Title: Fated

Author: Miss T

Rating: R

Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark/Fluff/Muuuuuush!

Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence

Pairings: Draco/Harry

Timeline: 7th year

A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence and drug references so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)

A/N: Changed it a bit. Mahaha.

CHAPTER 12 – Desperate Measures

Draco grasped onto Harry's shoulders and shook him hard, causing the raven haired boy's head to loll uselessly around on his neck.

"Oh… god!" Draco breathed, clasping onto Harry's chin and using his other hand to support his back. *You can't be dead… you can't be dead!* Draco moved his fingers down to Harry's throat, searching desperately for any sign of a pulse.

And there it was – dull, and very, very shallow, beating slowly but almost steadily. Draco let out a deep sigh of relief, quickly changing to panting breaths of panic again. If he didn't get help soon, Harry was going to die.

Blinking his eyes and whipping around desperately, Draco let Harry's limp body slump onto his lap as he pulled anxiously at his hair, thinking frantically.

After about 10 seconds of mental brainstorming, Draco pulled Harry back up straight against him.

"Right, Ok… Harry? It's OK." He muttered as he pulled the unconscious teen up, swinging him over his shoulder in a half-fireman's lift, wincing under his weight. As he stood up, Draco's knees began to buckle, and he felt like he would fall right there and then under Harry's dead weight.

Half panting, half sobbing, Draco stumbled onto his feet and forward, trudging awkwardly towards the entrance of the tomb, whimpering at the pain in his legs. When he finally reached the doors, Draco let out a strangled wail as he stumbled through them and landed very ungracefully on the foot of the stairs, on top of Harry. Cursing softly and bending over Harry, Draco glanced around the room behind them quickly, catching sight of Harry's wand lying about 10 metres on the marbled flooring from where they lay.

Giving Harry's hand a gentle squeeze, Draco stood up shakily and retrieved the wand with numb hands, pointing it at the unconscious boy at the foot of the stairs.

"Mobilicorpus." He muttered, sending Harry's body into the air like a very still puppet, chin rolling down onto his neck. Draco winced and sent Harry upwards as he followed slowly behind him on the stairs. Draco swore silently under his breath again as the tap-tapping of his dress shoes echoed throughout the stairway. As they reached the top of the staircase, Draco moved in front of Harry, keeping his wand pointed on him as he snuck his head out of the door.

The entrance hall inside Malfoy Manor was completely still and silent, devoid of any life. Saying a silent prayer to himself that his mother or father would not decide to come out for an evening stroll around the halls, Draco motioned Harry's body forward and towards the main staircase of the entrance hall. Walking up the stairs as silently as he could, and remembering not to let Harry's feet drag across the flooring, Draco felt like he was walking for an age until he reached the end of the left wing inside the Manor, where his father's study was located.

Taking in a deep breath and turning the handle of the large wooden door, Draco felt his heart leap into his throat as he opened the door, then jump into the bottomless pit of his stomach in relief as no one appeared to be in the room. Motioning Harry inside the large dim lit study, Draco let his unconscious form slump gently into the plush leather chair next to his father's unlit fireplace.

Shoving Harry's wand into the pocket of his very uncomfortable dress robes, Draco make a beeline to the glass cabinet behind his father's desk, that seemed to hold large crystal vials of expensive looking alcohol.

"Revealo." Draco whispered, spanning his hand across the glassy surface, which began to ripple subtly, changing the contents of the cabinet altogether.

Now, all that seemed to be inside that cabinet were objects of strange and beautiful wonder – objects one might use in a dark spell. Taking in a deep breath and opening the doors, Draco reached into the cabinet and pulled out a round golf ball sized sphere that glowed a yellowish white in the darkened room.

Walking over to Harry and placing the sphere in his palm, Draco watched as it levitated midway in the air, buzzing with light, and echoing a small whizzing noise into the air.

"State your name and your desired location." A female, almost robotic voice lulled into the air.

"Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter wish to be in Dumbledore's Office at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Draco stated as clearly as he could. The orb buzzed yet again as Draco reached out for Harry's hand, light filling every corner of the room sending them spinning into a whirlpool of burning white light.

~~~*~~~

Albus Dumbledore was pondering over which sticky pastry to eat when two of the most unlikely people fell with a loud thud onto his office floor. Clinging onto the edge of his desk to support himself, Dumbledore peered over onto the floor to see a very alive and kicking Draco Malfoy underneath the body of an unconscious Harry Potter.

Draco blinked up from his spot on the floor at Dumbledore, his hand still clutched onto Harry's. To say the headmaster looked shocked was an understatement.

"He's dying!!" Draco shouted, stumbling to his feet and trying his best to hold Harry's body up. "Please! Help me…" He wailed, as Dumbledore rushed from behind his desk, looking frantically over the two boys.

"Help me carry him to the hospital wing, Mr Malfoy." He said gently, as he took Harry's tail end, Draco hooking his arms underneath Harry's arm as they fled to the other side of the castle.

~~~*~~~

"Sir… I can explain." Draco breathed, pacing around the bed to face his old headmaster, who was watching over Harry's still body on one of the beds in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey was zipping around between the chaos, tending to Harry's needs.

Dumbledore blinked wildly and nodded. For the first time, the old headmaster felt lost for words.

"I'm not dead. I never… died." Draco stammered.

"Yes I can see that Mr Malfoy." Some of the old sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes began to reappear, as he coughed politely and urged Draco to continue.

Draco spilled out the entire tale to the headmaster, from his engagement to Pansy, to his faked death, to when he found Harry as he was waking up from said 'death'. Dumbledore kept quiet as Draco sobbed on, nodding every now and again in sympathy and understanding.

"I know he's expelled and everything… but can't you work something out? I know he's done a really bad thing but honestly, that doesn't even compare to what Blaise done to him! Please! I have nowhere else to go…" Draco sobbed, sniffing loudly and clinging onto the end of the sheets of Harry's bed.

"Calm down, my dear boy." Dumbledore said gently. "The Ministry did order me to remove Mr Potter from the school, but I think he and his two carers did not receive the news of my meeting with Mr Fudge earlier this week?"

Draco frowned and looked from Harry's still form, back to Dumbledore.

"He has allowed me to let Mr Potter finish his education here. But I must say… the paperwork was somewhat mountainous!" Dumbledore chuckled, albeit somewhat sadly.

"Where am I to go?!" Draco blurted, suddenly realising that his entire school, friends and family thought he was dead.

"Don't worry, Mr Malfoy. You will be staying here with us." Dumbledore replied.

"What? But everyone thinks I'm dead!" Draco stammered.

"True. How about this, Mr Malfoy – I let you stay here, not letting anyone you don't want to know this fact, on one condition. After graduation you become a Junior Potions Teacher."

Draco raised his eyebrows. In the midst of everything, this news came as a massive shock… he hadn't even thought about what he wanted to do when he left Hogwarts, especially since he thought he would be living a sordid secret life with Harry. But this idea… this idea sounded tempting. Very tempting indeed.

"OK…" He said after a few more seconds. "But, won't the students know who I am? I mean, all due respect sir, but I was very well known at this school." Draco ruffled a hand into his now-dishevelled hair.

"True again. But that's nothing a change of name and a few years advance can't change." Dumbledore replied, his eyes sparkling.

"A few years advance?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You will indeed have to go through two or so years of teacher training before you can become a qualified Teacher, Mr Malfoy. I will see to it that Professor Snape takes you under his wing, well, once he has gotten over the shock that you are back from the dead, that is." Dumbledore chuckled. "Your identity will be kept secret throughout the school for the next few years or so, once you have been fully trained we'll… release you to the masses, with a change of name – longer hair I assume, and no one will blink an eyelid."

This sounded impossible. Of course people will recognise Draco Malfoy! He's a Malfoy! "It does sound like a good idea, sir, but… I assure you people are going to recognise me."

Dumbledore nodded and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "That's a risk I'm willing to take, Mr Malfoy."

Draco caught his breath and squinted his eyes, feeling tears coming again. He couldn't believe he had never thought to trust Dumbledore before, and practically cringed remembering when he branded him as a fool.

"Thank you, Professor." Draco whispered hoarsely, looking back at Harry.

"Is he going to be OK?"

Dumbledore took his hand off of Draco's shoulder and turned to look at Harry lying on the bed. Madame Pomfrey was frantically tending to him, wand waving above his eyebrows while checking his temperature every now and again, feeding every type of cure-potion imaginable into the automatic feeder attached to the veins on his arm.

Dumbledore sighed. "It's too early to tell, Mr Malfoy. We're not even sure what poison he has taken. If he does recover, we have no way of telling if he recovers fully there could well be some side-effects."

Draco's eyes went wide, and he kept them glued on Harry. "S-side effects?" He whispered.

"Indeed. But time will tell. The best we can do just now is look after him, and hope for the best." Dumbledore replied.

"I must stay here. I have to wait for him to wake up…" Draco blurted out in a strangled cry as he dived into the seat next to Harry's bed.

"No, Draco." Dumbledore said softly, walking over to the seat. "Mr Potter is being transported to a private room. You are being placed in another next door. I don't think you realise how ill *you* are, Mr Malfoy."

Draco closed his eyes and allowed, for the first time, himself to feel the effects of the past 24 hours wash over him. He felt drained.

"Yes." He whispered, his eyes still closed. "Thank you, Professor."

~~~+~~~

TBC