Chapter 2: Because I Love Hermione, Love Harry
Harry walked in the cold damp night. He played back the actions made a while ago. That as he shut the door upon himself, he's bunged away from the life he's been used to in the past, incessantly running away from the tiniest of problems. He is Harry Potter, true enough, but what everyone doesn't know is that he runs away from his own feelings. He doesn't face them like he does Voldemort. Now, Harry's decided to deal with the inevitable. He's going to have to face his problems sooner or later, why not now?
He meandered off on his own, knowing the direction he was to go.
'To the Ministry. where else.'
He started thinking after a moment of dead thought. How was he to tell Hermione? Of course, Hermione. She had a knack for knowing things you were hiding from her. Cruel.
When did all this start? The problems just started to grow in the ground. It wasn't too visible, actually. One day they were a happy couple, then the both of them just. just acted strangely towards each other. He stomached the fact that even if they were happy at times, there was the underlying awkwardness materializing between them. The look Hermione gave him when he felt the awkward silence, he had seen before. Even before they got married. Well, sort of got married.
He continued to move as the icy wind blew on his face. He started to feel cold. Then numb. Then, as the cool wind coiled around his body, he felt the surge of blood rush in his body and he found himself falling onto the chilly rough ground.
---
Harry's fingers twitched as he felt the soft velvety material of. what seemed like a chair he was sitting on. He tried to open his heavy eyelids and was blinded by the sun's light coursing from the window. He tried to block the light away, covering his face with his hands, then suddenly, he saw a tall figure stand right in the direction of the light. He smelled black coffee.
'Ron.'
"Hey, Ron. *yawn* How'd I."
Yes, Ron Weasley. Been with him since high school. Now, both of them are Aurors and Trackers, now. Ron, being single and eligible. It had been five years since 7th grade.
"Well, Harry. I was taking a break from all the flying I was doing as I neared the Ministry. Then I saw a lump of Black and blue in the ground. Turned you over and saw you!", Ron said, taking a sip from his coffee mug.
He handed on to Harry, which Harry gratefully accepted. It was a bright morning, but still, it was chilly. The cold was coming in to the building even if most of the windows were closed.
He just then noticed that he was in the Ministry, in his desk. Trust Ron to bring you to the right place, no sarcasms here.
As his mind started wandering of to Hermione, Ron broke his thoughts and asked, "What've you been doing, Harry? You could've died there in the cold! If I hadn't seen you, I bet someone could've robbed you then, you know. You should pick the places where you doze of."
Harry sighed. Yes, he could've died. But could it have been better that way? He thought about it for a moment.
'Nah. Maybe not.'
Harry felt a nudge on his shoulder. He quickly turned over to find Ron gawking at him, eyes big as saucers.
"Harry. are you alright?"
He nodded. "Yes, I'm. quite fine. No need to worry." With this, Harry feigned a smile.
But Ron wasn't stupid. He saw right through Harry. Ron was aware of a little problem Harry has.
"Is this about the marriage contract? Told Mione yet?"
The Marriage contract. Harry found out about it before he came home. He found that the marriage contract issued to him and Hermione was a fake. They had to get a new one because right now, they're not officially married. This just made Harry's problems worse than they were. Thinking about, though, made it even worse.
"No, I haven't. I didn't have the chance to bring it up last night."
"Oh. All right. Maybe later? So. Have you watched the Quidditch game."
Ron continued his chatter about the Quidditch cup. France-Ireland game, 320- 270. Harry wished life could be as easy. Unfortunately, Quidditch wasn't life and life wasn't Quidditch.
-St. Mungo's, Sickbay-
The afternoon sun shown down on a blonde boy's face. His hair, disheveled from the long days, even weeks, of captivity with the death eaters. No one thought it possible. Lucius Malfoy's son? Captive of the Death Eaters? After Voldemort's downfall, a rumor spread like wildfire that Draco Malfoy was a supporter of the Order of the Phoenix, which in truth, he didn't. He supported neither Voldemort nor the Order.
So he lay there, pale, but still built. Almost a sad sight, but his face, almost angelic, stood out. That face didn't belong in the sickbay, much less in St. Mungo's.
Then, the stillness was broken as a lone figure entered the room. Walking slowly, quietly, he looked down on the blonde.
'Well, Malfoy, never thought a Weasley would visit you, eh?'
He turned to the door, retreated and called for.
"Harry, you can come in now. He's alright."
It was a normal occurrence for them to visit the people they've rescued, bringing with them flowers, food and the like. But Harry brought nothing then. After all, this IS Malfoy.
Harry approached the bed and saw Draco's face. He examined it carefully and was amazed that with the rough treatment he was most probably given during his incarceration with the Death Eaters, he was able to recover his face this fast. Then, he remembered the occurrences that afternoon.
Harry was in the Dark Bicorn Forest, watching as he found Death Eaters surrounding a. dead, limp body.
His presence was detected early though.
"A Tracker!"
"Argh! Get him!"
They began to raise their wands, point them at Harry and cast Unforgivables. Harry, though, being as quick as he is, apparated to the side of the body. He held it tightly and apparated to a safe distance. He knew the Ministry would be able to track them down, with Ron being not a half a mile away.
Just then, he heard a death eater say, "Avada-"
He roughly grabbed the boy's arm and held him closer than before. Just as soon as the last letter of the curse was said, he held the body closer to him and realized. That the body was still warm.
Harry's thoughts were broken as he felt the patient's bed stir, if only the slightest. His eyes fell down on the blonde, eyes fluttering open. The gray blue eyes were slightly blinded by the light, but recovered quickly and surveyed the room. He quickly recognized the presence of the ebony haired man by his side. The two locked eyes for a second, then Draco, cool and collected as he always was, broke the silence.
"Potter."
"Oh.. uhm."
"I owe you my life, right? So, how do I repay you?"
He said it so coolly that Harry didn't take it seriously at first.
"No, it's alright. It's my duty to."
He was cut short when Draco butt in. Really, that obnoxious guy just got back from Death Eater's Nest and he could actually talk like. like this?
"Well, there must be something that you need."
Harry thought about it. It wasn't a bad offer. He thought of things that he could ask from Malfoy, but found none except. Someone to talk to, perhaps?
'Oh, what am I thinking? Malfoy! That is Malfoy there!'
His own mouth betrayed him, though, when he opened his mouth to unexpectedly say, "Look Malfoy, I need advice."
That caught him off guard.
Harry didn't know why he had said it. That's got to be the stupidest thing he could've said at a time like that. An up and alive Malfoy's dangerous. A 'just-recovered-from-possible-death' Malfoy didn't make much difference.
"Never.nevermind what I just said, Malfoy. You should get some rest."
Harry waited and anticipated the laugh of mockery Malfoy could give him. It was the perfect opportunity for him to do so. Much to his surprise, though, Draco sat up from the bed, fixed his messy hair and looked over to him saying, "Alright. Let me help."
--- AN: Well that deteriorated terribly. So I can't help the slash urges! Hmm. I'd better stop myself. Anyway, I've already written the next chapter! :) But you'll have to r & r to get it! .well, maybe not, but still! Expect crush confessions, a slightly naughtier Malfoy and. well, that's about that. For chapter four, that'll be either Draco's 7th year or something about Hermione. Not sure yet. Anyway, Draco and Harry's friends here. Slash? Hmm. Maybe, maybe not.
ys
Harry walked in the cold damp night. He played back the actions made a while ago. That as he shut the door upon himself, he's bunged away from the life he's been used to in the past, incessantly running away from the tiniest of problems. He is Harry Potter, true enough, but what everyone doesn't know is that he runs away from his own feelings. He doesn't face them like he does Voldemort. Now, Harry's decided to deal with the inevitable. He's going to have to face his problems sooner or later, why not now?
He meandered off on his own, knowing the direction he was to go.
'To the Ministry. where else.'
He started thinking after a moment of dead thought. How was he to tell Hermione? Of course, Hermione. She had a knack for knowing things you were hiding from her. Cruel.
When did all this start? The problems just started to grow in the ground. It wasn't too visible, actually. One day they were a happy couple, then the both of them just. just acted strangely towards each other. He stomached the fact that even if they were happy at times, there was the underlying awkwardness materializing between them. The look Hermione gave him when he felt the awkward silence, he had seen before. Even before they got married. Well, sort of got married.
He continued to move as the icy wind blew on his face. He started to feel cold. Then numb. Then, as the cool wind coiled around his body, he felt the surge of blood rush in his body and he found himself falling onto the chilly rough ground.
---
Harry's fingers twitched as he felt the soft velvety material of. what seemed like a chair he was sitting on. He tried to open his heavy eyelids and was blinded by the sun's light coursing from the window. He tried to block the light away, covering his face with his hands, then suddenly, he saw a tall figure stand right in the direction of the light. He smelled black coffee.
'Ron.'
"Hey, Ron. *yawn* How'd I."
Yes, Ron Weasley. Been with him since high school. Now, both of them are Aurors and Trackers, now. Ron, being single and eligible. It had been five years since 7th grade.
"Well, Harry. I was taking a break from all the flying I was doing as I neared the Ministry. Then I saw a lump of Black and blue in the ground. Turned you over and saw you!", Ron said, taking a sip from his coffee mug.
He handed on to Harry, which Harry gratefully accepted. It was a bright morning, but still, it was chilly. The cold was coming in to the building even if most of the windows were closed.
He just then noticed that he was in the Ministry, in his desk. Trust Ron to bring you to the right place, no sarcasms here.
As his mind started wandering of to Hermione, Ron broke his thoughts and asked, "What've you been doing, Harry? You could've died there in the cold! If I hadn't seen you, I bet someone could've robbed you then, you know. You should pick the places where you doze of."
Harry sighed. Yes, he could've died. But could it have been better that way? He thought about it for a moment.
'Nah. Maybe not.'
Harry felt a nudge on his shoulder. He quickly turned over to find Ron gawking at him, eyes big as saucers.
"Harry. are you alright?"
He nodded. "Yes, I'm. quite fine. No need to worry." With this, Harry feigned a smile.
But Ron wasn't stupid. He saw right through Harry. Ron was aware of a little problem Harry has.
"Is this about the marriage contract? Told Mione yet?"
The Marriage contract. Harry found out about it before he came home. He found that the marriage contract issued to him and Hermione was a fake. They had to get a new one because right now, they're not officially married. This just made Harry's problems worse than they were. Thinking about, though, made it even worse.
"No, I haven't. I didn't have the chance to bring it up last night."
"Oh. All right. Maybe later? So. Have you watched the Quidditch game."
Ron continued his chatter about the Quidditch cup. France-Ireland game, 320- 270. Harry wished life could be as easy. Unfortunately, Quidditch wasn't life and life wasn't Quidditch.
-St. Mungo's, Sickbay-
The afternoon sun shown down on a blonde boy's face. His hair, disheveled from the long days, even weeks, of captivity with the death eaters. No one thought it possible. Lucius Malfoy's son? Captive of the Death Eaters? After Voldemort's downfall, a rumor spread like wildfire that Draco Malfoy was a supporter of the Order of the Phoenix, which in truth, he didn't. He supported neither Voldemort nor the Order.
So he lay there, pale, but still built. Almost a sad sight, but his face, almost angelic, stood out. That face didn't belong in the sickbay, much less in St. Mungo's.
Then, the stillness was broken as a lone figure entered the room. Walking slowly, quietly, he looked down on the blonde.
'Well, Malfoy, never thought a Weasley would visit you, eh?'
He turned to the door, retreated and called for.
"Harry, you can come in now. He's alright."
It was a normal occurrence for them to visit the people they've rescued, bringing with them flowers, food and the like. But Harry brought nothing then. After all, this IS Malfoy.
Harry approached the bed and saw Draco's face. He examined it carefully and was amazed that with the rough treatment he was most probably given during his incarceration with the Death Eaters, he was able to recover his face this fast. Then, he remembered the occurrences that afternoon.
Harry was in the Dark Bicorn Forest, watching as he found Death Eaters surrounding a. dead, limp body.
His presence was detected early though.
"A Tracker!"
"Argh! Get him!"
They began to raise their wands, point them at Harry and cast Unforgivables. Harry, though, being as quick as he is, apparated to the side of the body. He held it tightly and apparated to a safe distance. He knew the Ministry would be able to track them down, with Ron being not a half a mile away.
Just then, he heard a death eater say, "Avada-"
He roughly grabbed the boy's arm and held him closer than before. Just as soon as the last letter of the curse was said, he held the body closer to him and realized. That the body was still warm.
Harry's thoughts were broken as he felt the patient's bed stir, if only the slightest. His eyes fell down on the blonde, eyes fluttering open. The gray blue eyes were slightly blinded by the light, but recovered quickly and surveyed the room. He quickly recognized the presence of the ebony haired man by his side. The two locked eyes for a second, then Draco, cool and collected as he always was, broke the silence.
"Potter."
"Oh.. uhm."
"I owe you my life, right? So, how do I repay you?"
He said it so coolly that Harry didn't take it seriously at first.
"No, it's alright. It's my duty to."
He was cut short when Draco butt in. Really, that obnoxious guy just got back from Death Eater's Nest and he could actually talk like. like this?
"Well, there must be something that you need."
Harry thought about it. It wasn't a bad offer. He thought of things that he could ask from Malfoy, but found none except. Someone to talk to, perhaps?
'Oh, what am I thinking? Malfoy! That is Malfoy there!'
His own mouth betrayed him, though, when he opened his mouth to unexpectedly say, "Look Malfoy, I need advice."
That caught him off guard.
Harry didn't know why he had said it. That's got to be the stupidest thing he could've said at a time like that. An up and alive Malfoy's dangerous. A 'just-recovered-from-possible-death' Malfoy didn't make much difference.
"Never.nevermind what I just said, Malfoy. You should get some rest."
Harry waited and anticipated the laugh of mockery Malfoy could give him. It was the perfect opportunity for him to do so. Much to his surprise, though, Draco sat up from the bed, fixed his messy hair and looked over to him saying, "Alright. Let me help."
--- AN: Well that deteriorated terribly. So I can't help the slash urges! Hmm. I'd better stop myself. Anyway, I've already written the next chapter! :) But you'll have to r & r to get it! .well, maybe not, but still! Expect crush confessions, a slightly naughtier Malfoy and. well, that's about that. For chapter four, that'll be either Draco's 7th year or something about Hermione. Not sure yet. Anyway, Draco and Harry's friends here. Slash? Hmm. Maybe, maybe not.
ys
