Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:
Author's Notes: Eh. There's some Harry in this chapter. Things start coming together. Oh, and I took the liberty of making wizarding sketches like wizarding photos. After all, portraits move, don't they? And thanks to Angel Spit for catching a mistake for me! That's what I get for writing when I'm half asleep. *Thumps head* Anyway, read on.
Warnings for this chapter: Some swearing, some angst in the beginning.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.
Draco sighed, flipping through the sketch book Crabbe had given him for Christmas languidly. He scanned them carefully, taking it all in. A dragon, a Quidditch game, a girl and her puffskein, a phoenix, a unicorn, one of the Ravenclaw prefects playing chess with a Slytherin; both intensely focused on the task at hand, the Gray Lady, Snape bent over his cauldron… there were all sorts of sketches, each more detailed than the last. He flipped past a boy and his owl and paused before turning back to the page.
It was Harry, standing out in the courtyard with his Snowy Owl perched on his arm and grinning like an loon. But a handsome loon. His robes were a stark black that stood out against the snow and his owl's feathers. Draco had seen the owl before in the Owlry while visiting Grindylow and had even scratched at that little feathered tuft above her beak, because Snowy Owls were often used as mail delivery birds and it was hard to miss a speck of white among dull brown birds. The owl launched itself off of Harry's arm in the sketch and Harry raised his face to watch her fly, snowflakes drifting down onto that wild mop of black hair. Then she dived back down and took her place on his arm once more, only for the cycle to repeat itself.
Draco let his fingertips skim the grinning face etched onto the parchment for a moment, staring at the picture and feeling oddly… bereft. The melancholy made a lump rise in his throat and he shut his eyes, willing back the tears that inexplicably came to his eyes. Merlin, he was weak.
Then the sound of grinding stones brought him out of his reverie and he shut the sketch book quickly, stuffing it under a couch cushion. He quickly brought his knees up and hid his face in them, wrapping his arms around his legs and wishing Pansy would just go the hell away. She'd been dropping by constantly for the last two weeks, plying him with sweets and sympathy while Harry ignored him. Granted, Draco had asked him to, but he wasn't supposed to actually listen!
"Draco?"
And great, now he was hearing his voice. Wait a second… Draco's head shot up. Harry was hovering in the door way uncertainly, looking at him in a concerned manner. "Harry?" The Slytherin asked incredulously. "How'd you get in?"
"Er. Pansy said the password in front of me last time, remember? It's still Parseltongue so it wasn't that hard. That's not important though. Are you okay?"
Draco was touched at the sudden show of concern, but managed to keep his appreciation off his face. "I'm fine. What are you doing down here? Finally ready to tell me what's going on?"
"Yes. Well, that and to ask you a favor." Harry was surprisingly serious and his green eyes were darker than usual. His expression was somber and it made Draco sit upright.
"Is something wrong?"
"You could say that." The Gryffindor said wryly. Harry took a seat next to him, resting his elbows on his knees and turning his head to look at Draco. "Look. I really am sorry about the way I've been neglecting you. I know I hurt your feelings and I never meant to do that."
"You didn't hurt my feelings. You annoyed me!" Draco snapped reflexively. The Boy Who Lived gave him a level, disbelieving look, but let him get away with the denial.
"I'm sorry I annoyed you then. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?" Harry asked, his patience obviously wearing thin.
"Sorry. Go on."
Harry ran a hand through his tousled hair. It was sticking up in the back and the way he raked his fingers through it only made it worse. "Okay. You know how you were talking about Salazar Slytherin Christmas Eve? About how he tried to make himself into a sort of wand, but it didn't work?"
"Yes." Draco said cautiously, wondering where this was going.
"Did you hear about how the Glastonbury Tor was ransacked?" Draco felt anxiety bubble up inside him as he began to connect the dots.
"Of course I did. And?" He knew there was more.
There was. "Voldemort stole the remains of Salazar Slytherin. Apparently, they're charged with power. For the past few months he's been preparing to do the same thing Slytherin did, but this time he has Slytherin's skull to help him. Draco, he might actually manage it." Harry's voice was low and urgent, making the hair on the back of Draco's neck prickle.
"Fuck me sideways." Draco exclaimed darkly. "We're dead. We're all very, very dead."
"Nice to know you're so optimistic." Harry smirked, leaning back.
Draco turned to stare at him with wide eyes. "Are you insane? This isn't a laughing matter. You're number one on his hit list. He's going to kill you, Harry! Fuck! Is Dumbledore sending you away? Is that why you've been so busy? Were you researching wards and secrecy spells?"
"No. We had to work out what Voldemort was doing in the first place and how to stop him. I have to get Slytherin's skull away from him so Dumbledore can negate its magic. If I don't, there's no telling how powerful he'll become."
"You-?!" Draco was shocked speechless. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" He finally exploded, gesturing wildly with his hands. "You're going to get your foolish, idiotically brave self killed, Potter! Then you'll be dead. As in worm food!"
Harry was not impressed. "Not if I can get the skull back. He's going to try to kill me no matter what, but once he's made himself a focus I'm dead for sure. It's my only chance, Draco."
The Slytherin slumped back in his seat, suddenly tired. Draco knew with certainty he couldn't simply sit by and let Harry die. Against all common sense and Slytherin instincts, he'd have to help the other boy whether he liked it or not. He massaged the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "What can I do to help you?" He finally asked in a weary voice.
Harry smiled at brightly, his eyes warm with affection. "I knew you'd help."
"Yeah, well. Don't let it get to your head." He said grumpily, tilting his own head so the golden-white strands of hair falling in his face weren't quite so annoying. "Hmph."
"You're so cute when you're pouting." Harry teased.
"I'm cute no matter what I'm doing." Draco corrected, his lips twitching the tiniest bit. "But, my incredible powers of attraction aren't the subject at hand. How are we getting the skull back?"
Harry chewed on his lip for a moment and then locked eyes with Draco. "Your father has it."
"Oh. Oh no. Don't even look at me like that. Do you know how well protected the Manor is? It'll be suicide, Harry."
"Oh well then. I guess I'll just have to go by myself." Harry said unconcernedly.
"I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work." Draco told him, his chin tilted up in that stubborn way of his. "The Manor's practically Unplottable. Unless you've been there before, I'm afraid you won't find it."
Harry shrugged broad shoulders and leaned back, still looking determined. "Dobby will take me."
"And then what? He'll probably lead you right over a trap door. The House elves have their own way of getting around the Manor that you won't be able to take and Dobby doesn't know any other way. Not to mention, you don't know where the skull is."
"It's probably in the secret chamber under the drawing room floor."
Draco was stunned. "How the hell do you know about that?!"
"I eavesdropped on a conversation you had with Crabbe an Goyle when we were younger." Despite the plausibility of that, Harry still looked a bit shifty. Before Draco could question him, the Gryffinro continued speaking hurriedly. "But that's not important. I'm going no matter what you say, Draco. Think about it. If you go with me, you can make sure I don't get myself killed."
"Just for the record, I am very much against this. Very much. And when we die a horrible bloody death I will say I told you so."
"So we're going by broomstick?"
"Yes." Draco agreed, exasperated. Harry just flashed him a sunny smile.
To be Continued
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