A/n:Hello! *waves* Lookie! Another chapter!! This would have been gotten out sooner if SOMEONE (*coughmydadcough*) hadn't spent hours and days on the computer. Cough. Cough. Anyhoo, here is the chapter. I've already written a lot of the next chapter, so its just a matter of a day or two before that comes out. Anyhoo, hope you likes. :p Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you like Chapter 20. I love it.
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"Letters from further away
keep pulling me close to home.
And there's something to cushion my callous sighs.
And I know that you hope for
longer good-byes
embracing for forever
and falling in your eyes…"
--Dashboard Confessional "Living in Your Letters"
Draco and Blaise skipped school the next day, opting instead to stay in their room. Draco was grateful that Blaise just allowed him to sit against the bed and rub his face over and over again, lamenting over things he should have and shouldn't have said.
After class, Snape actually came to their dorm room, his face unreadable. "Was there a holiday that I was not notified about? It seems that you two, and Mr. Potter and his little friends decided to all take a day off. However, I will not tolerate this, and neither shall Dumbledore. Therefore, you are all going to serve detention. I have some..." his mouth curled upwards, "woodland creatures whose bowels need to be prepared. Tonight."
"Yay!" Blaise said weakly after Snape had left, clapping his hands. "Yanking out bunny entrails, my favorite hobby." When he laughed, he threw his head back, and Draco could see his slightly sharpened teeth.
"Do you have vampire in your bloodline?" Draco asked. Blaise touched his widow's peak and then his two teeth.
"What gave it away?" he said sarcastically. Now that he mentioned it, the similarities were blazingly obvious. Draco thought he was pale; Blaise was downright clear.
"Ever thirst for blood?" Draco joked.
Smiling, Blaise replied, "I'll be sure to drain the woodland creatures of all their blood before we work on the entrails."
"Ah, my hero."
Joking made Draco forget about the hateful glint in Harry's eyes, or the angry words they had shouted at each other.
At dinner, detention slips were given to Draco, Blaise, Harry and Weasel, instructing them to go to the storage room in the dungeons at nine o'clock.
"We have to go to detention with them?" Blaise whined. "Why is it the one day I skip school I do it on the day that perfect Potter and his little brown nose buddy do it?"
Harry and Weasel were already lingering outside the door of the storage room when Draco and Blaise arrived. Harry did a double-take when he saw Blaise, and Draco was both nervous and glad to see a flicker of envy behind his eyes.
Snape strolled out of the darkness, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Isn't this a pleasant mix?" he said, his eyes playing between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. He opened the door to the room, and the four students peered in. It was a little smaller than the dungeon classroom the first years used, but it was lined with shelves stocked with picked things in mason jars.
There was a long, rectangular table that had a medium sized cauldron on one end, and four long, sharp knives. Snape motioned for the four to sit down on the uncomfortable wooden chairs. Draco and Blaise sat across from Harry and Weasel.
In gruesome detail, Snape explained exactly what he wanted them to do with the cauldron full of 'recently passed animals' as Snape referred to them. Then he cackled and left them to it.
The first thing they all did the moment Snape had left the room was to cast spells on their noses to block out the smell. However, there was nothing they could do to stop from having to look at the little bunnies and birds -- 'woodland creatures' Blaise whispered -- they were disemboweling.
For awhile there was silence as they tried to get ready to the sights and sounds at their hands. When Blaise pulled out another bunny and swallowed a gag, he said in a low voice to Draco, "I'm going to need therapy after this."
"You need therapy now," mumbled Weasel, cutting savagely into his squirrel. Blaise set his knife down, his teeth on edge.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that you have to be seriously cracked to want to be in Slytherin," Weasel replied, continuing his work. As Blaise began to stand, clutching the entrails he had been working on and no doubt planning to make Weasel eat them, Draco laid a hand on his arm and shook his head. With a grunt, Blaise sat back down. Harry watched the whole exchange.
"Well, Malfoy, I didn't know you and him were such good friends," he said, obviously trying to not sound like the jealous boyfriend.
"Its not like its any of your business, scarboy," Blaise replied.
"It was an off-hand comment, Zabini. A stab at civil conversation, in case you might have heard about it. Do me a favor and get the stick out of your ass before coming to detention," said Harry. Both Weasel and Draco started, having never heard Harry make a comment like that. Blaise's face was turning the color of an apple, and for a moment Draco thought he saw his teeth sharpen.
"Listen, scarboy," Blaise said, rising out of his seat, "are you hoping to have a mouthful of bunny entrails before the end of the night?" Harry rose as well, followed quickly by Weasel. Draco stayed in his seat, not in any way wishing to get in another fight with Harry within forty-eight hours.
Weasel told Blaise exactly where Blaise wanted the entrails, and at that, Draco had to rise. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Don't get me started on your moth-" but Harry leaned over and slipped a hand over Weasel's mouth.
"How about we insult dads tonight?" he said, giving Weasel a knowing look. Draco was grateful to Harry for trying to protect him, but angry at that Harry was assuming an insult about his mother might put him over the edge.
"Okay, what about your dad, Potter?" Draco said venomously. Harry turned to Draco with an odd expression on his face.
"Lay off my parents, and I'll lay off your mother," he said between clenched teeth and a mouth turned in a weird smile.
"Why? They're all dead, aren't they? I don't think they'll mind much."
"I will hit you, Malfoy."
"Don't strain yourself, scarboy." Draco watched Harry's fist clench, and knew he was pushing him to the edge, knew he had to stop before he said something he regretted.
But he didn't have to worry, because Harry beat him to the punch. "I bet your mother thanks her lucky stars every day she's as far away as possible from you," he said, closing his eyes.
Draco did what he had to do.
Harry stumbled backwards as Draco punched him-hard-in the chest. The knife he held clattered to the floor, and with a disgruntled yell, he dove at Draco.
Weasel and Blaise jumped back as Harry and Draco went at it, coming dangerously close to knocking a jar or two off the shelves.
All of Draco's fury went behind each desperate punch, and it was obvious Harry was putting the same amount of force into his. Though Blaise and Weasel couldn't quite pinpoint it, they knew something was passing between Harry and Draco.
The door to the storage room slammed open, and Snape strode in, using his wand to separate the boys roughly. They hung in the air, their chests heaving, faces smeared with each other's blood and the blood of the animals they had been working on.
"Who didn't see this one coming?" Snape said sarcastically. He glanced at Blaise and Weasel, who were trying to look like simply innocent bystanders. "Why didn't you get in on this?" He didn't wait for his answer as he waved his hand. "Go back to your dorms. First, take a shower, because you smell horribly." With many glances over their shoulders, Blaise and Weasel left Harry and Draco with a very angry, and very armed Snape.
"I see it's pointless to give either of you detentions, so I think fifty points from both your houses and I will be speaking with Dumbledore about this incident right now. Before I come back, I expect this room to be clean of this mess and both of you not touching each other."
He broke the spell that kept them floating in the air, causing them to plummet to the ground. Then he turned and left, slamming the door. At first, the two boys lay on the floor, groaning as they adjusted to the pain of falling and the cuts and bruising from rolling around on the floor. But they realized that it would be a suicide wish to further anger Snape by not cleaning up, and they rolled over and began to pick up the scattered entrails.
"This is vile," Harry said, mostly to himself, as he picked up another squirrel.
"What, the mess or our fight?" replied Draco.
"Both were pretty gross." Mere days ago, they would have laughed and hugged and apologized, but now they simply moved farther apart.
Snape found them sitting against opposite walls, coating in muck, and glaring holes into each other's foreheads. "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you, and he will set the time. Until then, both of you should trod carefully." He sniffed the air and made a face. "And take a shower."
He motioned for the door and they set off, eager to get from the room, walking on either side of the hallway until they reached the hallway here Draco had turn onto to get to his dorm. They both paused.
The silence was so thick they could have cut it with a knife, and Draco felt anger growing in his stomach, beneath the blood and grime covering him, under all the pain that he still felt from their fights.
"Harry, I…I…let this go on too long," Draco said softly, turning his face away to avoid Harry's pleading look.
"You don't mean that," whispered Harry, his voice filled with sadness.
"I know what I mean," replied Draco, splaying his fingers against the wall and pressed his face into it.
"You don't. You're scared."
Swallowing a sob, Draco only said, "No, I'm not." But it was a lie, and they both knew it. For the first time that night, Harry approached Draco slowly, with measured steps, ignoring how dirty and battered they were at each other's hands. He reached forward and took Draco's hand, ignoring how Draco flinched away.
"I'm just as scared," Harry said, his lips close to Draco's ears.
"I am not scared," Draco said, his voice getting stronger, raising his head and tearing his wrist away from Harry's grasp. Harry instinctively jumped back, no doubt bracing himself for both an onslaught of hurtful strikes and words.
Draco squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height, Like a true Malfoy. "I don't think you get it, Potter. Its over. Done. Finished."
Harry fell back further this time, suddenly seeing the striking resemblance to Lucius Malfoy. The cold steel of the Malfoy family line had edged its way into Draco's voice, slicing through the last layers to Harry's heart, and he felt himself shrink and part of his heart die when Draco called him Potter.
"Good," he said, despite himself, despite knowing they were making the biggest mistake of their lives, "it never would have worked anyway, Malfoy. I don't think I'm really cut out for being friends with cold-blooded murderers."
"Well, it wasn't me who killed Cedric Diggory, now was it?" hissed Draco back. At once, he knew it was the exact wrong thing to say. If his other words had stirred something in Harry, those had. He had unburied something that was not to be touched.
"And it wasn't me who caused the death of my own mother. And it isn't me who is a traitor to both sides of the magic world." Then, before the tears could fall for either, they both stalked away.
In the dorm, Blaise immediately jumped up to question Draco to what had happened, but he fell back at the haunted look in Draco's eyes.
"Draco...what happened?" Draco walked to his bed, reached under the pillow and threw the Famous Witches and Wizard's card underneath it.
"Draco?" Blaise whispered again, trying to catch his eyes. But Draco breezed past Blaise, going for the bathroom, slamming the door and groping under the long line of sinks for the dagger. There must have been something in the way he moved that worried Blaise, who had begun to try to force the door open. Finding the dagger, Draco shook of the sheath and sent it flying loudly across the floor. Then he pressed the dagger to his stomach, and let out a whimper as Blaise stumbled into the room.
Blaise got down on his hands and knees and crawled over to Draco, murmuring things and prying the dagger from Draco's hands. Then, with touches that were soft and comforting, he pulled off Draco's stained robes and used a towel and some soap to carefully wash Draco. He didn't say anything about the juxtaposition of scars, but he did, at one point, press his hand against them. By then, Draco had fallen into a sort of stupor, and moved only when Blaise whispered to him to do something.
He felt himself being dressed for bed, and he barely remembered walking to bed and lying down. He didn't remember, however, Blaise tucking him in carefully, nor did he feel it when Blaise bent over and softly, quietly, kissed his forehead.
~
In the morning, Draco has the worst emotional hangover, and he felt incredibly grimy. The first thing he did, grateful there was no school on Saturday, was take a long shower.
When he got out, he watched Blaise as he towel-dried his hair. The boy had a little spring in his step, and he couldn't wipe a mile-wide grin off his face. Even though Draco was feeling miserable, he knew that kind of look like the back of his hand.
"Blaise," he said, as he tried to tame his hair, "this will sound really weird, but..." Blaise glanced at him with eyes gleaming, "are you in love?"
With an airy chuckle, Blaise chirped, "In a way." No amount of pestering by Draco could get Blaise to tell him who it was with, and his badgering was met only with that brilliant smile and sparkling eyes, the look of a boy head over heels in love with someone.
But Blaise's infatuation with the mysterious someone was the least of Draco's worries. Pansy, who had been relatively cold to Draco, even commented on his walking dead like state. He found himself numbly dropping his books and not remembering picking them up.
If he had been slightly more observant, he would have noticed the same thing about Harry. The classes they attended that day could have blown up, but neither would have felt it or cared. Their friends noticed, their teachers noticed, and Dumbledore must have noticed, because they received letters to see him during lunch.
Draco got there first, and Dumbledore was waiting, and allowed him to go up first, and looked at him oddly when he sat down on the stairs and allowed them to carry him.
The office door was opened, and he sat down in a chair and bent over his knees, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. Something moved through the air and rested heavily on his shoulder, and when he opened his bleary eyes to look at it, he was almost blinded by the brilliant red and gold shimmer of a phoenix.
"Well, we can see where we got the 'order of the phoenix,'" Draco muttered, causing the Phoenix the flutter its wings, and Draco instinctively ducked, worried he was going to have his hair lit on fire.
"Ah, I see you've met Fawkes," Dumbledore said from behind Draco, and there was soft shuffling as he led Harry to the chair not far from him. Draco didn't even bother to look at him. Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and fixed the boys with a deep stare. "Professor Snape has told me that you had a fight in the middle of his detention."
There was no response from the boys. Dumbledore sighed and said, "The stability of this order depends on the cooperation between its members. You both were doing extraordinarily well, and I would like to know what caused this set back."
"Did you know the nature of our relationship?" Harry mumbled, rubbing his face. Dumbledore glanced at him sharply.
"I don't presume to know everything about your and Mr. Malfoy's relationship, however, I did have an idea."
"Then you understand the nature of our...parting of the ways," Harry said coldly, glancing at Draco, implying with his tone that it was a reference only Dumbledore would know. Draco bristled.
"Your 'parting of the ways' is none of my business, but it becomes this order's business when it becomes a problem with relationship. Will this incident hinder either of your abilities to help?"
"The only think hindering me is the lack of trust," Draco said angrily. Dumbledore blinked.
Instead of giving him some half-hearted excuse, Dumbledore gave Draco a smidgen of respect and said simply, "I would hope you would understand that such precautions are necessary."
"Then surely you will understand my precaution in getting closer to Mr. Potter, and with giving out any information that I have."
"I had hoped it wouldn't come to this," Dumbledore said.
"Me, too," Draco said curtly, standing. "If you would rather I not be part of the order, fine by me. I would prefer to have my memory remain unmodified. And I would prefer if Mr. Potter didn't have any contact with me."
"If that's the way you really feel…" Dumbledore stood. Harry looked from Draco's angry face to Dumbledore's calm expression.
"You're just going to let him walk away?" But Draco was already storming out.
As he closed the door, he caught Dumbledore's reply. "I think I should be saying that to you."
That night at dinner, Draco sat in sullen silence, not touching his food, glancing over at Harry whenever he dared. Granger was whispered something to him, and at one moment, glanced up and locked eyes with Draco. They were frozen, staring at each other, until Blaise nudged Draco and looked in the same direction.
"Mudblood," Blaise mouthed, and then laughed. Draco tore his eyes away reluctantly, and was riveted to the small square of parchment he hadn't noticed before. He picked it up and unfolded it, and there, in neat script, it said, "Meet me in the Great Hall at midnight."
Draco prayed, as he tore up the letter, that it was Harry, and that they could put this mess behind them.
When he sneaked down to the Great Hall, he felt horribly exposed without his invisibility cloak and he wished he had it as every corner he turned felt like it was being watched by Peeves, or Filch.
The door to the Great Hall was heavy, and he had to grunt to open it, catching the attention of the waiting student who sat in front of the fire. It wasn't Harry, nor was it Blaise. It wasn't even Pansy.
Hermione Granger looked at him from across the hall.
