Disclaimer:
I don't own characters
But if they belong to you
I REALLY DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS
So please don't sue
:: Heh. Never gets old::
Warnings: is kind of slashy, though the mildest type. Draco/Harry Pairing implied. Got a bit of infrequent strong language, so do the whol 'don't like - don't read' thing, eh?
So, considoring your still here, read on...
Harry, depressed and sleepless once again drifted through the halls of Hogwart's with noting but the robes on his bruised back, and pain in his mind.
Like so many other nights, with Filch dead from the war, and Peeves serving his duty a an immortal spy, there was no one to catch him. Students once on holiday, now rotted in their deceased minds with nothing or no one to love and look for them.
And then war was still raging. There was talks of spies in Hogwarts and Voldemort planning an attack. Harry was just glad to be away from the Dursley's, giving the bruises on his back a chance they had not had during the many weeks to heal.
At least, he had hopes, though Seamus's seemed to be sinking lower and lower into despair at the loss of his family, and the only way to vent his anger was on people. Harry, stronger and better at fighting when he had to get away from his Uncle, was not targeted.
But defending Neville when Seamus so spontaneously jumped him that morning, had taken a lot out of him.
So Harry wondered.
He walked the dungeons endlessly with only insomnia for company in the dungeon. Torches had been extinguished Harry, if not having memorised his time from traipsing the corridors so many miserable times might have gotten lost.
Though his mind was lost and impulsive, no longer thinking or speculating, as if every year, a part of him had died and gone. Coming to terms with his parents death for a second time, and meeting Voldemort, a mere memory, but still so powerful.
Then finding out that the man he knew that killed his parents, was a stranger to him once again with ragged lines so etched deep into his face he was barely recognisable.
And what about the liar? The man pretending to be someone he wasn't, only to kill Harry, and then the death of Sirius. It was like losing his parents three times over.
The man he had been brought to love like the parents he had never had ripped away once again with his hope. And once again, a part of him had died with Sirius.
And the love he shared for other people died with it. Why should he love the people ripped away from him in front of his very eyes. A part of his past, his parents past.
So Harry wandered.
A dull like shined out from the crack between the door, and a low murmuring of movements in the room, and perhaps the harsh hisses of a cauldron.
Slowly Harry creaked open the door, weary that he might find Snape brewing a midnight snack in his pyjamas.
Draco was standing by the fire roaring the grate, oblivious to Harry.
His blonde hair shined in the fire light and shadows crept across his sharp features, his eyes locked on the vial with such intensity Harry felt a feeling of foreboding settle in his stomach.
Harry, far on the other side of the room, snatched the vial with a summoning spell.
Draco spun around with panicked grace.
'Potter!'
Harry held the vial up to the light. 'Vandal Root, Goat weed, Skull cap,' Harry bit his lip, not liking where his analysing was going. 'And... and Passiflora incarnata - Malfoy - this is poison!'
'No,' said Malfoy scathing. 'I thought it was pumpkin juice! Now give it the fuck back!'
Harry's mind raced. Was Malfoy going to poison someone - or himself?
'I can't Malfoy,' said Harry, his voice dry. 'I can't let you kill yourself.'
Malfoy laughed coldly, his eyes still trained on the vial, though he did not make a step towards Harry.
'Isn't this rich,' said Malfoy. 'The famous Harry Potter wants to save precious little Draco from offing himself. Well you talk shit, Potter. In fact,' Malfoy drawled, and raised his eyebrows. 'I would have thought you'd be the first to kill yourself when pathetic attempt at parental substitute kicked the bucket.'
'Fuck you, Malfoy,' Harry snarled, protective against Sirius's memory. 'Sirius gave his life for the ones he loved. Who would do that for you?'
For a moment he thought he saw something cross Malfoy's face, but it was gone again. Just cool grey eyes of cold fury.
