Detentions

~~~~~

A brief dip into euphoria only makes reality worse.

According to Harry, Argus Filch is also a squib. I hope I never become as embittered as he is. But bitter or not, the man is still horrible. I think his perfect day would consist of finding a dozen students out of bed after hours and duelling in the astronomy tower, and then being allowed to dangle them from their hair inches beyond the reach of the squid in the lake. And, of course, discovering that his lack of magic was just because he's a very late beginner, and not a squib at all.

When I mention as such to Harry, he laughs so hard he almost knocks over his bucket of slugs. Filch dropped us off outside Hagrid's hut for our Saturday night detention, and after reading the misspelt instructions the giant left for us, we set out crawling through leaf litter in the forest looking for quinkin food.

"I suppose this could be worse," Harry says, plucking a beetle from his hair. "I mean, we could be scrubbing the Great Hall with toothbrushes or something."

"It wouldn't be so cold."

"True. Oh, hold still - " he holds up a finger and motions me to silence. I pause, wrist deep in mulch, and listen. I can't hear anything, but through the earth I feel something. A tremor, like a creature is galloping toward us. Harry grins and gets to his feet, shaking the mud off his hands. I follow suit, trying to work out what animal would make that vibration.

A shadow appears through the trees. It slowly moves forward to where there's more light, revealing a large black dog, its head out low and nose sniffing.

"Is that Snuffles?" I whisper.

The dog looks at me harshly, padding closer. Critically it sniffs my grimy palms, my second hand jeans.

"Yes," Harry nods, "Snuffles, this is Leila. Leila, Snuffles."

"Hello," I greet Harry's godfather. I could swear the dog frowns before turning to Harry and brushing against him. Then within moments the animagus is gone.

"He's off to see Dumbledore I guess." He almost goes to wipe his eyes, but then takes another look at his filthy hands.

"I think we've got enough slugs Harry."

"Uh, yes. Let's go in."

~~~~~

When we enter the Great Hall, McGonagall intercepts us on the way to Gryffindor tower.

"Mister Potter, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you."

"Yes Professor."

~~~~~

I don't find out until later that night what Dumbledore wanted with Harry. He appears in my room with an expression I've never seen him wear; outright fear.

Voldemort's army is massing. Harry tries to explain the details as he sits numbly beside me, but I can get little sense from him. The giants are on Dumbledore's side. The ministry members are slowly beginning to choose sides of their own. Some, like Fudge, are in denial of what is happening. Most are with Dumbledore and helping gain allies, sending overseas to other large wizarding communities for support.

Sirius is in the thick of things, still not pardoned, and staying in the country to run errands and messages for the headmaster.

Sirius is the reason Harry is told all this. Sirius puts himself in danger from muggles and wizarding folk from both sides of this war, and Harry can barely take it. He worries when Sirius is in the country and not in hiding, and just recently Sirius was almost caught by a Death eater after spying on a meeting.

Harry pauses in his narrative, bowing his head.

I whisper something meaningless and comforting, and then the dam breaks.

The Golden Boy leans on my shoulder and cries, silent tears that hurt me when I wipe them away.

He cannot let this out to anyone else. Hermione would try to reassure him and Ron would shy away from the tears. I just sit here and let him cry. He's done the same for me.

Over Harry's shoulder I see the door open the barest crack. A glint of platinum and silver, the door opens further. Draco stares at the sight of his nemesis broken down.

Hold him back shadow. Do not let him speak.

But he does not, only looks at his enemy with a rare emotion in his eyes.

My brother meets my gaze. And I am moved at the sorrow in him, the regret visible in the way he sags against the doorframe.

After a moment's pause Draco pulls back, slips away from my hidden room, and the Gryffindor who lets down all barriers because he thinks himself safe here.

I carefully remove Harry's glasses and let him lie down, curling around my pillow.

No one should have to live as he does. No fifteen-year-old boy should be burdened with the responsibility and pain he carries heaped upon his shoulders. Let it slide Harry. Sleep here, I'll guard you when you cannot guard yourself.

I sit beside him and hum quietly, remembering the lullaby that forged this bond.

I had no pride left to lose that night. Neither does he, now.

Pray shadow. Pray that Draco keeps another secret, pray that he keeps this one closer than all the others.

Harry breathes deep and even, asleep already.

I will not sleep tonight. I cannot.

~~~~~