Summary: A spell is cast on Harry which creates lots of angst. Draco comes along and creates lots of fluff. Hurrah. Not HBP/DH compliant. Slaaaaaash!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It makes me sad :(
A/N: My cat is lying across the keypad with her head in my hand, which is understandably making it very difficult to write xD
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Harry knew it was a bad idea. He had said so at the beginning, and he had been right. It had been all What choice have we got and There's no other way out from Ron, Hermione and Draco, but Harry knew he would not be able to last an entire day.
So far it had been one hour since Draco walked out of the room, and he wasn't in any pain yet, but the faint stirrings of discomfort were building in his chest and head. It would be alright if Draco was in the room with him and they weren't touching, but the fact that he was so very far away… somehow it made things a lot more difficult to bear. It made him feel even more exhausted, if that were possible. He couldn't remember ever being so tired, where his brain throbbed with a drowsy nausea and his body ached all over. It hurt his bones to move, it hurt his head to think. He wasn't sure how long it had been now, how many days and nights he had been awake. All the hours bled into one other in a relentless haze of fatigue. Rain always pounded against the windowpane and shadows danced deceptively in the corner of his eyes. Sometimes he would swear he could see something just beyond his line of vision - and he would turn round only to face blank wall or empty stone floor. He felt like he was steadily losing his mind, and he knew he only had to go to sleep for a couple of hours to make everything so much better - but he couldn't. He was so afraid of falling asleep. When his eyelids began to droop he would hear the distant hiss of a blade slicing through cold white air or the indiscernible whisper of something clad in black robes, waiting for him; and he would snap suddenly awake with a jerk that made his body hurt.
Ron and Hermione sat on hard plastic chairs on one side of his bed, and he sat with his legs crossed still, staring blankly at the floor.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked, for the eighth time. She had circles under her eyes and her hair was slipping from its grips. Ron yawned behind his hand and Harry wanted to cry out with frustration. He lay down on the bed with his back to them, curled into a ball and closed his eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried his hardest to pretend it was Draco holding him.
"Careful not to fall asleep," said Hermione softly, and Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming out at her.
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The Malfoy gardens began with stretches of patio and decks, ideal for entertaining guests. Draco could remember being very young, perhaps three, and watching his mother flit from group to group of ministry members and rich wizards, looking beautifully elegant in a long, shimmering gown, a narrow champagne flute sparkling in her hand. Small, delicate lights would twinkle over their heads as dusk descended, and bands would play soft, wonderful music from the raised platform in the corner.
Draco's heartbeat began to slow as he wandered through the unbroken darkness, the scene of so many parties now cold and dark. The Malfoy name was in disgrace, his mother and father on the run. Things couldn't be more different now and he smiled bitterly as he looked around and remember how wonderful it had all seemed, and how none of them could have guessed what lay in store.
He began to feel calmer. He glanced over his shoulder every minute or so when the fear of being ambushed would suddenly overwhelm him - but whoever it was inside his house had obviously not noticed him and with nothing around but sharp silence he would hear them coming immediately should they choose for whatever reason to take a stroll in the gardens.
More than afraid he felt angry. Someone had broken into his house. He cast a backwards glance into the darkness, his footsteps muffled as he stepped off the stone patio and onto what was once neatly trimmed grass. Now it grew long and untamed, riddled with daisies and weeds. His mother would have a fit if she could see.
He wondered who it might be. Another Death Eater on the run, perhaps - waiting to see if the Malfoys would turn up and they might band together. But that did not explain the piercing yellow light, the bright spinning trace of what seemed to Draco like a spell. He frowned and wished he had the courage to go back and investigate. Potter would attempt to find out who was in that room, he knew. Potter was brave and reckless to the point of stupidity. But while Draco grudgingly admired Harry's daring he did not envy that his courage seemed prone to landing him unbelievably bad situations. Draco did not want to get cursed or murdered. Not only would it be terrible for him, it would certainly spell disaster for Harry as well.
Glancing over his shoulder, Draco let his thoughts turn to Harry as he made his way across the grass. The Malfoy gardens were large areas, each specifically designed around a theme, all of them connected by a curve in the grass or a cobbled path, a stone archway covered in hanging flowers or a door hidden in a wall draped with wild ivy. The land itself stretched for miles but the gardens were magically altered so that an endless expanse could fit inside of them. If it was desired the grounds outside the mansion could literally go on forever.
Draco knew his father kept rare and dangerous plants in a row of greenhouses similar to the ones at Hogwarts. Seeing as the gardens were so expansive his parents had set up portkeys connecting different parts, and Draco headed towards one only to find it dead and defunct.
A small stream wound its way through the left side of the grounds, curving in and back out again several times. A particular rock set into a small, picturesque waterfall ought to transport him to the farthest right corner of the grounds, where the greenhouses were located. He pressed his finger to it a number of times before admitting defeat with a sigh. He checked his watch and glanced behind his shoulder. He had been gone for nearly two hours; surely not long enough for Harry to start feeling the effects of his absence. There was nothing for it except to make his way to his destination the old fashioned way; on foot.
As he walked he encountered areas he remembered well, and other parts he had not seen that he supposed must have been created while he was at school. He wandered through his particular favourite spots with an indulgent slowness, feeling slightly guilty but sure that Harry could not be missing him yet. He also felt certain that whoever it was inside the manor was still in there and had no idea of his presence. The familiar surroundings felt soothing and it was hard to stay afraid. Occasionally he would pass a wrought iron lamp charmed to glow comforting orange warmth into the surrounding night.
There were formal gardens with neatly designed rows of exotic flowers that looked no less beautiful in the dark, a large pond filled with lilypads and brightly coloured fish, and a tradition English garden that Draco remembered playing in with his mother. It contained delicate pink apple blossoms that magically bloomed all year round and a large white cushioned swing hanging from the branch of an enormous oak. Nothing around him was affected by the seasons or the cold. He passed the winter gardens full of ice that shot from the ground in the shape of gnarled trees, fragile flakes of snow falling from the branches. Frost glittered through the darkness from every surface. They were followed by fields of orchards with rows and rows of fruit trees, and the butterfly fields where brightly coloured insects flitted from flower to flower.
As he walked, the hours slipped past at an alarming pace and the faintest nagging concern began to trouble the back of Draco's mind. He pushed blonde hair from his eyes and checked his watch again. He was trying to calculate how long it might take him to get back when round a curve of broken pathways loomed the long glass buildings he had been searching for. He smiled a grim, triumphant smile and hurried onwards.
He cupped a hand to the glass of each construction, squinting through the grime and gloom to discern what was housed inside. The first contained fruits not accustomed to growing in English weather, the second housed mandrakes. The door to the third slid open with a squeal of protest, and Draco stepped into the greenhouse and smiled again at the sight of rare plants and dangerous herbs. Peering through the tangle of plants, he ran through what he was looking for in his mind. His father was not stupid enough to nametag the things he grew illegally in his gardens, but Draco knew what the ashtavarga plant looked like. He stepped over a twist of thick green vines, careful not to touch anything. The flora around him used to be neatly kept and pruned but had grown wild since the house had been abandoned, snaking across the floor and twining together to create a jungle. Draco skirted a large, faintly pulsating brown growth with extra care as everything growing around it seemed to have died.
He made his way slowly up and down the aisles, battling with the desire to hurry and the need to be thorough. A thin and strong blueish vine snaked around his ankle and he kicked it back, his heart pounding.
At last, towards the end, he came across a row of shelves housing small plants with roots that had expanded and cracked the terracotta pots that contained them. In the corner was an undersized, thin stem wilting under the weight of enormous, thick red leaves. They were veined with delicate threads of silver and looked highly poisonous. Draco smiled and reached out towards it, whispering "I found it, Harry."
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Five hours in, Ron and Hermione were gazing down at the figure on the bed, their faces concerned. Hermione's eyes were filled with tears and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Harry lay on the bed, shaking perceptibly, covered in a fine layer of cold sweat. He was not responding to their voices, and jerked away from their touch with a cry of fear or pain. Occasionally he would whimper Draco's name as he clenched his fingers around the bed sheets, reaching out for something that wasn't there.
"This wasn't a good idea," whispered Hermione. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey -"
"No!" Ron hissed, grabbing her wrist. "Think of the trouble we'll all be in if they find out about this! It's the middle of the night, she won't be coming in to check on them for hours - and Malfoy will be back by then, you'll see."
"But look at him, Ron!" she cried, pointing to Harry. "He wasn't ready for this - Malfoy is too far away! It's hurting him!"
"Just give it a little while longer," Ron urged. "Malfoy'll be back before long, I promise."
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Draco crept back into the shadowy manor just as the darkness began to lift to the hazy grey of morning. The glass vial containing three heavy red leaves was clutched tight in his hand and he tiptoed forward, his heart thudding, his nerves on edge. He peered round the conservatory door. The blinding yellow light was still shining and spinning inside the office. He couldn't see the creator or the centre of the spell, only the outsides of the glow through the narrow gap in the open doorway. Silence came from within. Draco crept past as quietly as he could, his whole body tensed, his nerves screaming. He hardly dared to breath. He slipped past and headed silently for the front door, turning to glance backwards at the door and not seeing the small cabinet against the wall in front of him. He knocked into the edge, making him gasp, and he dropped his bag which fell to the dusty carpet with a loud thud.
He froze, his blood turned to ice. His heart was trip hammering in his chest. He bent to scoop up the satchel with trembling fingers and span round to face a tall cloaked figure standing in the doorway to the office, facing in his direction. A wand was pulled from lifeless, thin robes and Draco turned on his heel and ran for his life.
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A/N: I didn't think I would have anyone to give love to seeing as this is so soon after the previous chapter - but hey! Love and thankyous to Nagini Potter, Dezra, Lady Sakura and forevrlostinme. I can't believe we've passed the 100 review mark, I can't thank you guys enough for all your kind words and support :D