Title: Bad Faith
Chapter: 11/?

Author name: badfaith
Author email: anna@tomfelton.zzn.com

Author website: http://www.undisguised.net and http://nightfall.undisguised.net
Category: Angst
Sub Category: Drama
Rating: R

Summary: Draco Malfoy learned a few things he didn't want to know, and as a result he is plunged into a war. Will Harry Potter be able to save him before it's too late? Or will Harry learn things that might condemn Draco to death?
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The plot and title are mine, though!

Warning: This story contains slash, which are two boys who are in a sexual relationship together. If that's not your cup o' tea, I suggested you find some that is, or you'll miss your teatime. ^_^

A/N: Whoo-hoo! Slash ahead maties! But be warned, 'tis accompanied by angst.

Thank You's to Reviewers: BlancheMalfoy: Draco possessed…hehehehe. Don't you just want to know!, Milly Chan: More mature, huh? Why, thank you. I try not to eat as much sugar and kill my brain cells as much as other people *cough cough*. I love the word 'slithered', too. Just makes you want to use variations of it for cuss words., Val Mora: Oh, yes. That Voldie-bunny. *Tsk-tsk* We shall see about that possession part.

Thank You's to Others: Hmm. My Muse is due for another one. Thank you! *huggles Muse until they protest and try to push her away* No one guessed where that poem was from! I was hoping someone would. *Sulks*

Here it is again. Please guess who or where this is quoted from! You have to read the Interlude to get this, and why I used it.

"For low!

The vestiges of bondage have ceased to exist.

And I will once more travel barefoot

On the salty breeze of carelessness."

Chapter Eleven

Alone

Harry sat down in one of the many alcoves hidden in the niches of Hogwarts. There were many, yes, but this was his favorite one. He often came here to relax and be himself, something he wasn't allowed to do often.

It reflected a sort of peace. The ceiling was charmed to look out into the night sky, and the velvet cushions were a deep blue, and stars hung on the wall. It was like a miniature Astronomy Tower, only homier since Harry had added some of his personal effects. He had brought a deep burgundy colored wooden table from a storeroom and set it in the corner. Later, he had found some folded velvet blue curtain in the same storage room, and had draped it over the table. On top of the table was a silver bowl, which Harry had thought extremely charming, and that had turned up one day on top of the table.

There were other little knickknacks placed strategically around the alcove, some of his own doing, others not. He had an inkling someone else used the alcove as their own private haven, and Harry gladly welcomed them too it. Their own additions had made the room feel more at home, like Harry's and this other's things belonged together, side by side. Harry settled down to reflect upon things in general.

He came upon the conclusion that he had bottled up his emotions entirely too much over the past months, and he needed to just let it all out -- a short while after he had comfortably settled himself down on the rich velvet cushions.

He felt himself drifting comfortably off to sleep.

Harry's eyes opened wide when he heard the alcove door bang open and he saw a figure stride in. I jerked to a halt when it saw him.

"Why, Potter. So you're the lovely person who has been sharing my alcove. I must say I was expecting a more, shall we say, fashionable person? Perhaps someone with more intellect than you appear to have."

It was Malfoy. Harry felt his eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Why, Malfoy. Did I surprise you? I have to admit, I was expecting someone with more intelligence, too."

Malfoy snorted and moved to the other side of the room and flopped gracefully, as always, Harry noted, onto the cushions. Harry could see Malfoy looking at him.

"What?" Harry asked, quite flustered.

"I was just imagining, Potter –"

"Imagining what?" Harry interrupted.

"You do never let me finish, do you? What, do you feel a need to know every single fantasy of mine? Every single sordid detail of my existence? I wonder what your every fantasies are, Potter. I suggest an exchange. Your fantasies for mine." Malfoy raised his left eyebrow elegantly. "Or are you too much a coward?"

Harry blushed. "No, I'm not a coward, Malfoy. Let's hear yours first, though."

"I should have guessed. Potter, the ever present gentleman." Malfoy smirked." All right. My fantasy is –" He broke off.

Harry didn't say anything, waiting for Malfoy to finish.

"I wish that my Father--" Draco paused. He looked at Harry. "God, why am I telling you this? Perfect Potter, Saint Potter already has too many more important things to worry about than my petty problems and me. You must be disgusted." Draco looked away.

Harry was sure that Draco wanted to tell someone the truth. It would be good for Draco to get his innermost troubles off his chest. He got up and walked over to Draco, knelt down in front of him. Harry placed a hand on Draco's knee. He gently placed his hand on Draco's cheek and turned his face toward him. Harry's eyes met Draco's surprised and confused ones.

"Malfoy – don't ever think that because I'm Harry Potter I don't have time for you. I'll always listen to whatever problem anyone has and try to help them through it." Harry said softly, encouragingly.

Draco's eyes flashed with anger. Harry let his hand drop. "So you think I'm some sort of Charity Case? How many other people have you said that exact same thing to?" He angrily snarled.

"No, Malfoy! I…I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I do…worry about you. You'll never be just a "charity case" to me."

"That's bullshit, Potter. Why should you suddenly care about me?" Confusion was once again evident in Draco's eyes.

"Because…because--" Harry fumbled about for the right words.

"I thought so." A disgusted note crept into Draco's voice, and he started to get up.

"Malfoy--" Harry started.

Draco whirled around, his patience finally gone. "What? What does the fucking Golden Boy have to say to me now? Perhaps spout off a few well chosen quotes and think that I would grovel and spill out my innermost secrets and fears to you? Why, Potter? Why in bloody fucking hell are you tormenting me?" At the end of his tirade he was practically screaming, spittle flying out of his mouth, his face inches away from Harry's.

He stood there breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He was waiting for an answer, some sort of verbal response, but what he got was most unexpected.

Draco felt the soft lips give him a sweet butterfly kiss, chaste, undemanding. His eyes fluttered closed in a living reverie, a thrill like none he had ever felt before shot through his body. Draco's eyelids opened slowly after he felt the light pressure leave his lips. He found himself staring into a miasma of colors, found himself lost in the deep swirl of emerald and gold, wanted to stay there forever, fall into the others' embrace. But, as suddenly as he had fallen into a warm embrace, it was gone. And he found himself standing alone, in the now cold room that had once been so inviting. And he finally realized what it was like to be truly alone.

To feel perfect bliss and to lose it in the same instant. He fell down, utterly and completely lost, inviting the dark in once again. But, this time it couldn't fill the hole in his heart with blackness. It was a battle he could never win. Why would he want darkness, cold and unforgiving, when he had felt the light, warm and safe? So, for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy cried from his heart, a keen wailing of true despair, and in his mind he kept replaying the look of total and utter disgust that had come into Harry's green eyes before he had walked away.

Harry couldn't believe he had done that. He had just kissed Malfoy, right on the mouth.

As the realization of what had happened reached his mind, he leaned against one of the stone walls, and his back slid slowly down it as he stared straight ahead.

He had kissed Draco Malfoy, his enemy since the second time he had met him. The one who tormented him more than any other person in the world, maybe even more than Voldemort.

So?

If Malfoy was the one person in the world who could give him happiness, so be it. But Malfoy? Gods.

But Malfoy had just felt…right. His warm embrace kind and loving, his eyes filled with confusion, but also with…happiness?

Harry just couldn't deal with it right then. He trudged back to the Gryffindor Boy's Dorms, that agonizingly wonderful kiss with Malfoy still on his mind.

He fell asleep with visions of ice and fire, red and silver, intertwining with the wind whipping by and waves lapping on a jagged cliff.