Disclaimer:
I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.
Authors' Note:
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Chapter 28
"Prelude"
'Potter?'
'Harry?'
'POTTER!'
'I'm asleep, Malfoy!'
The light flickers on and Draco Malfoy leans over the rim of his bed and peers down to the mattress on the floor, where Harry is squinting up at him, ash-faced and cranky.
'You're not sleeping,' Draco observes.
'Because you won't let me.'
'No, because you're still feeling sick.'
Harry puts a hand over his eyes, palm upwards, shielding his eyes from the light. And from Draco's scrutinizing gaze. 'I'm not sick,' he says.
Draco sighs in his best 'Why am I even putting up with this inferior Gryffindor?' manner. 'You stumbled into the bathroom again less than five minutes ago, Potter,' he says, 'where you probably puked your guts out. Again.'
'I had to pee,' Harry lies flatly.
'For the third time in one hour,' Draco returns in the same tone of voice.
'I did not puke,' Harry says. It's true.
'But you thought you would. You probably wanted to.'
That is true also.
'I am not sick,' Harry insists.
There is a pause and then Draco quietly says: "True, Potter, you're not sick. But you feel sick.'
'No, I don't. I'm fine. Peachy.'
'Okay, Potter!' Harry hears Draco push his blanket aside and he peers out from underneath his hand to see the Slytherin swinging his legs over the bed and then leaning forward until his elbows touch his knees. He folds his hands as if he's about to say a prayer, but his two index fingers point at Harry. Pointedly.
'Uh-oh,' Harry thinks. Everything about Draco's posture suggests "I'm not going to be lied to any longer, mate!" and when Draco announces 'Here's the deal!' Harry knows that it is true.
Lies won't do.
'The deal is,' Draco repeats, 'you will start being honest with me and I won't tell my father you're still being sick.'
'Your father?' Harry asks, sitting up quickly. 'Why the hell would you do that? I'm not a child anymore. And neither are you, Malfoy!'
'My father who will, I'm sure, immediately report the state of your health to Hogwarts' resident Potions master, i.e. my godfather, i.e. the man you love,' nods Draco, unfazed, rolling and stretching out the last word so mockingly that Harry feels compelled to take his pillow and hit it over the Slytherin's head.
'And why, pray tell, would your dad do that?' he asks afterwards, putting the pillow back in its place and hitting it into shape grumpily, but not lying back down. 'I mean, why do you even care? Any of you? You're all Slytherins. You're supposed to hate me, remember?'
'See, Potter, and here's the thing,' Draco says amiably. 'Not too long ago, all three of us did just that. Hate you, I mean. Without pretending, even, and it was fun. Me, I hated you, because ...'
He falters. '… I thought you had lied to me back then,' he thinks, but doesn't say it out loud.
'Because I chose Ron over you in our first year?' Harry asks.
'Yes,' Draco nods. He grins impishly and adds: 'Although that does sound kind of funny … what, with you being gay and all.'
He winks at Harry who merely rolls his eyes.
'Anyways! My father hated you for many reasons,' Draco continues, smirking. 'You were a Gryffindor, you were James Potter's son, you repeatedly defied various Killing Curses ('I'm truly sorry,' Harry throws in, dryly), you cheated him of a house-elf, you became the youngest Seeker in a century instead of me … do I need to go on?' he asks dramatically. 'This is becoming painful.'
Harry smiles crookedly. 'No, I'm getting the idea,' he says. He looks down at his hands, knowing that Draco's list is not over yet.
As if on cue Draco goes on: 'Severus hated you because of your pedigree, I suppose. Your dad and your dogfather were not exactly members of the Severus Snape fanclub, if I'm not mistaken. And because it's what's he does, he walks around hating people. Being pissed off at the world is his job. Well, at least it was.'
'It's not anymore?' Harry asks, looking up.
'When was the last time you saw Severus Snape being pissed off with you, Potter?' asks Draco in return, watching Harry closely. He seems to choose his next words carefully. 'When was the last time you saw the angry, vile, bitter Potions master you've learned to hate already on your first day at Hogwarts?'
Harry thinks this over.
'I don't remember,' he says at last, his voice full of wonder.
'I'll tell you when Potter,' Draco replies. 'The last day of our fourth year, when we all returned home for the summer holidays, that was the last time you saw him like that. And do you want to know when I saw him like that last?'
Again, Harry doesn't look at him when he replies 'Yes' almost breathlessly.
'The last time I saw my godfather being continuously angry at everyone and everything in a hundred mile radius was on the same day you walked into his kitchen for the very first time,' Draco informs him.
'Now you're being silly,' Harry says very quietly and still not looking at Draco, who ignores him and instead says: 'Incidentally, that's the same day we two managed to stay in the same room for more than thirty minutes without hexing each other.'
'We only didn't hex each other because we didn't want to be rude in front of Priya,' Harry reasons.
'That's probably true,' Draco shrugs. 'But what about the next day when we played Quidditch for the first time? We could have killed each other and we didn't.'
'You did give me a black eye, though,' Harry returns, smiling reminiscently.
'That was an accident,' Draco replies. 'And I apologized.'
'You said "Well, next time just don't fly into my elbow, Potter!'. Fantastic apology, really!'
Draco grins. 'I had a point, didn't I? And I magicked your black eye away. I healed you when I very well could have Crucio'd you.'
'Maybe you were just scared?'
Draco tuts. 'Of you? Oh, pu-leez!' He straightens up, looking at Harry solemnly. 'You let me heal you, Potter,' he says. 'You trusted me. You knew I wasn't going do anything stupid.'
'What's your point?' Harry asks, hoarsely.
'You trusted me just like you trusted Severus enough to come with him that day when he first came to get you from your aunt and uncle's house.'
'The point?' Harry demands again.
'If anyone would have told you half a year ago that one day you would live at Severus Snape's house – and without being kidnapped, too – and become Draco Malfoy's best friend, what would you have said?'
'I would have said nothing,' Harry sighs. 'I would have had them committed.'
'And yet you came with Severus that day,' Draco smiles. 'Why?'
'I didn't want them to take away my wand.'
Draco chuckles.
'Severus could have done just that, Potter, and you know it. Right before he presented you to the Dark Lord on a silver plate, that is.'
'But he didn't.'
'How could you be sure of that when you followed him?'
'I wasn't. I was actually worrying about Voldemort.'
'Oh, the worry must have eaten you up, I'm sure,' Draco replies sarcastically. 'Come off it, Potter, he didn't even have to convince you!'
'I knew that Dumbledore trusted him.'
Draco snorts contemptuously. 'Dumbledore also trusted the Dementors enough to let them on Hogwarts grounds. You wouldn't follow them home, would you?'
'What's your point?' Harry repeats more loudly, but Draco's on a roll.
'You came with my godfather because YOU were the one who trusted him, not Dumbledore. Somehow you just knew he wouldn't hurt you, didn't you? You also trusted Severus enough to tag along for our Christmas Dinner. A Christmas Dinner with my parents. My father! A Death Eater who, funnily enough, did not curse you into oblivion. Who did not call the other Death Eaters. Who did not inform the Dark Lord of a very good chance to catch the Golden Boy and get rid of him at last.'
'Yeah, well, maybe your father didn't want to ruin everybody's Christmas cheer,' Harry says. Crossly.
Draco yawns.
'Or maybe he didn't want to piss Severus off,' Harry offers as an afterthought. 'They are friends after all.'
Draco nods. 'Now that's more like it, isn't it?' he asks brightly. 'Ever since you got here, my dad's being more civil with you than I've ever seen him with anyone who's not a member of this family. He even allows you over for a sleepover, which reminds me: Severus is not here now. My father could do Merlin knows what with the one and only Harry Potter … but he doesn't. Instead he's watching you worriedly all evening as though he's afraid you might suddenly keel over and die or something. Then, after dinner, when you and my mum are in the kitchen, he holds me back and very firmly tells me to keep a good eye on you and inform him as soon as you show any signs of distress or illness, or else I'll get grounded until I'm fifty-eight.'
Harry's eyes widen in surprise.
'Well, maybe your father poisoned my dinner,' he grins lamely.
'Leave the jokes to me, Potter, you're not funny,' Draco snaps without real anger.
'Sorry.' Harry blushes. Draco waves him off.
'Anyway, then you go to get your wand from Sev's and when you come back you're practically green with anger, clearly distressed over something and ready and willing to hex me senseless.'
Harry swallows.
'Shortly afterwards, Severus waltzes in here with a jar full of cookies, one of which he offers specifically to you, asking us if we're alright.'
'Well, Priya asked him …'
'Honestly, Potter!' Draco rolls his eyes. 'Did Lupin not feed you enough chocolate in our third year for you to realize that chocolate isn't always just chocolate? But then, you already felt better the second Sev stepped into the room, didn't you?'
'Well, yes. I told you I have a crush on him,' replies Harry defensively. 'I like seeing him.'
Draco nods. 'Fair enough. And you were upset because you had just seen William Copley at his house.'
'Yes.'
'And why did you throw up?'
'What do I know? Maybe it was food poisoning after all!'
'You mean like that one time when you fainted in the middle of the Great Hall?' Draco smiles.
Harry tenses.
'I have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy,' he says quietly.
'Oh, but I think you do,' Draco replies in the same low voice. 'You and I both know it wasn't food poisoning that made you cringe and writhe in pain that evening. I thought it was a Crucio. And it turned out I was right. Well, sort of, anyway.'
Harry blanches.
'Because it wasn't you who was being crucio'd,' Draco continues evenly. 'It was Severus.'
Harry flinches as though Draco just doused him in ice water.
'You're barking mad,' he finally manages to say.
'But he was,' Draco says in a tone that suggests he is merely talking about the weather. 'I asked him afterwards. Didn't you ever wonder why he missed the beginning of the new term? He was with the Dark Lord. It was Voldemort who hurt him that evening when you fainted. But you know that already, don't you? You felt it.'
'So what if I did?' Harry whispers. 'I'm a freak. Everyone knows that! I'm connected to Voldemort, I saw him attacking Mr. Weasley. So maybe that's how I felt …'
Harry's voice threatens to break and so he stops talking.
'Yes, Golden Boy,' Draco says gently. 'You might have some twisted connection to the Dark Lord, but that's not the only one you're connected to. You and my godfather … you two share a bond, too, don't you? A bond about a hundred times stronger that the one between you and Voldemort.'
Harry jumps up quickly. He stands in the middle of Draco's room now, stock still, his fists clenched by his sides.
'What are you talking about?' he hisses. 'Your godfather and I share no bond, no connection, whatsoever.'
'Explain to me what happened when Voldemort tried to break into your mind on Christmas Eve, then.'
'Severus used this Occlu-stuff on me!'
'You don't use Occlumency on other people,' Draco informs him calmly. 'You use Legilimency when you try to enter somebody's mind, like the Dark Lord tried with you. You use Occlumency to protect your mind against Legilimency. Your own mind! You can not, however, protects somebody else's' mind with it.'
'Maybe your godfather is very good at Occlumency,' Harry tries.
Draco smiles. 'He is! He's the best there is, actually,' he agrees. 'But even Severus can't do what's impossible. Unless … you and him are close. Very close. Extremely close.'
'He's been nice to me and so I've developed a childish, little crush on him and that's all there is to it,' Harry says business-like, but he's very white and his hands are still clenched into fists.
Draco gets up from his bed and walks over to Harry until they stand right in front of each other. 'It seems like that, doesn't it?' Draco asks kindly. 'You only have a crush and he's only being kind. But tell me, Potter. When have you last developed an infatuation with someone who's been nice to you? Or anyone, for that matter?'
'Never!' Harry snarls. 'I've never been in love before with anyone.'
'And now tell me, when was the last time you saw our dearest Potions master ever being nice to any of his students?' Draco grins and nonchalantly waves his hand. 'Me, I'm not counting.'
A shiver runs through Harry's body, but his jaw is set and for a moment Draco can actually hear the Gryffindor grinding his teeth.
'You're so full of shit, Malfoy!' Harry hisses at last.
'Why did you throw up tonight, Potter?' Draco asks again in return.
'I don't know!' Harry growls through clenched teeth.
'Did you vomit because you were still upset about Sev and his Ex?'
'Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy!'
Draco shakes his head and sighs. 'But what's with the attitude, Golden Boy? One might think you're so aggressive because you know I'm right.'
'I'm aggressive because you're being a fucking moron, Malfoy!'
'Stop calling me 'Malfoy' when we're at home,' Draco says abruptly and suddenly his face is somber. 'I don't like it.'
'You call me 'Potter' all the time,' Harry says incredulously.
'Yes, and I also call you a midget, four-eyes, Merlin knows what. I call a lot of people names without really meaning it. But you have this tone when you call me by my last name, like you truly hate me.'
Harry replies with a single bark of laughter. 'How spooky!' he says sarcastically. 'Maybe that's because – right now – I really do.'
Satisfied he watches as - just for a moment - Draco's cockiness seems to ripple, but the Slytherin recomposes himself quickly. He steps closer and whispers:
'Have you ever heard of soulmate bonds before, Potter?'
'Don't,' Harry says simply.
'I thought so,' returns Draco. 'Do you have a soulmate, Harry Potter?'
'I said don't.'
'Do. You. Have. A. Soulmate.'
'Severus is not him!'
Draco smirks. 'Want to bet on it?'
'What I want is for you to shut the fuck up,' Harry says tonelessly. He's trembling now. 'Severus is being kind to me. My soulmate hates my guts! He doesn't want anything to do with me. Sirius said so.'
Draco seems to consider this for a moment.
'Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?' he asks finally. 'He and your father hated Severus.'
'He wouldn't lie to me about something so important!'
'Maybe he didn't. We've already talked about this,' Draco continues nonchalantly. 'Severus did hate you, up until the summer holidays and now look at you two! You turn fifteen and whatdoyouknow! Here you are, living with him under his roof in perfect harmony, all previous problems forgotten. You do know that a soulmate bond needs time to develop, right? He probably didn't even know until that summer. Although I'm beginning to wonder just how much he really ever hated you to begin with.'
'You hated me until the summer! Suddenly you're nice to me and we're the best of friends. You said it yourself, I trust you just like I trust Severus,' Harry says angrily. 'What makes you think that he is my soulmate and not you, huh? Maybe you and I are soulmates and we don't know, because our bond is not strong enough yet.'
Draco laughs. Then, he leans forward. 'Let's find out, shall we?' he asks softly.
Their noses are almost touching.
Draco lifts a hand and Harry knows he's about to touch him - about to wipe a strand of hair from his forehead or stroke over his cheek or whatever it is people always do in movies before they're about to kiss. Draco is intent on winning his bet.
Harry intercepts Draco's touch by catching his wrist in his hand.
He holds it firmly. So firmly that Draco's eyes widen in surprise. There will probably be a bruise on the Slytherin's arm tomorrow, but Harry doesn't care.
'I like you very much, Draco,' he says and suddenly he's very calm, 'and I would hate to lose you as a friend. Do you happen to feel the same way about me, by any chance?'
'Yes!'
The raven-haired Gryffindor releases him.
'Then let's forget this conversation ever took place and go back to bed. Okay?' Harry smiles very brightly and suddenly Draco wants nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry.
'Okay,' he says.
Without looking at each other, they lie down on their beds.
'Good-night, Draco,' says Harry.
'Good-night, Harry,' Draco replies.
And then he turns off the light.
To be continued
