"You've got a cellphone?" asked Harry, looking at it.

Draco shrugged noncommittally and put it away. Draco looked at Harry, wondering if the rage was gone or not.

xxx

Harry was angry again the next day. Draco sensed it before he even spoke to him. Draco sighed and made Harry breakfast.

"I'm going to work," he announced to Harry.

Harry only growled at him.

"Did you just growl – never mind. I can see you're a little bit upset," said Draco.

Draco went to the youth center. The day was what Draco might have called slow. Yet he spent it worrying about Harry. Harry wasn't in the mental state to be alone. That anger might turn into suicidal anger.

Draco knew that it made no sense – but he knew that people could and did hurt themselves in anger. They would cut themselves or abuse themselves in order to control their enraged impulses – which were to hurt someone else.

He decided to go home two hours early and wondered why he thought of Harry's apartment as home.

Draco felt uneasy when he stepped through the door and saw that Harry was drunk. Draco bit his lip and wondered if he ought to call Blaise.

I can do this, Draco thought and said, "Harry?"

Harry turned and looked at him. "You're a bastard, Malfoy, you know that? You're just pathetic – even more than I am."

Draco decided to keep his mouth shut. It wouldn't do to get beaten up by Harry when he was drunk.

"You – I don't even know who you are," Harry continued. "You were a Death Eater. You fought right next to Voldemort. And yet… your handwriting matches the handwriting on the notes the spy in the Death Eater camp sent. Your mother was a spy. Were you a spy?"

Draco stared at Harry. "I – I would've been killed if I were a spy."

"Then why does your handwriting match the spy's?"

"I don't know," Draco said flatly. "How much of that information was accurate?"

"It got us to Voldemort and let me kill him. And it led up to Ginny's death."

"Oh?" Draco said carefully. Draco sighed. "Harry… you're angry. You're not really acting angry – but you are. I can sense it. Just tell me why you're –"

The glass figurine next to Draco shattered. Draco jumped back, and cursed himself for jumping.

"Why?" Harry whispered. "Do you want to know WHY!"

Draco sighed. That last word was a scream.

"Lucius Malfoy didn't kill Ginny. You did."

Draco stared at Harry. His face was whiter than usual.

"You killed my girlfriend," Harry said. "I've been beating myself up about it for so long and you… it wasn't me – I didn't hold the wand that the killed her. It was you. I remember – I didn't see it, until just now. I thought – I don't know – for some reason I thought it was your mother – but – but it was you."

Draco sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You can't apologize for killing someone."

"It was a battle," Draco said simply.

"So you admit you killed Ginny?"

"Yes," said Draco. "What would be the point of denying it?" Draco sighed. "I'm tired, Harry. Really – I'm so tired of running – of hiding, really."

"Really? Your guilty conscience getting to you?"

Draco bit his lip. He shook his head. "I… no, it's not my conscience. It's you. You called me here. I've told you again and again that I'm your guardian angel. I'm here to help you."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Just my luck to get a murderer for a guardian angel. God must really hate me, don't you think?"

Draco sighed. "Harry… I didn't kill her. Not exactly. I was the one to say the words – I was holding the wand, but I didn't kill her. My father…"

Harry looked at him. "Did he have you under the Imperius?"

Draco opened his mouth. Then closing it, he shook his head. "It was my own free will. It's… It's complicated."

"Tell me."

"She asked me to kill her," Draco said very softly.

"What?"

"I said Ginevra Weasley asked me to kill her."

"Why?"

"I don't know," said Draco. "She just told me to kill her. She said it'd make you – angry enough – that it'd – it'd help you. She promised me that you'd – that you'd be okay. She said that she didn't matter."

"And you believed her?"

"No," said Draco. "But I still killed her."

"There's more to this story, Draco. I know it."

Draco sighed. "I don't know the rest of it. The story of why she did it died with her. I killed her, yes. But… she asked me to."

"Well that's perfect," said Harry with a laugh. "My girlfriend arranged her own murder and – and I can't even – would you kill me if I asked you to?"

Draco stared at him. "I'd let you die if I thought it would be best."

"But would you kill me, hold a wand and say 'Avada Kedavra' if I asked you to?"

"No," said Draco.

"Why?"

"Because I can't cast the curse."

"You killed Ginny. I think you can."

"I can't."

"Really?" said Harry, looking at him suspiciously. "How do you know."

"Because I held a wand in my hand after the war was over. I pointed it at myself and said the words and nothing happened."

"What!" Harry gaped at him. "You're not suicidal."

"No," said Draco. "I'm not. It was a one time thing. I'm too vain to kill myself." Draco met his gaze. "But you want to kill yourself don't you?"

"I need a way out," Harry said. "I need a way out, Draco. I need – I can't! I tried, I really did – but I can't – I can't do this. I want it all to just end. I'll kill myself if you don't kill me. I'll do it – I will."

Draco watched and by the time someone asked to explain what happened then, he wouldn't have known what to respond.

Harry pulled out a gun. It was a small handgun and Draco watched in disbelief as he lifted it upward toward his temple.

"Oh no," said Draco and he raised his hand just as Harry fired.

– Goo Goo Dolls

A/N: Let me know what you think in a review.

Although, my thoughts on this story are still the same...

Oh, and as for an interesting piece of information, you can't tell what hand a person writes with through their writing. That's a common misconception, but I figured Harry wouldn't know. Left-handed slant means something like having had a bad childhood or something, I can't remember. It's been a long time. Another bit of information – that I didn't have until after I finished this story – Draco Malfoy's really right-handed in canon, but I'll just make-believe he's ambidextrous. (See HBP – the chapter Harry nearly kills him.)

Citation/Disclaimer(s)/Reference:

1. The quote for the chapter. Goo Goo Dolls' Broadway.

Review Response:

Kanui d'Astor: I'm very glad you asked that. That's the main point of this story. I said it was more of a psychological story than the emotional story I wanted when I began it (which is why I don't really like it – well, that is, it bothers me somewhat – you'll see why when it ends… if you get to the end, anyway). Anyway – it's a psychological story because the question you have to keep in mind is – Is Draco dead or not? It was written to confuse you on the subject. You won't get a real answer to that question until the end...

Anyway, to everyone else who read, but did not review, thanks for reading. I hope I haven't chased you off with this really bizarre story. Review if you will, drop me a line. I'll try to update again next week (if not, then wait for the fourteen day thing).

Thanks!

Keir