Another chapter...if anybody's actually paying attention. Sorry this is late; I tried to get it out before the holiday, but we went away before I could finish it.
Rowenna: I thank you very much for your invaluble comments...I like it more when somebody's telling me how I can make my writing better than just saying how great it is. With the coming out part, I thought that Harry felt like he had to be perfectly honest with these people. Maybe it wasn't clear enough; I know it's very OOC, but then again, this is an AU fic, so some things are different. Regarding what Draco thinks of Harry, I was considering greatly putting it in that chapter, but I really wanted to wait until this one, where we see more of Draco's situation. You'll get some of that now, along with more information on Harry's past.
SailorBaby16: It's coming soon, and you'll find out in this chapter.
E Pluribus Duum by Anonymous Bystander
Chapter 3 - Broken Present, Broken Past
"And just where have you been?"
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Draco had tried to shut the door quietly, had even taken the back stairs so as not to pass his father's study, but his father found him. Yes, Lucius Malfoy saw everything.
"Say something, boy! I haven't got all day to stand around and chatter! Now I want an explaination, and I want it now."
Draco muttered something, then shook his head, and held it up high. "I went to dinner at the mall with my friends, sir," he said in a loud, clear voice.
"And what about homework, my dear Draco," hissed the older Malfoy, his voice laden with malevolence.
"I - I thought that...well, since it's the first day of school..." Draco trailed off hopefully.
His father paused, considering. "Never again, Draco," he whispered icily. "Never."
Lucius Malfoy began to stalk away, head held high.
"Why can't you be like all of the other fathers?!" Draco blurted out. Shit, double shit. He regretted it the moment the words escaped his lips. The elder Malfoy turned slowly on his heel, his eyes wide with rage.
"What?" Draco hated the way his father said that. Like he resented Draco's very existence.
But Draco knew he couldn't back down now. He couldn't now that he'd started this. Fuck, god dammit. "Everybody else's dads are nice. They don't yell at their sons every five minutes. They say things to their sons other than 'Where have you been' and 'Your grades aren't good enough'. It's not fair. I don't want you, I want somebody else!"
Smack!
The ridiculous staff that Lucius always carried slammed against Draco's jawbone. Draco fell to the floor, seeing spots, pain searing through his head. He opened his mouth once or twice. The pain was white-hot, searing, but his jaw was not broken.
"One day, Draco, not long from now," Lucius hissed, "you will learn to respect me." Glancing back at the weakened boy on the floor, he added, "Or else..."
****
When Harry arrived at school the next morning, it already felt like he'd been there for months. This place felt like home more than his old school ever had. It just felt so odd...eccentric headmaster, overly enthusiastic friends, overly hyper godfather with his barking mad boyfriend...Harry almost felt happy. Almost. Something was missing, of course. Something was always missing. There was an empty well inside of him, a shard of metal, digging deep, always moving downward where it couldn't be seen, but it was always felt, its pain more and more excruciating as it became more invisible to the outside eye.
Harry pushed on. He hid from the pain, made himself numb to it. It was aided by abuse because of his homosexuality, which he didn't like hiding from people. It was part of him, he knew, and something that important shouldn't stay hidden.
Of course, he was lucky to have Sirius and Remus, they were constant guides, protectors, leaders, and father-figures. Together, the three of them had gotten through his parents' deaths, and they lived on. The three had formed a team; each one could function only with the other two, and they worked and lived in perfect harmony. They all felt pain, and together, they could handle it.
"Heya," said Draco as he approached Harry, having spotted him accross the school campus, "No ride today?"
"No," replied Harry, happy to have somebody with which to make good-natured conversation. "My godfather had to go to work early."
"Hmm..." said Draco.
There was silence for a few moments, then Harry noticed that Draco's jaw was slightly swollen, and Draco was wincing every time he opened his mouth. "Are you all right?" Harry inquired concernedly.
"What?"
"Your jaw...are you okay?" Harry asked again.
"Oh, um..." Draco stuttered. "I - I tripped, and hit my jaw..."
Harry paused for a moment. That was the worst lie he'd ever heard in his life. "It's all right," he said to Draco, stopping to sit on a bench outside of one of the buildings, "you can tell me."
"Tell you what?!" said Draco, suddenly feeling agressive. Normally, he would have been glad that such a good-looking boy, now his friend, was concerned about his well-being, but this was a touchy matter.
Taken aback, Harry muttered, "Never mind." If Draco didn't want to talk about whatever had caused his injury, Harry wasn't going to force him to.
There was an awkward silence in which both boys cast around for a new subject for their conversation. Draco found it. "Where are your parents?"
"What?" said Harry, immediately defensive.
"You said you live with your godfather. Where are you parents?"
Oh shit, thought Harry. This always comes up, doesn't it. It always has to. They always have to ask.
"They're dead."
Another uncaring, falsely pitying appology, thought Harry. That's what's coming.
"I'm so sorry," fumbled Draco. "I didn't mean to-"
"Yeah, yeah," said Harry. "I don't want pity. Just drop it."
"If it's any consolation, my dad's a complete prick, and I hardly ever see my mom."
"Wow, big whoop," said Harry, becoming more and more irritated. "At least they're alive...so, that's how you got hurt, is it?" Yes, changing the subject was good.
"What?"
"You said that your father was a complete prick," said Harry. "I deduced that he was the one who hurt you."
"Yes, OK? Yes. Look, I don't want to talk about this."
"Ahhh..." said Harry in a feaux-whistful voice, laughing ironically, "the screwed up lives of teenage guys...how wonderful!"
"How about this," said Draco, a sudden idea clicking inside his head, "you obviously aren't ready to talk about your parents to me, and I don't want to talk about mine to you. How about I take you out to dinner saturday night and we can talk about it."
Harry paused, very surprised but trying to hide it. He most certainly was not expecting that. "Are you asking me out on a date?" was the first thing that came to mind, and he blurted it out. Stupid! Quoting from a movie?! Stupid!
It was Draco's turn to pause. "Would you like me to be?"
Harry's spirits lifted slightly. That was a good answer. Maybe he'd leave this conversation with a date. Now, he needed just the right thing to say... "Would you like it if I did?" Argh! Not only was that stupid and incredibly clichŽd, it was also confusing! Harry very nearly hit himself. There was no way Draco, whom Harry didn't even know was gay (or even if he was) would want to go out with him after that. Everything was so confusing, and Harry couldn't think of any answer that Draco could give that would simplify things.
But Draco came up with one. "Yes," he said, then walked away, a huge grin on his face.
*****
He'd done it. He'd gotten a date with Harry. Perfect! Harry, apart from being very attractive, was a cipher to Draco, and it was one that he was eager to try and decrypt. Already he'd begun, but Draco knew that the death of Harry's parents was only the tip of the iceberg.
In the meantime, however, Draco had schoolwork to do. He had gotten lost in his social life, and his homework - and his father - were catching up with him. Sighing in frustration the day after he'd gotten his date with Harry, Draco sat at his desk, trying to decipher the day's new type of math problem, which he knew he'd forget in a second and never need to use anyway.
There was a knock on the door, but before Draco could answer, his father pushed the door open and swept into the room. His father had a tendency to sweep into rooms, whether or not the occasion required or even suggested sweeping. It made Draco sick, watching him be so fake.
"Draco," Lucius said, talking as usual as though Draco was of little concern, "we have a guest. He'll be staying here for a couple of days before he can get his own place to live. You're to treat him with respect, and you will not ask questions. Is this clear?"
"Yes, father," was Draco's obedient reply. The elder Malfoy turned to leave, but Draco spoke again. "By what name should I call our ... guest?"
Lucius turned with a sneer. "Tom."
*****
Harry felt as if the week was going by at a snail's pace. School slipped by in slow doses. It wasn't particularly challenging, nor was it particularly easy. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't boring. Harry was indifferent about school. He went, he did his homework, took tests, and got grades. There was nothing enlightening or special about it.
Except at school, he got to see Draco. They didn't act any differently with each other after Draco had asked Harry out, nor did they tell Ron, Hermione, or any of the others about it. Harry didn't know what Draco's reasons were, but he felt that he needed to take it slowly, let the fact sink in that he was gay (which they seemed to have no problem with), and then tell them. That was, of course, if this went anywhere. He and Draco might just go to dinner, talk about the past and the present, about all of their problems, and then that would be it. Harry didn't want that to happen, but he didn't want to get his hopes up and left it as a definite possibility.
It was Friday night, the night before The Date. Harry walked in the house and, as usual slumped onto the couch, fully glad that his first week of school was over. Sirius walked in, drying his hands on a dishtowel.
"Hey, Harry," he said, "do you have anything planned for tommorrow night? Remus and I are going to rent that movie...you know the one, about the thing at the place. With that actor, Whatshisname."
"Sorry, Sirius, I can't. I have a date." He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He should have made something up. Remus scampered into the room from the kitchen, eyes glittering, eager with excitement.
"Really?" he said enthusiastically. "Who?"
"A guy at school," said Harry.
"Really, is he cute--"
Sirius cut him off. "Remus, my love, I'm going to stop you right there. This is Harry's business, not ours. And, I should let you know, I believe that you just 'scampered', which is not a good thing."
"I _scampered_?" said Remus incredulously. "And what exactly is the definition of 'to scamper', Sirius?"
"I'm not sure, but what you did is certainly it."
"I'm going upstairs!" yelled Harry above the other two before this escalated into another one of those incredibly unbearable mock-fights between the two lovestricken men. It would be dangerous to his mental and physical health if he stayed downstairs any longer.
****
Saturday night finally came.
Under the excuse that he was going to the library to study, Draco left his house at six thirty and pulled out of the driveway in his Mercedes SUV and drove to Harry's house, more nervous than Harry, this was the night.
The drive seemed to take forever. Draco kept glancing at the clock on the dash to make sure he wasn't late. Why was he so nervous? Did he like Harry? Certainly. But could this be different from any other guy he'd ever dated? What set Harry apart from the others? Draco mulled it all over in his mind as he drove. It just didn't make any sense to him.
There was something special about Harry, this much was clear. That was the only thing that Draco could put his finger on. He'd just have to wait and find out exactly what.
He was startled that he'd already reached Harry's house. The drive was shorter than he'd thought it was. Draco got out of the car and turned one of the mirrors toward him, evaluating his overall appearance. He war an untucked, light yellow, long-sleeved shirt and kakhi trousers. His hair, artfully touseled, completed the look. The effect, he thought, was excellent.
He walked up to the door, hesitating when he reached it. His nervousness doubled; rockets shot around in his stomach, a lump formed in his throat. Jesus Fucking Christ, what was wrong with him.
He knocked on the door, once, twice. Pause. The tension mounted. Draco could feel it. He felt like he was in some sort of cheesy romantic movie, that Harry would come out, and Draco would hand him flowers and they would kiss and it would be a happy ending...to what? What had begun? Draco was confused.
The door opened, and Draco gasped. Harry wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt and dark jeans. On any other person, it would have been perfectly regular, but on Harry, it was gorgeous beyond belief.
"Well," said Draco, "let's go..."
*****
A/N...Sorry, for all three of you who care, you'll have to wait for the date itself.
Rowenna: I thank you very much for your invaluble comments...I like it more when somebody's telling me how I can make my writing better than just saying how great it is. With the coming out part, I thought that Harry felt like he had to be perfectly honest with these people. Maybe it wasn't clear enough; I know it's very OOC, but then again, this is an AU fic, so some things are different. Regarding what Draco thinks of Harry, I was considering greatly putting it in that chapter, but I really wanted to wait until this one, where we see more of Draco's situation. You'll get some of that now, along with more information on Harry's past.
SailorBaby16: It's coming soon, and you'll find out in this chapter.
E Pluribus Duum by Anonymous Bystander
Chapter 3 - Broken Present, Broken Past
"And just where have you been?"
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Draco had tried to shut the door quietly, had even taken the back stairs so as not to pass his father's study, but his father found him. Yes, Lucius Malfoy saw everything.
"Say something, boy! I haven't got all day to stand around and chatter! Now I want an explaination, and I want it now."
Draco muttered something, then shook his head, and held it up high. "I went to dinner at the mall with my friends, sir," he said in a loud, clear voice.
"And what about homework, my dear Draco," hissed the older Malfoy, his voice laden with malevolence.
"I - I thought that...well, since it's the first day of school..." Draco trailed off hopefully.
His father paused, considering. "Never again, Draco," he whispered icily. "Never."
Lucius Malfoy began to stalk away, head held high.
"Why can't you be like all of the other fathers?!" Draco blurted out. Shit, double shit. He regretted it the moment the words escaped his lips. The elder Malfoy turned slowly on his heel, his eyes wide with rage.
"What?" Draco hated the way his father said that. Like he resented Draco's very existence.
But Draco knew he couldn't back down now. He couldn't now that he'd started this. Fuck, god dammit. "Everybody else's dads are nice. They don't yell at their sons every five minutes. They say things to their sons other than 'Where have you been' and 'Your grades aren't good enough'. It's not fair. I don't want you, I want somebody else!"
Smack!
The ridiculous staff that Lucius always carried slammed against Draco's jawbone. Draco fell to the floor, seeing spots, pain searing through his head. He opened his mouth once or twice. The pain was white-hot, searing, but his jaw was not broken.
"One day, Draco, not long from now," Lucius hissed, "you will learn to respect me." Glancing back at the weakened boy on the floor, he added, "Or else..."
****
When Harry arrived at school the next morning, it already felt like he'd been there for months. This place felt like home more than his old school ever had. It just felt so odd...eccentric headmaster, overly enthusiastic friends, overly hyper godfather with his barking mad boyfriend...Harry almost felt happy. Almost. Something was missing, of course. Something was always missing. There was an empty well inside of him, a shard of metal, digging deep, always moving downward where it couldn't be seen, but it was always felt, its pain more and more excruciating as it became more invisible to the outside eye.
Harry pushed on. He hid from the pain, made himself numb to it. It was aided by abuse because of his homosexuality, which he didn't like hiding from people. It was part of him, he knew, and something that important shouldn't stay hidden.
Of course, he was lucky to have Sirius and Remus, they were constant guides, protectors, leaders, and father-figures. Together, the three of them had gotten through his parents' deaths, and they lived on. The three had formed a team; each one could function only with the other two, and they worked and lived in perfect harmony. They all felt pain, and together, they could handle it.
"Heya," said Draco as he approached Harry, having spotted him accross the school campus, "No ride today?"
"No," replied Harry, happy to have somebody with which to make good-natured conversation. "My godfather had to go to work early."
"Hmm..." said Draco.
There was silence for a few moments, then Harry noticed that Draco's jaw was slightly swollen, and Draco was wincing every time he opened his mouth. "Are you all right?" Harry inquired concernedly.
"What?"
"Your jaw...are you okay?" Harry asked again.
"Oh, um..." Draco stuttered. "I - I tripped, and hit my jaw..."
Harry paused for a moment. That was the worst lie he'd ever heard in his life. "It's all right," he said to Draco, stopping to sit on a bench outside of one of the buildings, "you can tell me."
"Tell you what?!" said Draco, suddenly feeling agressive. Normally, he would have been glad that such a good-looking boy, now his friend, was concerned about his well-being, but this was a touchy matter.
Taken aback, Harry muttered, "Never mind." If Draco didn't want to talk about whatever had caused his injury, Harry wasn't going to force him to.
There was an awkward silence in which both boys cast around for a new subject for their conversation. Draco found it. "Where are your parents?"
"What?" said Harry, immediately defensive.
"You said you live with your godfather. Where are you parents?"
Oh shit, thought Harry. This always comes up, doesn't it. It always has to. They always have to ask.
"They're dead."
Another uncaring, falsely pitying appology, thought Harry. That's what's coming.
"I'm so sorry," fumbled Draco. "I didn't mean to-"
"Yeah, yeah," said Harry. "I don't want pity. Just drop it."
"If it's any consolation, my dad's a complete prick, and I hardly ever see my mom."
"Wow, big whoop," said Harry, becoming more and more irritated. "At least they're alive...so, that's how you got hurt, is it?" Yes, changing the subject was good.
"What?"
"You said that your father was a complete prick," said Harry. "I deduced that he was the one who hurt you."
"Yes, OK? Yes. Look, I don't want to talk about this."
"Ahhh..." said Harry in a feaux-whistful voice, laughing ironically, "the screwed up lives of teenage guys...how wonderful!"
"How about this," said Draco, a sudden idea clicking inside his head, "you obviously aren't ready to talk about your parents to me, and I don't want to talk about mine to you. How about I take you out to dinner saturday night and we can talk about it."
Harry paused, very surprised but trying to hide it. He most certainly was not expecting that. "Are you asking me out on a date?" was the first thing that came to mind, and he blurted it out. Stupid! Quoting from a movie?! Stupid!
It was Draco's turn to pause. "Would you like me to be?"
Harry's spirits lifted slightly. That was a good answer. Maybe he'd leave this conversation with a date. Now, he needed just the right thing to say... "Would you like it if I did?" Argh! Not only was that stupid and incredibly clichŽd, it was also confusing! Harry very nearly hit himself. There was no way Draco, whom Harry didn't even know was gay (or even if he was) would want to go out with him after that. Everything was so confusing, and Harry couldn't think of any answer that Draco could give that would simplify things.
But Draco came up with one. "Yes," he said, then walked away, a huge grin on his face.
*****
He'd done it. He'd gotten a date with Harry. Perfect! Harry, apart from being very attractive, was a cipher to Draco, and it was one that he was eager to try and decrypt. Already he'd begun, but Draco knew that the death of Harry's parents was only the tip of the iceberg.
In the meantime, however, Draco had schoolwork to do. He had gotten lost in his social life, and his homework - and his father - were catching up with him. Sighing in frustration the day after he'd gotten his date with Harry, Draco sat at his desk, trying to decipher the day's new type of math problem, which he knew he'd forget in a second and never need to use anyway.
There was a knock on the door, but before Draco could answer, his father pushed the door open and swept into the room. His father had a tendency to sweep into rooms, whether or not the occasion required or even suggested sweeping. It made Draco sick, watching him be so fake.
"Draco," Lucius said, talking as usual as though Draco was of little concern, "we have a guest. He'll be staying here for a couple of days before he can get his own place to live. You're to treat him with respect, and you will not ask questions. Is this clear?"
"Yes, father," was Draco's obedient reply. The elder Malfoy turned to leave, but Draco spoke again. "By what name should I call our ... guest?"
Lucius turned with a sneer. "Tom."
*****
Harry felt as if the week was going by at a snail's pace. School slipped by in slow doses. It wasn't particularly challenging, nor was it particularly easy. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't boring. Harry was indifferent about school. He went, he did his homework, took tests, and got grades. There was nothing enlightening or special about it.
Except at school, he got to see Draco. They didn't act any differently with each other after Draco had asked Harry out, nor did they tell Ron, Hermione, or any of the others about it. Harry didn't know what Draco's reasons were, but he felt that he needed to take it slowly, let the fact sink in that he was gay (which they seemed to have no problem with), and then tell them. That was, of course, if this went anywhere. He and Draco might just go to dinner, talk about the past and the present, about all of their problems, and then that would be it. Harry didn't want that to happen, but he didn't want to get his hopes up and left it as a definite possibility.
It was Friday night, the night before The Date. Harry walked in the house and, as usual slumped onto the couch, fully glad that his first week of school was over. Sirius walked in, drying his hands on a dishtowel.
"Hey, Harry," he said, "do you have anything planned for tommorrow night? Remus and I are going to rent that movie...you know the one, about the thing at the place. With that actor, Whatshisname."
"Sorry, Sirius, I can't. I have a date." He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He should have made something up. Remus scampered into the room from the kitchen, eyes glittering, eager with excitement.
"Really?" he said enthusiastically. "Who?"
"A guy at school," said Harry.
"Really, is he cute--"
Sirius cut him off. "Remus, my love, I'm going to stop you right there. This is Harry's business, not ours. And, I should let you know, I believe that you just 'scampered', which is not a good thing."
"I _scampered_?" said Remus incredulously. "And what exactly is the definition of 'to scamper', Sirius?"
"I'm not sure, but what you did is certainly it."
"I'm going upstairs!" yelled Harry above the other two before this escalated into another one of those incredibly unbearable mock-fights between the two lovestricken men. It would be dangerous to his mental and physical health if he stayed downstairs any longer.
****
Saturday night finally came.
Under the excuse that he was going to the library to study, Draco left his house at six thirty and pulled out of the driveway in his Mercedes SUV and drove to Harry's house, more nervous than Harry, this was the night.
The drive seemed to take forever. Draco kept glancing at the clock on the dash to make sure he wasn't late. Why was he so nervous? Did he like Harry? Certainly. But could this be different from any other guy he'd ever dated? What set Harry apart from the others? Draco mulled it all over in his mind as he drove. It just didn't make any sense to him.
There was something special about Harry, this much was clear. That was the only thing that Draco could put his finger on. He'd just have to wait and find out exactly what.
He was startled that he'd already reached Harry's house. The drive was shorter than he'd thought it was. Draco got out of the car and turned one of the mirrors toward him, evaluating his overall appearance. He war an untucked, light yellow, long-sleeved shirt and kakhi trousers. His hair, artfully touseled, completed the look. The effect, he thought, was excellent.
He walked up to the door, hesitating when he reached it. His nervousness doubled; rockets shot around in his stomach, a lump formed in his throat. Jesus Fucking Christ, what was wrong with him.
He knocked on the door, once, twice. Pause. The tension mounted. Draco could feel it. He felt like he was in some sort of cheesy romantic movie, that Harry would come out, and Draco would hand him flowers and they would kiss and it would be a happy ending...to what? What had begun? Draco was confused.
The door opened, and Draco gasped. Harry wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt and dark jeans. On any other person, it would have been perfectly regular, but on Harry, it was gorgeous beyond belief.
"Well," said Draco, "let's go..."
*****
A/N...Sorry, for all three of you who care, you'll have to wait for the date itself.