Chapter 3

. . .

Draco felt the need to walk on eggshells around Harry. This man held the power to choose to keep Draco safe and warm or kick him out into the cold where he'd be up for grabs for Death Eaters. Given the choice between the two options, he much preferred the former.

Especially now when the sun had gone down and it was getting later and later. He could already feel the panic begin to set in. He had seen Hermione go upstairs to her room about an hour ago, and Harry had set up a pillow and blankets on the sofa for Draco before he also started a fire, much to his surprise.

He tried to relax as he tossed and turned, closing his eyes as he attempted to fall asleep. He was warm, but comfortably so, so he stubbornly continued to switch sides continuously until it was at least ten. He found relief when he felt himself fall into sleep finally.

"You think you're worth anything, Draco? You're not. We know where your loyalties lie, and it's not with Voldemort's side,"

He felt like his legs were frozen and his heart was hammering hard inside his chest as he looked out of the closet blinds at Zabini who was looking around the room.

"You're a coward… that's why you're hiding in a fucking closet. Come out, come out, wherever you are, and I'll tell them not to kill you."

Draco tried to hold his breath as Blaise walked closer to the closet door and even put his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making any noise. It was hopeless though because of course Blaise was smart enough to open the closet doors, smirking sickly when he saw Draco.

The next thing he knew, he was screaming in excruciating pain on his knees as hot fire shot through his back as they burned a T into his skin. When it was all over, he fell over, whimpering pathetically as he forced himself not to cry.

The pain felt so real.

So real.

Too real.

Draco gasped and let out a cry as he woke up, breathing heavily as his face was covered in a thin later of sweat. He looked around, taking in his surroundings and swearing that he could feel the pain still. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his eyes, resigned to not getting any sleep.

He stood up and thought about getting some water, but he really wasn't thirsty. He was terrified, more than anything.

Logically he had nothing to be afraid of; the front door was locked, and he wasn't going to freeze to death or be jumped tonight. Of course Draco's mind just wouldn't let up.

He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He didn't know what he thought he was going to do but he grabbed the large, fluffy blanket off the couch, wrapped it around himself and quietly headed upstairs. He didn't want to wake either of them up, but he also knew he didn't want to be alone right now.

Draco stood outside Harry's door and lifted up his hand to knock on it gently, but then thought better of it, and retracted his hand back down to his side. He didn't want to get on Harry's bad side already and risk being thrown back outside.

Instead, he hugged the blanket around him and slid down against the wall near the door, resting his head against it. He breathed in, and out, and just the thought that Harry was sleeping only a few feet away from him helped his mind to settle down again and he soon drifted off to sleep again.

…. … …..

"Malfoy, hey… wake up,"

Draco felt a hand shake him gently and he lifted his head up sharply, instantly feeling a dull ache in his neck from his poor sleeping position. He blinked several times, sleepily rubbing his eyes with the blanket still tightly wrapped around his body with his knees tucked into himself.

"Hey, good morning. What are you doing up here? Are you sleepwalking now?" His tone wasn't cold but merely curious.

Draco shrugged and took another deep breath before he looked at Harry, who he realized looked just as tired as him. "Couldn't sleep."

Before Harry could say anything, they both saw a sleepy-looking Hermione appear from the room opposite, look between the two men, before she headed down the hall and disappeared down the stairs. Draco looked at Harry questioningly, but Harry didn't acknowledge the elephant in the flat.

"Come on… let's go downstairs and get some coffee," Harry held out his hand to help Draco up. The gesture took the blonde by surprise, but he reached out of his blanket and grabbed it before being pulled up onto his feet by Harry.

He felt something electric shoot through their hands but if Harry felt it too, he didn't let on. He just looked at Draco expectantly, but then a thought crossed Draco's mind, and he didn't care to ask it in front of Hermione.

"Err… if you two are together, why… why aren't you sleeping in the same room?"

Harry gave a slight grimace and rubbed the back of his neck in thought before he looked back at Draco. "It's sort of complicated, Malfoy, and… personal."

There was a finality in his tone that signaled that it was the end of that particular discussion, so Draco just nodded in half-understanding before he let it drop, and let Harry lead them downstairs into the kitchen. He was more than curious, of course, but he also wasn't stupid; he knew that he needed to prove himself trustworthy first or else he'd end up in Death Eater hands, so he kept his mouth shut.

In school, he was more likely than not to push Harry's buttons, as well as those of his friends, but years had passed since then, times had changed, and everyone was still war-torn. Draco liked to believe he had matured a lot since those school years together anyway.

He poured himself some coffee and sat down at the table, next to Harry and looked across at Hermione who was sipping her coffee as well and reading the Daily Prophet quietly. Draco couldn't believe how she could look the same and different at the same time. He glazed over her features. Her body was a lot thinner, most likely from emaciation or lack of appetite. It looked unhealthy, but not yet dangerously so. It brought him more worry than disgust; sure, he had bullied her a fair share in school, but again, things had changed since then.

He also noticed scars on her forearms, more than just Mudblood that Beatrix had cursed her with, though. Now that he was closer, he also noticed than there were raised scars on her forearms as well that went vertical.

Draco must have been looking at her for too long because he felt a sharp kick under the table and glanced over at Harry who was looking at him pointedly. The blonde cleared his throat and gave an apologetic nod of understanding before he focused instead on his coffee.

"How long have you been out there for, Draco?" Hermione's soft voice suddenly asked from across the table.

He thought back and held the mug in both his hands, warming them up. "Probably since…" He swallowed hard, unsure if he wanted to say anything at all, but he knew he had to give some answer. "Since my mother passed."

"Oh," she gave what he supposed was a sympathetic smile. "Right, I'm… I'm sorry. That must have been difficult for you. I do remember seeing her obituary in the paper now. It didn't say how she died, though. I mean… if you don't mind me asking…?"

"Hermione," Harry suddenly intervened, a gentle warning in his voice as he looked between Draco and her now. "Maybe it's not the most appropriate question to ask, especially at breakfast?"

She glanced over at Harry as if she were looking right through him before she suddenly turned sheepishly back to Draco and her brows creased together, as if in confusion. She shook her head and looked embarrassed now.

"R-Right, forgive me, Draco. H-Harry's right… I shouldn't have asked that. Sometimes I just… forget myself."

Draco waved dismissively and gave a weak chuckle to ease the tension. "It's fine. I mean… thanks, but… he's right; it's not really something I want to talk about."

She nodded and gave a small smile before returning to her paper. Draco looked over at Harry who was looking somewhat uncomfortable now. The two men sat in a tense silence for several minutes before Hermione suddenly stood up so sharply that her chair toppled over.

"U-Umm… p-please excuse me… I suddenly don't feel well," she hurried upstairs, and they heard a door slam closed.

Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion and as if he were reading his mind, Harry stood up slowly and walked over to the paper, scanning it to see what could have caused Hermione so much distress. He tensed suddenly as his eyes landed upon the article and he ran a hand through his hair.

"What is it?" Draco asked softly.

Harry sighed heavily. "Susan Bones was murdered, by Death Eaters yesterday." His tone was thick with anger, but he somehow kept it in check. He looked over at Draco, his eyes lingering on the Dark Mark for too long before he forced himself to look away.

Draco felt himself shrink under Harry's gaze and he somehow felt responsible. He felt like he had been the one who had killed her, which of course was ridiculous. He barely knew her, only of her. He didn't know her last known location where she had been living, but somehow this felt like his fault.

"Does… it say who killed her?"

Harry gave Draco a sharp look now and scoffed. "Does it really matter who killed her, Malfoy? She's dead! She's dead because of –ʺ He stopped himself and paced slowly in the kitchen, biting his tongue.

He felt guilt be pushed into him some more and he forced himself to meet Harry's eyes. "What? Say what you were going to say, Potter. She was killed because of what?" He challenged him.

Harry narrowed his eyes but they just looked tired. "Because of what you are. Because of your kind… your family! Your prejudice."

The words felt like Harry had said a curse that made tiny knives stab Draco's chest repeatedly. He wasn't surprised to hear this come from Harry; after all, they had spent years hating each other. Why should they stop now? He swallowed hard and realized that he would have to make a case for himself now.

He let the blanket drop from his shoulders and he stood up. "These Death Eaters aren't my family, Potter. They're not… my kind anymore, and I promise you that I sure as hell don't hold those prejudices against half-bloods anymore. They're not my people."

"That's such a load of bollocks," Harry shook his head and then let out a humorless laugh. "It's funnier that you actually believe the words coming out of your mouth. All those years of bullying Hermione because of what she was, and… now this? It's too perfect… it really is!"

"What, you think I had something to do with her death?" Draco asked in disbelief, panic edging into his chest. "I was here! It's not like I'm 'in' with the Death Eaters anymore, Potter! I never even talk to my father! I'm not a part of them anymore!"

"You're so full of it, Malfoy…" Harry spoke almost in disgust. "Prove it. Prove that you're not in with them still."

Draco's head started to spin, and he felt nauseous. "Why do you think I came here looking for sanctuary? It sure as hell wasn't because I wanted to party with you! They're after me too!"

"Why?" Harry questioned; his jaw tight. "Why would they be after you? Your family was close to them! They were close to Voldemort!"

"I don't believe in any of that shit anymore!" Draco insisted. "I've tried to burn this fucking thing off my arm! I hate it! Why would I do that if I wanted to still be one?"

Harry didn't have any answer to this but he also wasn't showing any signs of believing Draco either. The blonde bit his lip nervously and took off his shirt. The gesture surprised Harry so much so that he raised his wand quickly.

Draco put his hands up and then turned around before he knelt down on the linoleum floor in a goodwill gesture of surrender and submission, his hands still raised. He felt Harry's fingers trace over the large T scar on his back now, suddenly a shiver down Draco's spine at the touch of Harry's finger on his bare skin.

He could feel Harry's eyes scanning his back at the rest of the battle scars he had endured, obvious that he had missed them completely yesterday.

"What does the T stand for?"

Draco swallowed hard. "Traitor," he said quietly. "It stands for traitor."

There was a long silence again and then he felt Harry's fingers tracing the other scars on his back. He shivered, not having felt such a gentle touch in so long that it almost made him want to cry, but he controlled himself.

He then felt Harry gently grab his arm and help him back to his feet. "You can put your hands down now… I believe you."

Draco turned around and then put his shirt back on, feeling a chill raising goosebumps on his skin. He searched Harry's green eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, running another hand through his hair. "I do. They wouldn't just put that on their own so easily. You really would have had to prove you weren't loyal to the cause anymore."

Draco nodded, remembering that day so vividly, but deciding to push it away for now; he'd probably see it in his dreams later anyway. He cleared his throat scratchily, having been ready to beg and plead to let him stay there.

"Were… Granger and Bones close, then?"

Harry put his wand down, setting it back down on the table. "Susan had killed a Death Eater that had attacked Hermione during the War. He… had cornered her while everyone else was busy fighting, and… she had been trapped there. Susan found her and killed the Death Eater, thus… saving Hermione from any… further pain."

Draco's brows furrowed, not fully understanding how the scene had gone down but assumed that a Death Eater had simply cornered Hermione and was about to kill her, and Susan Bones had found them and killed him. He could see conflict in Harry's face; there was something else he was hiding, but he didn't say anything else.

Draco had so many questions, but he kept them locked inside himself. He had his past that wasn't proud of either, things he had done during the War, things he hadn't been proud of… questions he knew he wouldn't want to answer either, so he let them go.

It wasn't a matter of trust anymore; Draco had proven that Harry could trust him now. It was a matter of simple mutual respect not to ask personal questions about anything they had done during the War, at least not until their friendship could grow more.

"Look, Malfoy… while you're here, don't… push Hermione into talking too much, yeah? She's been through… a lot, and it messes with her sometimes. Just… let her be, okay?" He asked him in a tone that was suggestive, but firm.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, all right. Fine."

"Good. Make yourself at home, then, I suppose. I'm just going to go upstairs and make sure she's all right," Harry explained before he threw out the newspaper and headed up the stairs, leaving Draco alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

Draco went back to his coffee, and then poured himself a second cup before sitting down again and nursed it in his hands. He was feeling strange, foreign feelings for Harry that he hadn't felt before. Even when he had been in danger of being thrown outside, he found that he was scared that he'd never be able to see Harry again.

This wasn't love.

He wasn't what this was exactly, but he felt the urge to explore it further, but then he remembered that Harry was with Hermione, and he felt nauseous and ashamed with himself all over again.