Title: Clear
Chapter 15: Home
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R for slash themes
**WARNING**: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH THEMES – WHICH MEANS HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN TWO MALE CHARACTERS. YOU ARE ADVISED TO LEAVE IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS.
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story do not belong to me, but to the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling. This is all FICTION; none of it is true. No profit was made from this story. I bear no responsibility for anything you may claim from this story, you have been warned.
LAST WARNING. SLASH. HOMOSEXUALITY. LEAVE IF YOU DON'T LIKE.
Plagiarism is a crime. But I'm sure you know that already.
***
Fourteenth of December.
Exactly a week until end of term.
Between the fight last month and now, Harry had been cornered by Crabbe and Goyle, the next day after the "Incident", as they called it, and had been told using no uncertain terms that they would literally beat him to a pulp if anything else happened to Draco and that counted being yelled at by Ron. Ginny and Seamus had come out as a couple and in the Great Hall, when this became public knowledge, Harry had seen a sudden light in Draco's eyes, as if a previous matter was now gone. Hermione had broken up with Justin two days ago, and Ron was still mad at the world.
Meanwhile, the Earth had continued to spin, the Moon had continued to wax and wan, the Sun had continued to rise easterly and set in the west, and the Universe had continued to expand.
Harry, however, had begun to feel the strain on Draco's and his relationship. Draco was turning away from him, pushing him away, and when Harry had gone to Crabbe and Goyle, worried, they had given each other looks that spoke of secrets, and told Harry to try his best to be patient with Draco.
So he had tried. But it had been hard. Many, many times he almost lost patience, but then he remembered it was Draco – Draco who cried, Draco who smirked, Draco who could make his most biting words sound like loving caresses towards him. Draco, who he loved.
And so he had kept trying.
But now he failed.
Only a week to go, but he couldn't do it.
And at the moment of his failure, the Earth, Moon, Sun, and Universe froze in anticipation of what was to come.
***
"Please," Harry whispered.
"Why?" Draco refused to face him. He was staring out the window, looking up at the moon.
"Please," Harry whispered again, a hand reaching out to him.
"How?"
"Please," he whispered.
"Can't."
Harry felt tears fill his eyes and he blinked, trying to stop them from falling. It didn't work. "Please."
"Never again." Draco turned around, but his eyes never looked at Harry. He made a move for the door, but Harry moved to block his path.
"Look at me, Draco, please. Please." Harry dared not touch him.
Draco still refused to look at him. "No."
And he sidestepped Harry and left and the last thing Harry saw was the swirls of Draco's cloak disappearing around the heavy oak door.
Harry wept, tears falling silently onto the stone floor.
***
Narcissa looked around the Leaky Cauldron. Sitting down at the bar, a sudden figure stepped out of the shadows and knocked into her shoulder roughly.
"Oh, my apologies, madam." Black coal eyes looked into hers.
"Quite alright, sir." She turned back to face the bar.
And unfolded the note under the table.
She called the bartender. "Tom, a glass of Bumble sherry for me, please."
The man with the black coal eyes watched the bartender hand her a bright purple drink, and he slipped out of the pub, answer given to his question, and information crumpled in a ball of parchment inside the curl of his fist.
***
Harry stared at Draco for the whole of Potions. If Draco felt the stares, he took no note of it.
Harry's stares cost Gryffindor a total of twenty five points, but it was well worth every point lost.
Draco ignored him, and the notes that Harry tossed him were thrown into the fire beneath his cauldron, unopened.
***
Dumbledore paled, the twinkle in his eyes gone. "Oh dear," he said. "Severus – are you sure?"
"Quite sure, Headmaster. You know who my contact is, after all."
"Yes, yes, but to think that…this is even lower what I thought Voldemort was capable of. And Lucius. My dear Severus, Draco is his own son, surely he would…?"
"I don't think so, Headmaster. You remember the business with Charisse Malfoy, don't you?"
"Yes, yes. Murdered by the Death Eaters for keeping Muggle-borns as refugees. Hid them within the Manor, right under Lucius' nose."
Snape twitched. "Sir, there was something I didn't…exactly…tell you back then. Charisse Malfoy…her murderer was…Lucius."
"Her own son?" Dumbledore's face was grave with worry and lined in shock.
Snape nodded. "Yes, sir. And knowing the Death Eaters, it wouldn't have been a clean death. Especially since it was Lucius' own mother. And the eyes of the Lord were on him, because he was appointed to kill her. So Draco…"
"Oh dear," Dumbledore said again. "This is indeed much, much worse than what we had thought at first. Well then, let us hope our plan succeeds, and that young Mr. Malfoy would be spared from…" He had no wish to finish the sentence, only sighed, and Snape nodded in agreement.
"Yes."
***
Harry tried to see if Draco looked at him – ever – in any of his other classes.
He didn't.
Harry spent those classes staring at his parchment, quill held tightly in his hand, trying not to cry.
***
Wild, frantic music exploded from Draco's room as he played, bow flying across strings and fingers a blur, oblivious to the world around him. He couldn't stop playing. He couldn't. Never. No. Never part with his violin.
Never.
Crabbe and Goyle were at his door inside the Slytherin dungeons, ears pressed against the wood.
They exchanged a Look.
"He's playing the Devil's Trill."
"I know."
"Not good."
"I know."
***
"It's your bloody fault," Hermione said, crossly. "All your bloody fault."
Harry hung his head. "I know."
"Then don't come to me for condolences. I can't believe you of all people would – Don't ask me to take sides, Harry, because you're my best friend and I love you to bits, but there's no way I will side with you for this."
"I know."
***
Draco was sitting calmly in front of the Slytherin fire.
Too calmly.
A letter was burning among the firewood, and Crabbe nudged Goyle as they sat down on either side of him. They each took one of his hands and held it tightly, trying to thaw the chill and stop the shaking.
"Hey, Draco."
"Heh," was the answer.
"What is it, Draco? What's wrong?"
"It wants to fuck me."
They exchanged a confused look. "What? Who?"
"You know."
"Who? What?"
Draco smirked, tilting his head down until he looked alarmingly feral.
"You know."
And Crabbe and Goyle shivered as a strange breeze blew past and dimmed the fire until it was mere glowing embers.
***
"That's great then!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't mind Hermione, she doesn't know what she's talking about. You finally got rid of that bloody git. Sickening bastard."
Harry felt his shattered heart being ground to powder. "Yes." I am. A sickening bastard. Sickening. Bastard. Yes.
"Come on, let's celebrate. I'll treat you to a butterbeer. Or two. Or hell, three, since it's cold out."
Harry nodded, numb. "Sure. That'd be great."
Ron slung an arm around his shoulders. "In fact, I'll treat Justin, too."
Harry almost spat out his guts. "No, Ron. Let's…catch up. Just the two of us."
Ron nodded. "Sure. Come on."
***
Crabbe cracked his knuckles. "Why can't we beat him up, Draco?"
"Because. It'll seem as if I was hurt by whatever he did. I am not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me."
"But Draco…"
"No, Goyle."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Crabbe."
***
Crabbe and Goyle glared at him non-stop. They were now situated permanently on either side of Draco, and their figures were even more menacing than before because their eyes now had a gleam in it that was truly frightening. Draco was always between the two of them, a delicate flower needing protection.
Harry dared not speak to them, and his eyes darted away quickly whenever Crabbe or Goyle noticed him even looking in Draco's direction.
Harry would hang his head then, because it was all his fault.
***
A snowy owl dropped a letter next to Draco's dinner.
"Who is it from?"
Draco scowled. "Potter."
It was just a short note, too short to even be rolled up or folded.
You will have to tell me you don't love me to my face before I will believe you. ~ HP
Draco laughed harshly. To ask such a foolish thing of a Malfoy? They can say or do whatever they want, regardless of their true emotions. Pity Potter hadn't figured it out yet.
Draco looked across at the Gryffindor table, and Potter was staring at him plaintively. He clearly hadn't slept well for the past two nights.
Or maybe he was just…kept up, Draco thought, glare narrowing his eyes. He stood up and stalked out of the Great Hall, ripping the note to shreds and dropping the bits carelessly to the floor. He knew Potter would follow.
"Draco." Potter was gazing at him tentatively. They fell to his neck, and widened imperceptibly when they saw the absence of Draco's silver ring. The silver ring – always worn around Draco's neck – a symbol of his love for him. Draco never wore it on his finger, for fear of rumours – and now it was gone. "Draco," he said again, but this time his voice was tight, biting back tears.
Draco just stared at him.
"Draco, you never gave me a chance to explain. It never was – I never meant it to – I didn't mean – you couldn't – you didn't…"
"Spit it out, Potter."
Potter reeled back as if slapped. Tears filled his wide green eyes, and Draco's heart clenched tighter and his foul mood turned fouler as he steeled his nerves. He was tired of being the weak one – the one to be protected by the famous hero Harry Potter while he cried like a girl in the dark.
"I just. You got my note. You read it."
"Of course. I know what you want from me. You feel so guilty, don't you?" Draco sneered. "The precious Saint Potter has done a bad thing – a sin, even. But of course, it wouldn't be a bad thing if I say I don't care for you anymore, would it? Then you would be free to be with that horrid Mudblood of yours, and you won't have to worry about me anymore because it will be me who dumped you, n'est ce pas?!" He almost shrieked the last words out, unable to hold back his mother tongue.
Draco stopped, breathed, and waited.
A single tear flowed down Potter's cheek. "No, Draco, no, no, it's not like that. It's not like that at all!" He stepped closer, and Draco stepped back, pulling his cloak tight around him as his touch burned.
"Get away, Potter!"
Potter shook his head wildly, tears flowing freely now. "No, no, Draco, please. Please."
Draco just stood, glaring, unmoving.
Potter stretched out a hand towards him. "Please, Draco. Don't do this."
"You wanted me to. You asked it of me yourself."
"That's not what I meant, Draco!" He clenched his hands into fists.
"Then what did you mean?"
"I – I just – if you were willing to give this up – give us up – then I have to hear it from you before I am willing to do the same!"
"Why wouldn't I be willing to give you up, Potter? You're the one fucking around on me – why wouldn't I give you up? And for your information, you have given us up. You're not willing, you already have."
Potter's arms fell to his side listlessly. "No, Draco. No. No, no. If you love me, Draco, please. If you love me, you'd give me another chance. You'd be able to accept what I did for a mistake."
"No, Potter, it was not a mistake. I saw it for myself, you know, and it was not a mistake. So you know what, Potter?" Draco's tone was light and his step easy as he glided towards him. "I'll grant you what you want – what you asked of me personally."
Potter looked up at him, eyes bright with tears that wouldn't stop falling. "No," he whimpered, shaking his head ever so slightly, eyes never leaving Draco's. "No, Draco. No. No. No. Nonononononono…"
Draco held his gaze steadily until he was barely two inches away and could feel the breath of Potter's whimpers on his lips. He enunciated each word clearly, slowly, as they rolled off his tongue and pierced his own heart.
"I don't love you."
Potter's eyes were wide, features still in shock, mouth slightly open as he breathed heavily, gasping in air.
And then Draco whirled and stalked down the corridor towards his room. He didn't feel much like dinner anymore.
When he had taken maybe ten steps, Potter seemed to fall out of his stupor and shouted after him, "Draco! Draco, I don't believe you! You don't, you don't! You still love me, I know you do, you do, you do, you DO!!!"
Draco didn't look back, but he knew Harry had fallen to his knees, sobbing into his hands, his cries echoing down the corridor towards Draco's ears.
Draco didn't dare look back.
---
That night, Draco cried silently, alone in his cold bed as Crabbe and Goyle banged on his door and pleaded to be let in. "Go away!" he would scream at them, throwing something at the door. "Go away!" And then he would fall back onto his bed and try to suffocate himself with his tears.
And that night, Harry sobbed into Hermione's arms as she petted his head and tried to soothe him and his tears. He mumbled over and over, "He took his ring off, Hermione, he took his ring off! He never took it off, never, and now he – he – " and then he would choke and sob some more before bawling the same sentence over and over again.
Hermione fought to bite back her reprimands as she whispered comforting words and made comforting noises and patted and stroked him comfortingly. It was, after all, his own bloody fault in the first place.
***
Eighteenth of December.
Two days until end of term.
Dumbledore called Harry into his office.
"It appears, Harry, that you and Mr. Malfoy are now back to your previous…disagreements?"
"No, sir."
Dumbledore must have seen something in Harry's eyes because he motioned for Harry to sit down. "What do you mean, Harry?"
Harry fidgeted just the slightest, unable to look the Headmaster in the eye. "I did something terrible to Draco, sir."
"Ah, but you were so good to him at the beginning, when all the trouble about his future began. You've been very good to him all the while, Harry, with your extra training and the knowledge of the risk. I'm proud of you."
Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I'm not proud of what I did. I don't think there's much to be proud of – after all, all the hard work means nothing if it doesn't secure his freedom and, therefore, his happiness. I'm not proud of myself, sir, because three nights ago, I undid all the good I had done, and I have harmed him instead."
"What do you mean, Harry?" Dumbledore asked slowly.
Harry flushed with shame. "I. I. I almost ended up, um…with…with," he stuttered, trying to find an appropriate word, "Justin Finch-Fletchley. And. Draco came, and he saw," he finished miserably.
Dumbledore's smile disappeared. "Ah," he said. "Harry, I must say, that type of behaviour seems most unlike you. Especially compared to the times I saw you and Mr. Malfoy together – the bond between you two was something special. Ah well," he said, stroking his beard, and Harry's heart fell at Dumbledore's use of the past tense.
"I know, sir," said Harry unhappily.
"Wasn't Mr. Finch-Fletchley involved with Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore mused.
"No. They broke it off before I. I." He couldn't seem to finish his sentence.
"I see. Then am I correct to assume that Ms. Granger has no particular feelings towards recent events?"
Harry nodded. "Well, she's really angry at me for doing such a thing to Draco, she's become rather protective of him, and she told me before that she was uncomfortable with Justin wanting to be so close to me, but that her boyfriend trying to get along with her best friend isn't really supposed to be a cause for suspicion. She was the one that broke it off, sir."
"Ah." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
They sat for a while, each mulling over the conversation.
And then Dumbledore spoke again. "Harry, do you think it would be a good idea for you to proceed with our earlier plans for Christmas? I could call it all off, and we this will buy us some time to further prepare you."
Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I still want to do it. I need to save Draco, if only to make it up to him."
Now it was Dumbledore who shook his head. "Harry, I don't want you to do this out of guilt. It will do harm to you, Professor Snape, and all the members of the Order I have asked to help you. I'm afraid I have to cancel the arrangement."
"Sir, please, don't cancel."
"I'm afraid I have to, Harry. Like I said, I don't want you to do this out of guilt. The mission will very likely kill you if you are burdened by such negative emotions."
"Professor – I want to do it. Please. And if you stop me – if you cancel the plan, then I'll do it myself. You know I will – and no one will be able to stop me – because – because – " tears filled Harry's eyes. "Because I do love Draco, sir, and I never want to see him unhappy and now he is because of me and he will be unhappy forever if he gets the Dark Mark and I don't care how angry he is at me, I'm not about to let him suffer even if – even if he does become a spy like Professor Snape."
Harry's head was bowed, and his fists were clenched tight in his lap, his entire frame tense and nervous, waiting for Dumbledore's judgement.
After a short pause that lasted for infinity, Dumbledore spoke. "Very well," he said, and Harry let out a breath of air. "However." And Harry's chest tightened again. "However, Harry, Mr. Malfoy may have an opinion of his own. I must do my best to accommodate both of you to the mission – for it really is an ideal time to attack – Voldemort will have no idea…we are usually so passive."
Harry nodded. "I'm going no matter what anyone says, sir. Even if Draco doesn't want me there – I will be."
***
A serpentine tongue flickered out to lick at non-existent lips. Red slits that served as eyes glowed in delight. "Lucius," it hissed. "Your son is…ravishing."
Lucius' head was bowed, but he somehow still managed to nod. "Thank you, Master. We have raised him in hopes that you will find him satisfactory when the time comes."
"Satisfactory…yes, indeed. Why, Lucius, he's even better than…you." It spoke with great glee, as if hoping to provoke an adverse reaction.
"Thank you, Master."
"But then, of course, you have aged. You are now a father. A father to a most…*delicious* boy. I believe you were just as…exquisite when you were seventeen, but alas, you were already married when you came to me."
Lucius fell to his knees, and kissed the robe hem of the vile creature he called Master. "Master, my humblest apologies. If I had known you would take pleasure from me, I would not have married so soon."
Liar. He knew exactly what was wanted of him. And now, of his son.
"I am giving you a chance, Lucius, to make up for your most unpardonable offence. Your son, Lucius…?" The snake-like tongue flicked out again hungrily.
Lucius nodded wildly. "Of course, my Lord, anything, anything! Draco is not to marry until the New Year, and you will be able to have him on the night of his seventeenth birthday, my Lord, just as you like it, any way you want!"
"Excellent. Most excellent."
***
"No!"
"Mr. Malfoy, do think of the circumstances, the causes and effects, the entire situation at hand," said Dumbledore mildly.
"No!" Draco stood up from his seat and began to pace. "Excuse my lack of decorum, Headmaster, but I refuse – I simply refuse to be rescued like some helpless dame, and by Harry Potter of all people." He spat the name out more venomously than ever before.
"Mr. Malfoy," began Dumbledore.
Draco spun to face him, silver eyes meeting twinkling blue. "I would rather die."
Dumbledore smiled. "We all die eventually, Mr. Malfoy. Or perhaps you are willing to meet with a fate worse than death?"
"I would rather be a Death Eater than have to rely on Harry Potter to save me." Draco resumed his pacing, a frown creasing his brow.
"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Interesting."
Draco stopped, and sat down again. "What's so interesting?"
Dumbledore's smile turned secret. "Oh, nothing much."
Draco just stared.
"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy – what happened between you and Harry for you to have such adverse feelings towards him now? I seem to recall my last meeting with you two – last Friday, when we had hot chocolate and sugar cookies and discussed some details…ah, those were good sugar cookies…" Dumbledore began to drift, but then returned to the present. "You two appeared extremely close then."
"That was then, Professor. This is now. And what is to come is determined by what happened in the past, is it not? And what happened in the past few days, sir, severed any sort of ties Potter and I could possibly have had and will ever have."
"Do you care to elaborate, Mr. Malfoy?"
A cloud shaded those famous Malfoy eyes. "Not really, sir, if you don't mind."
Dumbledore smiled. "Quite alright, Mr. Malfoy. No worries. I will make further arrangements for you after the Christmas break. I trust you intend to become a double agent?"
Draco nodded stoutly. "Yes."
"And I assume you have seen Professor Snape after attending some of the gatherings?"
"Yes. I tended to some of his wounds myself – I know of the Dark curses that caused them, so I'm more efficient than Madam Pomfrey in that sense."
"And you are fully prepared to live the rest of your life branded as something you are not? Shunned in light when people learn of your unwilling branding?"
"Yes."
"All this because you are unwilling to be saved by Harry Potter? He is the only one that possesses the power we need to destroy Voldemort, you know. I would send others to save you, but I cannot risk it. You know how it is, of course."
"I understand, Professor. To me, I'm refusing aid because of the nature of it. I don't want to be a coward, sir, and I don't want to be charity either. I assure you, Professor, that if Potter will insists on completing the mission, it is for nothing else than to satisfy his guilt," Draco said, eyes flashing, face betraying no emotion.
"Ah. I see." Dumbledore hid a smirk behind his cup of tea. It simply did not do to have a Headmaster smirk. "Very well then. I will see what I can arrange. You do realise, Mr. Malfoy, that I will do anything in my power to prevent you from receiving the Dark Mark, even as a double agent. You will have to prove your loyalty many times and I am loath to let a power such as yours fall into Voldemort's hands. This is just to give you warning, Mr. Malfoy, in case the plan does go into action. With some adjustments, of course."
Draco nodded. "That's fine with me, sir."
Too bad Draco forgot to ask what adjustments those would be.
***
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon of the last day of school before Crabbe and Goyle were awoken in their respective beds by a flap and a hoot of Draco's eagle owl. They were, of course, well trained to wake up whenever they heard Draco's pet.
"Huh?" said Goyle, sitting up.
"Uh," said Crabbe, sitting up.
They drew aside the curtains around their beds, and Goyle batted the owl away from his head as he reached for the parchment that it dropped onto his bed. "It's from Draco," he announced. "It's long," he added, eyeing the thickness of the envelope.
"Too early to read," Crabbe grumbled. "You read it out."
Goyle gave a pointed look at the supposedly sleeping figures around them.
Crabbe grumbled. "Fine, I'll come over." He slid into Goyle's warm bed next to his friend, and they drew the curtains, casting several charms before Goyle read the letter aloud, which was written on wide parchment for letter writing.
Dear Crabbe and Goyle,
Well, it certainly looks as if I'll be the first to go. It can't be helped – that's the way life goes. You must not give up on what we had planned for the future – do it without me if possible, and do not follow me when it is time for you two to make your own decisions.
Go to Dumbledore – he is a good man, though a bumbling fool – and he will save you from my fate. He tried his best, and is still trying his best to save me, but I think it best not to keep my hopes up. There is nothing much he can do, and I have personally rejected the original plan he thought up. You two probably feel like strangling me now, don't you? I know, I know, we said we would do all in our power to stop from getting the Mark, but Dumbledore's plan was basically a heroic save by - guess who – Harry Potter. And you two know how I now feel about that.
Do not blame Potter for my refusal of aid – it is merely my pride that refuses to accept such charity.
I want you two to remember as I was – as a boy, as your friend, as a student at Hogwarts…however you want to remember me, just as long as it was in the past. I don't want you to recognise me when we meet in the future because – dear Gods – I can't stomach the thought that all three of us succumbed to the future we were bred for, and neither do I want either of you to recognise me if and when we meet during the battle that we all know is coming.
Forget me as I will be, and remember me as I was. Please. That is all I ask.
And, finally, because I am a drama queen, I will leave you two with a poem:
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
You two are my oldest, dearest, closest friends. I am not truly gone if the memory of me remains, and I will not be truly dead until my memory is dead also.
Do not bother coming to find me – I have gone to Dumbledore already and will be travelling to the train station with Professor Snape. They don't want anyone to see me as I go.
Your friend forever,
Draco Malfoy
Crabbe looked at Goyle. Goyle looked at Crabbe.
And the two of them bowed their heads and hugged each other awkwardly as their eyes scanned over the letter once more, words blurring in their efforts not to mourn for their friend. They trusted Dumbledore no further than they could throw Hagrid. And so they tried not to cry on that sunny winter morning as they sat side by side, the farewell letter from their best friend lying on the cover's of Goyle's bed.
Draco was lost to them, now.
***
Hogwarts Express, going home for Christmas.
The rest of the train was loud, boisterous, and happy, but Draco's compartment was completely silent and devoid of any joy or emotion. Perhaps it was because he was asleep, but even in sleep, he seemed to suck in happiness like a Dementor.
Harry slipped into the compartment, unseen, unheard and unnoticed under his Invisibility Cloak. He stood in the doorway, leaning back on the closed door, watching Draco sleep. Long slim legs were propped up on the seat across, arms were crossed, and Draco's normally rigid posture was slumped, but not relaxed. His head was leaning on the window, and the steady rocking from the engine caused a steady bump with each chug of the train. Draco was fast asleep, and did not notice.
Harry sat down next to him, watching Draco's head knock against the glass two more times before he tucked his arm behind Draco's neck and cupped his head in his palm to cushion it from the window.
And there he sat, for the entire day's train journey, Draco's head leaning against his palm. He didn't move and became numb and stiff and hurt like hell all over, but still he didn't move, wanting to cushion Draco from the unyielding glass and wanting that excuse to touch him again. His eyes roamed Draco hungrily – he hadn't had a good chance to stare properly ever since – and they went over each of his features one by one, burning them into his memory forever.
The scenery outside shifted, and Harry's glanced at it before realising that they were nearing King's Cross Station. He leaned in, gently touching his lips to Draco's, so like the first time he kissed Draco in his sleep. Only this time, there was an Invisibility Cloak in between their lips, a cruel metaphor for the barriers that separated them; this time, Draco would not wake and demand more kisses, and this time, Draco hated him. The train jolted as chimes rang to signal the near arrival, and Harry's lips slid from Draco's in the sudden movement. Hastily, Harry removed his hand as Draco began to stir and he stood up, backing away towards the door.
Draco opened his eyes then, and the first thing he did was look up towards the door. And look directly into Harry's startled gaze. Harry stopped breathing then, and clutched desperately to the folds of his Cloak – were they in disarray? Was a part of him exposed?
The two of them held the stare, Harry's heart thudding painfully in his chest expectantly, until Draco dropped his head and got to his feet.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and sadness as he slid out of the door when Draco wasn't looking.
---
Draco exited through another route – distinguished wizarding families did not associate with Muggles at all, not even at the train station. Instead, he went through another wall to Vertik Alley, where the car was waiting for him. One manservant opened the door for him while the driver collected his things, and as soon as Draco gave the command – a slight raise of his hand - they were off, moving speedily through traffic towards Malfoy Manor.
Draco turned towards the window, eyes staring outside, seeing nothing. He did not move for the entire journey.
The trip was long, and it was dark long before they arrived at the bottom of Murani Mountain, home to the Malfoys. Draco imagined it had to be nine, ten o' clock at least. Just enough time for a late supper and shower before heading up to his room to do nothing.
The car moved up the enormous mountain with surprising ease, considering the steepness of the road. Of course, it was charmed to do so, but it still came as a slight surprise to Draco that they could move almost vertically as easily as they moved on flat road.
In less than fifteen minutes, they had travelled over thirty thousand metres to the top, where the grounds and estate of Malfoy Manor lay, looking down on the rest of the world.
The door was opened, and Draco leisurely slid out of the car, a cold, chilly wind streaking across as he did so. The manservant shivered. Every time he opened the door and the family, or one of the family, stepped out, this wind would blow. It is not a natural wind, he knew.
Draco looked up at the foreboding manor before him. The wind blew again, swirling the light droplets of snow upwards, and Draco realised that it was snowing. He didn't even feel cold. He knew the manservant and driver were shivering – he could see them out of the corner of his eye as they unloaded his things from the car.
Two straight rows of servants were at the entrance steps to the manor, lined up neatly – males on one side, females on the other, by order of rank. They bowed deeply as Draco began walking towards the entrance, and a chorused "Welcome home, Master Draco," made its way to his ears. The house elves were not there – they were not important enough to greet him on return.
He could see that the main doors were open, and warm golden light flooded out, silhouetting two figures. Lucius Malfoy stood at the top, holding his walking stick stiffly, and Narcissa Malfoy stood next to him, hands folded, chin up, looking down at the steps that Draco were ascending. The two of them looked cold and forbidding, dressed in thin clothing that did not belong in the middle of December. But then, so was Draco, whose light school cloak blew out behind him as he walked up the last few steps.
The three of them were silent for a bare second, unblinking, unsmiling, while the unnatural wind blew again.
Lucius spoke. "Welcome home, Draco."
Draco nodded his head in greeting. "Good evening, Father, Mother."
"I trust there were no problems with your journey?"
"No, sir."
Narcissa had been standing, trembling with barely concealed excitement at Draco's return. She held her arms out then, and Draco entered her embrace willingly. She kissed both his cheeks, smile wide as she said, "My dear son, Mother missed you so much while you were away." Her voice was low, comforting, and beautiful like the rest of her.
"I missed you too, Mother." Draco smiled happily as Narcissa stroked his hair with the gentle love that only a mother could give.
Lucius sniffed, and tapped his walking stick on the ground. "Come. We are to have supper in half an hour. Go to your room and wash up."
Narcissa released Draco from her hold, then, and smoothed back an errant strand of his hair as she smiled and took Lucius' arm to enter, Draco trailing along behind like a good son as the doormen bowed for their entrance.
They stepped into the Entrance Hall and behind them came the sound of the heavy mahogany doors creaking close as it echoed from the walls with a resounding slam that held a foreboding note of finality.
Draco was home.
End Part 1
Part 2 Coming Soon
Merry Christmas everyone!!! If I left anything out in this chapter, it'll definitely be in Part 2. I don't think I'll be writing the details of what happened, but the main gist will be known, I hope :) Part 2 will mainly be about Harry and Draco, with much less outside pressure from Lucius and Voldemort. Something will be very wrong with our favourite violinist, and Harry has to try and repair his treachery to an unforgiving Draco. Thank you all so very much for reading this story – you guys make my days! - and hopefully I'll have the next part up before my exams begin!
And…my excuses for taking so long? Well, to be honest, I'm not exactly a healthy person, and so have been bedridden for the better part of the last month or so. Plus, my A-Level exams start in January (yes, January…I take the other two thirds of them in May) and I had my Biology coursework, and the Yr 13 Pantomime rehearsals and Carol Concert rehearsals to do. *nods* so yes. My excuses for this chapter, teehee…
Oh! The Devil's Trill was taken from the anime/manga series Yami no Matsuei, and the poem "Remember Me When I Am Gone Away" was by Christina Rossetti, both used without permission…sorry! – Supposedly the song (in the manga), was given to a composer who sold his soul to the Devil for the music, and it is the most beautiful, yet most difficult song that was ever written and no one can play it – that is, no one without a contract binding them to the Devil, granting them the skills to become the most talented violinist in the world. Hehehe…Of course, in this story, Draco is just a good violinist playing an eerie song :)
Also, thank you to everyone that reviewed my other two stories: Two, Four, Six, Eight and Dreams – Thank you SO much!
Though you might like to know: Lucius means " bringer of light". Strange. I thought it'd be a derivative of Lucifer rather than Lucas, heeheehee…and his mother's name, Charisse, is French for "grace, beauty, and kindness" which I think she certainly has, heehee. And Draco and Narcissa I think we all know already. I just thought Lucius' name is such a HUGE oxymoron with his character, hahaha.
Edit: Made a minor change – added a sentence about the ring, because I have the impression that many people forgot about it, heehee.
Notes: Oodles of thanks to May, the very evil bunny, ClarKeRaVen, alistar, Evil Laughter, efa, Summer, Anne Phoenix, Lady Malfoy II, someone who's too lazy to login, Heavens_beyond, GlacierFlame, bondagechic, IncubusSuccubus, in-a-crushd-tin-box, Patchfire, Marionette, Gwendolyn Malfoy, Lunadeath, mellony melody, Sera Luanma, J (BleedingEros), Moonblade, Sienna of Lothlorien, Zany, pottergirl, Mistic, random reviewer, ILLk, Hoshiko-Malfoy, Little Bunny Fu Fu, scythefire, Kiren, vanityfair, AshFarley, phoenixwhitebirch, Sineadluv, K.C., Marian of the Faeries, Aurora – Thank you so much for reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!, Tanya Maxwell, Reveuse, Avalon Princess, yiota, chrisseee67, Rosetta, deadredsocks, JadeDragon, Chiaki Dark, Jade_Jewel, Chireel, Scap, TanisaFyre – I have been preparing to protect myself with heavy armoury since I wrote a future chapter for Part 2 and imagined your reaction…heeheehee…and no, Draco won't die…at least not in Part 1, as you just read…LOL! I love the comment you made about Ron needing some…because YES…yes he DOES need to get some…from Hermione!, Jinsei, The Intellectual Dirtbag, Ghaleonsama, Baby Ty Ty, AmZ, mistykasumi – Well, actually, I think Draco gets stress headaches, it's just that he makes it worse because of the…thing…Hmmm…not sure, myself, heehee…Hope you like this chapter!, Morien Alexander, Jubilee – Yes, arsenic! Apparently, it's true. Humans can take very small quantities of arsenic. Of course, the toxins build up and it causes premature death, I think. The Emperor Charlemagne did it, and he took arsenic every day with his meal. I confirmed it with my Chemistry teacher – it CAN be done, and not just by wizards! Something about keeping your colouring pale (heehee)…Sorry this was a rather depressing chapter, but I *did* put Angst as a partial genre, lol…I promise, though, Part 2 will be so fluffy, I'll be calling it 'cotton candy'. Thanks for reading!, amethyst, Portuguese-Girl, IamtheLizardQueen, Green-and-Silver, Bizzle, Anna, jay, Tsuyuno – LOL! "It Which Can't Be Named" will be coming up in Part 2, and features heavily in the beginning…thanks for reading!, nightwing, Shades, Bubblie Bunnie, FatalDreams-Seducer of Fantasy, Aurenne, ruz – Thanks for your review! The 'thing' will be coming up REALLY soon, I absolutely promise! Promise! Really! No, REALLY!!! Hope you liked this chapter!, Silmarien – Thank you so much for your review! I'm really really happy you like the story!, Anita Blake, Rings of Saturn, Black Night, ljp – I'm glad you like the suspense (I'm not so sure I did it ok) and I'm so so SO happy you liked my little Crabbe sentence about life being a story! :) Happy reading!, Kitori – Thanks for your review! I wonder if you'll figure out Draco's mystery problem before I put the next part up? Probably, since I write so slowly, heehee. Too bad I didn't add it into this chapter…I'm really glad you think C&G are cute, and thank you for reading!, crimson nightmare – I know what you mean! I love this Harry! I must admit, though, that I modelled him after guys I like personally, but I did give him some pretty unforgivable flaws, hehehe…And you're welcome for the line! Sometimes it's hard to wiggle out when you're cornered for a secret :) I'm glad you like my Crabbe and Goyle – I think they're sweet…and thank you so much for your review – it's so sweet of you!, But Siriusly, Natalie, Silent Angel, Cathy, Shikala – Thank you so much for your review, and I'm really glad you like this story! I hope you like this ending, but then again, it's not really an ending, because there's a second part in the making already!, TheUnknownJedi, M-chan, Spike Shinizzle, LunarGlow20, Mystic-Flower, [name not given] – Crabbe and Goyle are rather 'schizophrenic' mostly because, I guess, that's just how they are. They aren't smart, but they possess amazingly lucid minds that can see through many things, such as the fact that they can tell Draco was having a secret affair with Harry while they got only twenty percent on their exam. They don't exactly try to appear stupid, but they do hide their 'smartness' from others because its is their trump card. Thanks for review!, lime – If the chapters aren't accessible now, you could give me your email address and I'll mail you the chapters all at one go (or a couple at a time). Thank you for reading!, kirahardymalfoy – Thanks for your review! I'm really glad you like this story :D, Yoink Daydurfurits – :D I hope you like this chapter, and that you keep reading when Part 2 comes out…thanks!, secret08 – thank you! Your review was very sweet!, Silver – Thank you so much for reviewing! Like I said above (in bold…look ^) I won't be giving much details, because the logistics are *terrible* to work out, but hopefully you'll understand mainly what happened. I think…heehee…keep reading!, shy girl – Thank you for reading! Hope you like this ending!, elseedy – I'm glad you like chapter 4! Never too late to start reading, hehehe…, Fleur101 – Thank you for reading and reviewing! Hope you'll stay around to read the next part!, El – I'm not too sure how you spell cyncher/cincher either, but thank you! And, why, YES! Draco IS drinking something worse! It'll come up real soon, and plays a big part in the beginning of Part 2, where Harry tries to win Draco back., Colli – Thank you for reading! I'm assuming you like Draco? (yup) Why thank you! LOL…yes, I am crazy :) I thought torrid was a negative word, but I guess it still works, lol!, I Am The Bunny Slayer – I promise…no Draco killing in Part 1…*ducks at the tomatoes being thrown*…OK, OK. There will be, obviously, angst, in Part 2, but since I love Draco, I don't think I'll be killing him off any time soon…*gulps nervously* even if only to keep the mob of raging fans from tearing down my apartment building, hehehe…Thanks for reviewing!, Sierra Sitruc – Wow, thanks for your comment! I'm really glad you like the Slytherin side to the story! Keep reading!, Shinigami – Am I right in saying you're an YnM fan? Heeheehee…The thing about Lucius' mother…Well. Heehee. I guess you know now, even though it was only mentioned vaguely. LOL! What spells do you plan to use on our DEAR Ronald? People who emailed me – Thank you!! Thank you so much!
