Chapter Eleven - Of Confinement, China cups and Cuddles
Neither Harry or Malfoy returned to their lessons before lunchtime. Malfoy had been discharged from the hospital wing and had been told of Dumbledore's experiment. Needless to say, he was furious. After much threatening of contacting his father and sacking every teacher responsible for this 'outrage', Malfoy gave in and reluctantly returned to the dungeons, made space for Harry and headed off to collect him. Meanwhile, Harry sat on his bed, slowly packing away and thinking about the overall outcome of the experiment, if it worked. Despite feeling confident that the plan to guide Malfoy in the right direction was a good one, Harry had a thousand doubts in his head, the main one being that Malfoy could hand Harry over to Voldemort at any time. When he heard a few Gryffindors enter the common room, Harry remembered how Dumbledore had stated one evening that fourth, fifth and sixth years were to spend the extra hour of lunch studying wherever they wish. This was to boost their confidence and abilities for the upcoming exams.
"Okay, trunk - check; cage - check; informing Ron and Hermione - oh..." Harry sighed, dragging his belongings down to the common room.
"Were you expelled, Harry?" Hermione gasped, peering out from her book.
"No, although I'm near it," Harry admitted. "It's a new experiment Dumbledore wants to try."
"Which is...?" Ron asked, perturbed.
"I have to share Malfoy's sleeping quarters with him until we become 'friends' and make 'peace' with one another," Harry explained.
"Malfoy has his own sleeping quarters? Spoilt son of a-"
"But what about your lessons?" Hermione persisted.
"Dumbledore said he would explain everything to both me and Malfoy when I arrive at Malfoy's quarters," Harry mumbled.
"Well, I'm sure it's for the best," Hermione muttered, burying her head in her book. Ron continued to look both dazed and infuriated.
Harry struggled with his belongings, feeling very annoyed that neither Ron or Hermione were bothering to help him. Ron still sat there, gaping at Harry as if he were crazy.
"Are you actually doing this?" he said stupidly.
"I have to, otherwise it's back to the Dursley's," Harry cried, but added under his breath; "Moron."
When he had dumped his stuff outside into the corridor, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, who were both preoccupied. He had said 'see you later' about twenty times, but neither one seemed to be listening. Losing his temper quickly, Harry jumped outside and gathered his things.
"Don't miss me too much, idiots!" he yelled, descending the stairs slowly.
When Harry arrived at the dungeons, he was in a very foul mood. While he had been heading downstairs, he had tripped on the invisible stair. Fair enough, he accepted his mistake. However, when Peeves had dumped a bottle of ink on his head, Harry began to feel enraged and hexed a mocking painting in fury as he rid his hair of ink with a simple cleaning charm. To make things worse, he proceeded to trip on an upturned rug right in front of Cho and her giggly gang, who merely snorted with laughter (Cho an exception, she miserably glared at him). Just when Harry was ready to scream at the top of his voice, Colin Creevey bounced around the corner and clicked away with his camera, causing Harry to be blinded and to stumble and fall - right on top of Malfoy.
"Potter! Get off me!" Malfoy shrieked.
Harry tried to get up but it was no use - they had become entangled with one another. He thrashed about, trying to break free. Colin went wild, beside himself with glee for getting the opportune moment to snap some good photos.
"Mmm mmmm mmmm," Harry mumbled, getting a mouthful of robes.
"What?" Malfoy hissed, his face a deep crimson.
"Use y-your wand," Harry panted, struggling madly.
"I don't know the spell for disentangling people, Potter," Malfoy murmured.
"Expelliarmus," Harry groaned. Expelliarmus was the charm to disarm people of their wands, but since it was so powerful, it also forced people apart. "Use expelliarmus."
"Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's voice had turned unusually deep.
Harry soon realised Snape had turned around the corner. The two boys flung apart, each one pinned against opposite walls. Snape looked at Harry disdainfully, a malevolent sparkle in his eyes.
"Starting fights again, Potter? What, too famous to disregard Dumbledore's direct orders?" Snape spat, his eye level equal to Harry's. "Well I'll make sure Dumbledore hears of this... he won't be pleased at all."
"It was my fault!" Malfoy said involuntarily. He clamped a hand around his mouth, aware of what he had said.
"What?" Snape said disbelievingly.
Malfoy sighed impatiently, annoyed at himself. "It was my fault. I - I was practising my charms, and I guess I hit Potter - and we got tangled up. We weren't fighting - we were struggling."
Snape snarled, displeased at the fact it hadn't been Harry's fault. He mumbled at Malfoy to be more careful and stalked off, muttering about the inanity of pupils nowadays.
"Thanks, Malfoy," he mumbled, nodding gratefully.
"So you sh- ... No problem, Potter," Malfoy grumbled.
They stared blankly at each other, green into grey, both conscious that they had just been noticeably civil since their time at Hogwarts. It felt weird that only a few hours ago, Harry had been strangling Malfoy, wishing he would die. He certainly didn't wish that now.
"Sorry about earlier," he confessed. "But you know, you shouldn't have said that it was my fault. You don't know how many sleepless nights I've had, thinking the same thing. Everyone tried to convince me it wasn't my fault, but I guess they couldn't persuade me to believe otherwise. Now, my worst enemy so kindly pointed out that it was my fault that Sirius died and that he received the information second hand from Voldemort's chums."
Malfoy looked slightly taken aback for a moment, his eyes round with surprise, his mouth open slightly.
"You said his name!" he said, bemused. "I'm your worst enemy?" Malfoy's shoulders drooped considerably and he gazed through half-shut eyes at Harry, smiling weakly. Harry found it incredibly endearing.
"But of course. We've hated each other for, ooh, about six years? All because I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin," Harry said, although he was grinning slightly.
"Actually, no," Malfoy corrected him, smirking. "You chose the Weasel over me, Draco Malfoy. Then it was a matter of House differences. Plus, you're The Ponce Who Lived."
Harry laughed out loud, and began to wonder if there was some sort of spell on him - the tables of his life were forever turning, his viewpoint of Malfoy forever changing. Malfoy remained smug for a moment, but eased up a little and chuckled quietly. Harry thought everything was beginning to be okay when Blaise Zabini turned the corner - and Malfoy edged away from Harry, a familiar scowl on his face.
"Alright, Draco," Blaise nodded. "What are you doing down here?" He glared at Harry.
"I have to hand in extra homework for Snape," Harry said stupidly, causing Malfoy to groan loudly.
"Oh really," Blaise said sarcastically. "and I suppose that's why you have all your stuff with you, and that the Potions corridor is way back there?"
"Okay," Harry began. Malfoy held his breath. "I'm being suspended. I was leaving Snape's office, and I guess I took a wrong turn."
Blaise laughed cruelly in Harry's face, shoving him backwards. "Good riddance, eh Malfoy? We won't have to hear from the-boy-who-just-won't-die for a few weeks."
Malfoy muttered in agreement, continuing along the path towards the Slytherin common room, quickening his pace. Blaise had wandered off, chuckling loudly. Struggling to keep up with Malfoy and hold all his things at once, Harry called out to the swift blonde dragon.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Potter," Malfoy wheeled around to face him. "We can't be too chummy in public - people will call me names."
"Oh, okay," Harry murmured sadly, remembering their shared laughter from a moment ago.
"DRACO! Oh, Dray!" Pansy shrieked, scampering towards him.
Harry thought quickly and hid around a corner, slyly watching as Pansy draped herself around Malfoy's slim body, cooing in his ear and running a finger up and down his chest. He looked only mildly disgusted as he shoved her away.
"Not now, Pansy. I have things to do," Malfoy said angrily, stalking straight past the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "See you later."
Harry waited until Pansy had stomped off huffily before darting up to Malfoy, who had arrived at a very strange, yet familiar looking door. As Malfoy ran a finger down the locks, Harry's memory was triggered and he remembered this door was similar to those used at the wizard bank Gringott's. Seeing Harry's face of intrigue, Malfoy smiled smugly.
"Father got it for me. It's to stop unwanted people getting in. If they attempt to open it, they get sucked into an old broom closet and are locked in until I check on them," he grinned, his eyes glittering with malice.
Harry also remembered that the goblin at the bank had told him a similar story, and that he checked the vaults every ten years or so.
"How often do you check?" he asked nervously.
"Oh, every day," Malfoy sighed. "Pansy is in there all the time. Sometimes, Crabbe and Goyle are too."
"That doesn't surprise me," Harry mumbled, making Malfoy giggle softly.
As they stepped in, Malfoy took a grand step aside and pulled a daft face, waving his arm around majestically.
"Welcome to my boudoir," he said flamboyantly.
Harry gaped at the vast display of silver and green. A mahogany four poster bed stood proudly in the centre of the room, displaying the same crushed green velvet and silver satin that had been in the Manor. There was a vast dresser near the fireplace, bulging with the clothes within. Malfoy was obviously very fashion conscious. There were two doors on the right side of the room and Harry assumed they led to a bathroom and a small kitchenette. The fireplace itself was not lit, however Malfoy muttered a few words and the room was soon thrown into pale orange light as it danced and flickered merrily. Just in front of the fireplace were two small velvet green seats, and Malfoy flopped down into one, sighing heavily.
"Rough day?" Harry grinned.
"Like you wouldn't believe," Malfoy snorted, sneering slightly. "Well, take a seat. Dumbledore will send us an owl in a moment."
Harry and Malfoy sat in comfortable silence, gazing intently at the blazing fire. Malfoy, who was slumped slightly in his chair, appeared to be thinking deeply. His eyes were glazed over, his lips were pursed and he laid his head onto one hand. When he smiled, Harry recognised it as the same smile from the train. The innocent, angelic smile playing on Malfoy's lips seemed so surreal that Harry found himself staring at Malfoy unintentionally.
"What?" Malfoy said warily. "Is my hair a mess? Is there something on my robes?"
"No," Harry replied, laughing. "You're such a dolt, Dray."
"Don't call me that! Only Pansy can call me that," Malfoy snapped irritably. "Why were you staring at me, anyway?"
"Evil can be appealing at times," Harry chuckled, swerving his gaze back to the fire.
There was a tapping on the window, and Fawkes stood there eagerly, clutching a note in his beak. Malfoy sprang up and grabbed the letter, letting Fawkes go again with muttered gratitude. He opened up the letter and began to read it aloud.
Dear Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy,
As I explained to both of you, the whole point of this test is for you to call a truce and become friends. I am sure you do not want your harmless school foes to become deadly enemies later in life.
You will attend lessons as usual and will both report to Mr. Malfoy's room upon completion of the school day. Mr. Potter, I daresay you will want to spend some time with your friends, as Mr. Malfoy will want to be alone with his friends too, so I will allow you to sit at your House table for meals, and for meals only. Any Hogsmeade visits or study sessions will be done together.
For means of entertainment, I will send along some Gobstones, Wizard's chess and Exploding Snap. However, while speaking to a few Professors it has become clear to me that you may help each other excel in certain subjects. Mr. Malfoy, your Defence Against the Dark Arts grade can be improved slightly, as can Mr. Potter's Potions grade. I will also request that you are partners in all the classes you are in together, this is to promote a good image to other people in other Houses so they may do the same.
I will require an owl each day, roughly outlining your progress. You will take it in turns to write me an owl or if you wish, you can both send me a letter. Decide with each other what is best. After five weeks, your task should be complete. I hope that you soon see the best in each other.
Good luck,
Professor Dumbledore.
"Well, it sounds... pretty boring," Harry admitted.
"Boring is an understatement," Malfoy groaned. "Why can't we just say we're best buddies to get it over and done with?"
"Dumbledore can read through those kind of lies, Malfoy," Harry said grimly.
"Oh," Malfoy sounded disappointed.
Neither one of them spoke for a minute as they mulled over what Dumbledore had said. They were going to be in close proximity with each other for a really long time. Surely this would drive them crazy? Harry suddenly realised that he was very thirsty. The heat of the fire had made him parched.
"Malfoy, can I get a drink?" Harry asked, shifting in his chair.
"Hmm? Oh, sure. Tea?" Malfoy said. Harry nodded. He watched as Malfoy slowly rose from his chair and shuffled through another door that led to a small kitchen area. Harry followed him with interest.
"You really have it going for you, don't you?" Harry said admirably.
"Mmm," Malfoy muttered, pottering about.
"What do you mean, 'mmm'? I still have to share a dorm room with four other boys! Count yourself lucky!" Harry snorted.
There was a loud smash as Malfoy threw the china cups he was using at the opposite wall, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his face flushed. He swung around to face Harry.
"I - am - not - lucky," he whispered, his body trembling slightly. "You - you have NO idea. What's happened to me... it's not nice."
Malfoy stomped over to the broken china and scooped it up carelessly, cutting his fingers. The blood trickled down his hands as he set the blue china onto the sideboards, gently beginning to piece the cups back together.
"Why are you doing that?" Harry asked quietly, breaking the silence.
"My grandmother gave me these cups when I was little. She used to have tea parties with me," Malfoy muttered, and Harry smiled weakly, pushing any cruel jokes to the back of his head. "When she died, everyone just forgot about her, it was like she never existed. No one told me for days, and when I found out, I cried. Father hit me and told me not to be such a weakling. So, I stopped bereaving, stored the china cups away, and focused on more important things. It was only when I was packing furniture for my new quarters that I came across them. I remembered my grandmother and the parties we had. I remembered how I just dismissed those memories, just because I wanted to be a strong little boy. I... I didn't mean to smash the cups, I didn't..."
He kept his back to Harry, but Harry could clearly see his shoulders shaking. Small sobs escaped Malfoy's lips, and he furiously wiped at his tears with his robes and hiccoughed several times. It was amazing to see that someone with such a vile public image could be so frail. Harry could tell Malfoy didn't want him to see him like this, for he knew that meant Harry had discovered Malfoy's 'Achilles' heel' - his weak point. As he watched Malfoy gradually fix the cups together like jigsaws, waves of emotion swept through Harry. So Malfoy knew what it was like to lose someone close to him, someone special. He had lost his grandmother, just as Harry had lost Sirius. Then it clicked. Maybe this was a link to Malfoy's big problem in the summer.
Right now, it was clear Malfoy needed someone. Without thinking, Harry walked up to Malfoy and hugged him from behind. Malfoy stiffened, but Harry continued to hug him, stroking Malfoy's chest with his fingers. He could feel Malfoy struggle slightly but he didn't let go. Eventually, Malfoy gave in and turned to hug Harry properly. What was meant to be a mere gesture of comfort turned into something a lot more deeper as both boys slowly caressed each other, Malfoy still slightly rigid. Pale skin contrasted with tan as they both nuzzled softly into each others cheeks, while Harry found Malfoy's hands and entwined them with his own. He felt tingles of excitement rush up and down his fingers, and jolts rush through his heart when Malfoy smiled to himself, one of his secret smiles.
As they locked eyes, Malfoy's own grew wide with realisation. He was grasping onto Harry's hands desperately. It didn't feel right. He broke the connection with Harry abruptly and turned around, picking up where he left off with the china cups. Harry stood in a daze of confusion as he fumbled with his hands, tracing where Malfoy's fingers had been. Why, why had he just cut off like that? Feeling put down, Harry silently left the kitchenette and locked himself in the bathroom.
Malfoy, who had realised he had been trying to fix the cups the muggle way, sighed, raised his wand and muttered the mending spell, Reparo. Still oblivious to the absence of Harry's presence, Malfoy began preparing the tea.
"One lump or two?"