AN: So just a reminder, I am skipping ahead a bit. I will include events that happen in the books but they will be altered, shortened, and other stuff. Hope you like it.
Chapter 11:
Harry awoke to the soft snoring of Ron in the bed across the room. It was his third night staying at the burrow, by now he had gotten used to the somewhat unfamiliar bed. What he hadn't adjusted to was waking up knowing Dumbledore was dead. And that Draco had almost been the one to do it.
He also hadn't grown accustomed to not seeing the blonde daily, not having their encounters to look forward to. His days felt so bleak from the loss. He couldn't believe he had been so wrong about Draco's feelings for him.
Harry had been so certain that his feelings were returned. How wrong he had been.
However the Gryffindor could not figure out what Draco's motives had been. Why had he allowed him to hold his hand, why had he tried so often to push him away?
Harry found himself unable to believe that the Slytherin harbored no feelings for him whatsoever, that he was evil through and through. It could not be true.
A part of him said that the blonde had simply played with him, toying with his emotions to distract the savior of the wizard world, but he had seen past the mask. Harry had seen behind the walls Draco kept up, if only for a moment. He knew there was something within him that felt something. Something other than contempt.
Harry shook his head. He would drown in his own sadness if he continued to think of Draco in such a light. Despite what he had felt for him before, the boy was a deatheater. Harry had tried to help him, tried to love him, but he was denied.
The Gryffindor needed to now focus on the task set before him. Harry needed to give up what he loved, who he loved. He needed to put the world above his own happiness. Again.
...
Draco stared at the table, not truly seeing it.
The group of Deatheaters had been meeting at his family's dining table daily now, though Draco heard very little of what was said.
He couldn't think, couldn't feel. He would suffocate from the weight of his actions and his longing for Harry if he allowed himself to think.
Instead, he followed the patter the wood made of swirls and lines on the mahogany table, trying to resist comparing the color to a certain hair color he knew.
Finally the meeting was ended as the Dark Lord stood, everyone standing immediately with him. Draco hesitated a moment, his mind just returning to the present, but he quickly stood as well, careful to avoid the snake-like eyes of Voldemort.
The Dark Lord smiled sickeningly, in a serpentine fashion that made Draco's stomach heave.
"Just wait," Voldemort said, his voice coming out almost with a hiss, "the boy who lived will not live much longer," and with a black cloud of smoke, he disappeared, leaving everyone staring at the place he had just occupied a moment longer.
...
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, had finally left the burrow on their search for horcruxes, though Harry had tried to insist he go alone.
However, after a couple of long days with no progress, he was glad they had come with him. He didn't know what would happen if he wore the locket every hour of every day, and without Hermione's charms, he would have been found by the Deatheaters long before now.
When Ron left, Harry had initially been angry, angry that Ron was being selfish and that he had a family to return to when he didn't. Angry that Ron had broken his word.
But Harry's anger faded as the days wore on and he was in a way glad to know that perhaps, even if Harry didn't survive this, Ron hopefully would.
...
When Ron finally returned, his feelings of anger returned, partly for abandoning him and Hermione but also in part because he was endangering himself once more for Harry.
But the locket was finally destroyed and they now had the tool necessary to destroy the other horcruxes. They were finally making progress.
Now he had to find them.
...
Draco stared at his hollowed face and sallow skin in the mirror behind the sink. He ran his hands under the warm water, trying in vain to remind himself of the warmth Harry's touch had always brought him, trying to make himself feel something.
Tears slipped silently down Draco's face as he longed for the boy, the boy he would most likely never see again. Unless he was staring at his corpse.
More tears slid down his face and he gripped the edge of the sink harder, knowing he would fall to the ground if he let go.
He hadn't eaten in days, he knew not how long, and he knew he was weak. Too weak to kill Dumbledore. Too weak to stay away from Harry.
Using the scalding water to wash the remnants of tears from his face, Draco stood, toweling off his face and once again placing the somber yet apathetic expression to what was occurring around him.
Exiting the bathroom, Draco heard a sudden commotion on the floor upstairs.
Voices were yelling, he heard the shrill voice of his aunt screeching from where he was. Walking toward it, knowing that it would look suspicious if he avoided it, he walked up the elegant stairs to see Ron and Hermione, both held by deatheaters, wandless.
There was another boy next to them, held and wandless as well, and Draco knew in a heartbeat it was Harry.
He knew not if he recognized the messy hair, the emerald eyes, or simply the scent of Amortentia radiating off of him, but he always seemed to feel it when within the same room as Harry.
Electricity flowed within him, a strength he hadn't felt in months, ran through his racing blood as he found himself unable to look away from him.
Draco walked cautiously to his mother's side, keeping quiet as Bellatrix circled the group, her wand up and jabbing Hermione's cheek.
The whole group looked banged up; Hermione had a split lip with blood trickling down he chin while Ron had multiple cuts on his forehead and cheeks as well as many bruises covering his body.
Harry didn't look anything like himself. His face was swollen as if he had eaten something he was heavily allergic to, though Draco would know the boy anywhere.
Draco quickly cast his eyes forward, avoiding the eye contact he would surely encounter with Harry. He knew the guilt would overcome him if the green eyes probed his heart once more.
"It appears the little mudblood cast a stinging curse last," Bellatrix shrieked, tracing her long fingernails behind Hermione, drawing blood along her neck.
The girl resisted the urge to shiver, Draco could tell she was afraid, though she would never show it. Draco admired that.
He looked over to Harry's face, now aware of what had happened to it, and silently thanked Hermione for her quick thinking. He had never been grateful for her presence, even jealous of the friendship she had with Harry, but at this moment he could not have been more thrilled with her.
"Draco!" his aunt called, and he looked swiftly up to his mother who continued to stare straight ahead, unaffected by what was happening. "You went to school with Potter," she spat the name with disgust. "Come to your Auntie and see if this is the boy."
Draco stared at his aunt, not moving as his mind tried to process what she had said. Eventually, his feet dragged him forward.
...
Harry looked straight ahead of him, watching the boy he had thought had loved him approach. Draco refused to look into his eyes, staring at the floor as his feet slowly pulled him forward.
Harry saw something on Draco's face that he had often seen their before: guilt. But he knew not the reason it was there.
Harry didn't know if he wanted the silver eyes to look at him or not; he feared they would betray him once more and that they would cause all of the feelings he had been trying to keep down to surface once more.
The footsteps echoed in the quiet room as everyone held their breath as Draco approached.
Harry held his breath too, fearing that if Draco turned him in, for he surely recognized him, his heart would not be able to take another break. He would not be able to survive.
Harry looked up at the gaunt face walking towards him and his heart hurt, throbbing in his chest. Draco's cheeks had been hollowed, it was obvious he hadn't eaten for days.
The brunet eyed the dark bags beneath Draco's empty eyes, more evidence the boy was not healthy. Harry wanted to scold him, to hold him, tell him everything would be okay. That things still didn't have to be this way.
But Draco had made up his mind when he pushed Harry away, and the Gryffindor knew that.
Another part of him yearned for the other's presence, begging that he continue walking closer so he could smell the mint and rain. Had he not been restrained, Harry might have leapt out and held him close to his chest, whispering his love for him.
Luckily, he was unable to move, unable to feel the rejection once more if he tried to hold Draco again.
Finally Draco's footsteps stopped, only a foot away from Harry, and the Gryffindor resisted the urge to inhale deeply.
He stood silently, hoping, praying, Draco was who he had thought he was before. Even if the Slytherin could never return Harry's feelings, he hoped their entire friendship was not a lie.
"Well?" Bellatrix demanded, interrupting Harry's reverie, "Is it him?"
Draco's eyes finally met his and the warmth and electricity swept through Harry unwillingly. He tried to make it stop but the feelings he had tried to ignore all surfaced at the exact same moment.
Draco's gaze pleaded for something, Harry wasn't sure, almost as if asking for forgiveness? Though Harry knew it couldn't be that, he didn't feel the same about Harry. Their relationship had been false.
Draco breathed deeply through his nose, looking him up and down and Harry knew he recognized him; he could tell by the way he had looked into Harry's eyes, able to see all the way to his soul.
"I don't know," Draco finally replied though his eyes said something very different. The spell was broken however when he looked down once more and walked back to stand with his mother.
Harry didn't stop looking at the hard grey eyes but they never looked at him again, no matter how much Harry silently asked them to.
But his response had been enough for Harry. The words had told him something he hadn't believed in a long while.
Draco cared for him. There was still hope.
...
AN: So I hope this chapter was good, I know pretty much all of the plot was stuff that happened in the book but I feel like it had a different perspective and affected them each differently.
I realized I never said anything about it, but I think it's kind of funny. I was initially writing this just for myself, I wasn't going to publish it at all. On a whim, I posted the first chapter and it got so much support I decided to keep posting. Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and everything else, it really boosts my confidence and encourages me to write. You guys rock.
Let me know what you think, thanks for reading.
-Hope
