The Nature Of A Man
Disclaimer: The usual. The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling and this work represents a poor fumbling attempt at a Harry Potter story. I really wasn't sure where the story was going but it's rated PG-13 just in case. Read and review. You like it or you don't, just drop me a line at jadewing@hotmail.com if you want to rant or praise longer. Thanks to everyone for reviewing. Sorry, guys and gals, but I refrained from adding too much into the more, ah, intimate scenes since if I did, it'd become porn. And I'm not that good at writing that stuff (yeah, deceive yourself – go on!). I'm so happy that everyone likes the chapters but like I said, I just get more afraid that I'll come up with a stinker one of these days and that's the end of it all! Anyway, just read on and thanks for all the support!
It was a relief to Harry when Hermione led Ron away. After weeping in Hermione's arms for what seemed like hours, and Ron watching both of them, a little embarrassed, a little ashamed and, yes, a little jealous, the couple had taken him up to the dorm and asked him to just lie quietly. He desperately wanted to run after Draco, to explain everything to him – but how to explain just how much of a rat he had been to the Slytherin? Slytherins are supposed to be the bad guys, Harry thought bitterly to himself, and I'm being more of a bastard than all the Slytherins combined. Hermione had cautioned him to give Draco some time and Ron had muttered a quick apology but neither of them had known the true extent of the relationship. How do I tell them that Draco and I have been necking each other? And that last night, we had a right royal romp in the bedroom? They had already given him weird looks but they didn't say anything. Another thing that Harry was thankful for.
Close to noon, Harry decided to do the one thing his heart had been telling him to do the whole morning. Look for Draco. He stood up, pulling out his wand and then cast the Seeking Spell. He whispered "Draco" as the spell took effect and his wand, floating horizontally over his palm began rotating slowly until it stopped, pointing in one direction. He grasped it, feeling its pull as it led him towards the one person he wanted to see now. The one person who he needed to see. It led him past the Slytherin common room and then past the Great Hall and towards one of the old abandoned towers. Once or twice, he had to duck behind a tapestry or a statue at the sight of one of the teachers whose class he should have been attending. Once he passed by Professor McGonagall who had a defeated look to her. Her hair was very much a mess and her eyes were red, as if she had not slept for several nights. But her back was still straight and, her mouth was fixed into a grim line, as if she was contemplating the various ways she would skin the perpetrator of the Situation. It was good to see that she hadn't really given up after all. I have to find out if Draco is the one, Harry thought. I have to. Regardless of the cost.
He stopped before a large battered iron door that was slightly ajar. Harry pushed the door open hesitantly, surprised at how easily it swung open. Up he went, up a winding stone stairway. He was in one of the towers; he could tell from the gaps and chinks in the walls. The stairway wound up and up until he had to stop, fighting off the dizziness that overwhelmed him. Then, another large iron door. This one looked new though and it was shut tightly. Harry pushed against it but it refused to budge. He whipped out his wand and narrowed his eyes. He was about to perform the Reductor Spell to blast the door away when it swung open by itself. Evidently, even the doors in Hogwarts had a sense of self-preservation. He went through. He was on the roof of the tower, a large open courtyard. Under a dark and foreboding sky, a lonely robed figure waited. At Harry's footsteps, the figure turned. Harry gasped. For a moment, it felt like his old dream with Draco turning to regard him. He would ask that question … and Harry would fail again. Again. But Draco didn't do anything like that. His mouth twisted into a snarl and he turned away. And somewhere deep inside himself, Harry felt a sharp ache. Why does this hurt so much? Why?
"Draco …" His words were lost in the emptiness of Draco's stare.
"Don't ever call me that. Not again. Not ever." The blonde boy's words were filled with pain and he choked as he spat them out. "I'm Malfoy to you, Potter. I've always been Malfoy and I always will be."
Harry narrowed the distance between them until he stood within touching distance. It was a good sign, he felt, that Draco didn't move away.
"I'm sorry, Draco. I know …" Harry scrubbed his fingers through his hair, trying to find the words to whatever he wanted … needed to say. "I'm a bastard, all right … I …"
"Maybe it was always meant to be." Harry fell silent. "I've been thinking about that question a lot. The nature of a man." Draco's voice was low and soft, as if he was reflecting on some lost memory. "What can change our nature? Or are we all stuck as what we are? Are we beyond redemption? Are we beyond saving?" Harry took a step forward but froze as Draco turned angry eyes at him. "Don't take one step closer, Potter, or I'll do something we'll both regret." He let out a low laugh. "Even now I can't stop caring for you. About you. You see, I thought that if you loved me enough and if I loved you enough, we could work everything out. We could change everything – I could change myself. I could change who I am … what I am." Draco shook his head. "But love isn't enough. At least, my love isn't enough. So, I failed. Again."
Harry closed his eyes. This hurt. It hurt so much! "Draco, please, just listen."
"I'm done listening, Potter. It's over. It's all over." Draco looked at him. "I owe you just one last thing, Potter. For trying to comfort me, for giving me yourself, I can tell you who's responsible for the Situation."
Harry opened his eyes. He could know who was responsible, he could help the teachers. But … on one hand, he would have a solution for the teachers, a way to aid them; on the other, he would have lost … Draco. "I … I … Tell me." He lowered his eyes.
Draco's voice was scornful. "So, I thought perhaps …" He laughed again sardonically, laughed at himself. "A fool I am then. Very well. The one responsible is –"
"Me."
Harry looked up. A tall dark-haired boy stood at the doorway. His hair was cut neatly and brushed back stylishly. Cool blue eyes regarded the both of them across the distance. His mouth twisted into a sneer and he waved his wand at the door. "Olahomora." There was loud click as the door locked. He began walking unhurriedly towards them, stopping a few feet away. Harry had retreated until his back pressed against the edge of the low stone wall that served as a railing for the roof. He could feel a warmth next to him. Draco.
"Ian," Draco hissed.
The other boy smiled. "Ian Borgin, at your service." He smirked at them. "I don't think Harry Potter knows me though."
"He's the one who's behind all this," Draco hissed to Harry.
Harry looked at Ian who laughed. "Very dramatic, Draco, but thank you for pointing it out anyway." He wiped the smile off his face. "You betrayed our Dark Lord, Draco. You consorted with his greatest enemy and now, I find out that you're about to turn me in." He tsked loudly. "Really, Draco, what would your father say? Oh, wait. Perhaps your father put you up to this then. The Dark Lord isn't too happy with your father at any rate."
"My father has nothing to do with this!" Draco spat. "I did it! I decided to tell, all right?"
Harry looked at Ian speculatively, and reached for his wand … but there was a loud cry of "Expelliarmus" and his wand shot from his hand and into Ian's. "Tricky, Potter, but I'd rather have a nice chat with Draco first." His eyes turned back towards Draco. "Speak. Why did you decide to turn traitor?"
"Because … because …" Draco's eyes darted towards Harry. Harry looked at him solemnly.
Ian laughed. Nastily. "I don't believe it! I can see the way you're looking at him, Draco! You've fallen in love with Harry Potter!" He laughed again and Draco flushed. "What has Potter got that's gotten you so smitten with him?" He looked Harry over and Harry blushed at his stare. "Well, maybe I can see why … but, Draco, Draco, Draco. Our Dark Lord will not be pleased. But first things first. Death to the enemy." Ian's eyes seemed to flare with a sullen crimson radiance and he advanced on Harry. Harry could see his death in those eyes. Without his wand, he could do nothing! And then Ian spoke a Word, a single word and a blast of something leaped from his wand towards Harry. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to strike. Perhaps he deserved it after all … but then, something heavy crashed into him. There was a cry, a smell of burnt hair and then Harry was sailing through the air. He landed painfully on the ground, rolling to a stop and he opened his eyes. He hurt … everywhere! He looked down, a little shaken … there wasn't any blood but who had …? Who had pushed him away? And then he saw. A few feet away was a prone figure, limbs twisted in agony, robes smoking. Draco.