Chapter 11Hiding and Revelations

Harry slept for the rest of that day and night, waking extremely hungry at around 6 in the morning. He groaned, feeling a throbbing in his head. Madame Pomfrey bustled over and gave him some tonic and prepared breakfast for him, clucking to herself the whole time.

"Don't know why he expects the boy to be able to leave today, he's obviously unwell. Not allowing himself to heal because the pain inside is too great, these things take time. And when I try to tell him, he fobs me off with a twinkling smile and a 'have I ever given you reason to doubt me?' Well, you have now."

Harry suppressed a small smile; although he had no idea what Madame Pomfrey was talking about, he was slightly amused by her muttering. He began eating hungrily and almost choked when she spoke to him.

"You'll be leaving the hospital wing today, Potter. Merlin knows I've tried to tell Dumbledore that you're not fit to leave bed, but he won't listen. He lives up to his nickname, these days."

And what nickname is that? Harry wondered, but did not speak. Madame Pomfrey answered the question anyway, sensing his questioning gaze. They had developed an understanding in the time Harry had been here.

"Crackpot old fool, they call him. I must say he is acting like one at the moment."

Harry sank back down into the bed, feeling at once uninterested in his food, his surroundings and the one-sided conversation and sensing another wave of depression coming on. He rarely had relief from the depression, but Madame Pomfrey could usually distract him for a while. He was just about to try to get some more sleep, feeling disinclined to do anything else, when the door to the hospital opened and a cheery Dumbledore walked in.

"Good morning, Poppy. I'm here for Harry."

Harry stared questioningly at Dumbledore, but Dumbledore ignored him.

"Well, since there's no way I can persuade you otherwise-" Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips – "you may take him."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said, turning to Harry. "Now, Harry, do you feel up to a bit of a walk?" Harry nodded, wondering vaguely if his legs would support him after all this time.

Madame Pomfrey gave him a quick hug. "If you need anything, you come straight to me, do you understand?" Harry nodded again.

Dumbledore ushered him out of the hospital wing. Harry leaned on Dumbledore for support, and they made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"Now, Harry, I have some news for you." Dumbledore began once Harry was seated with a lemon drop in his mouth.

Harry inclined his head to show his understanding.

"As you know, the escaped Death Eaters are still loose. I believe there are 9 of them in total who remain uncaptured. It is my belief that they are planning to find you and kill you, in revenge. I have decided, that the best way to avoid an attack on the school is to put you in hiding. I will be the only person who knows your whereabouts, but it will be generally known throughout the wizarding community that you are not at Hogwarts."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, disbelieving. Dumbledore was going to lock him up, Dumbledore was sending him away, for the safety of the school.

"You're sending me away?" He choked.

"Indeed not. You will be staying in the Room of Requirement. I will place a charm on the room, making it impossible for anyone to get in, or out of the room, for three months. I do not think it will take any longer than that for the Death Eaters to be caught."

"I will be alone for three months?" Harry asked, completely nonplussed. He would die of depression and loneliness.

"No, certainly not, Harry. But this brings me to something that I do not wish to discuss with you. I will let your companion explain everything," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry nodded, unsmiling. Yet again, Dumbledore chose to keep him in the dark. Would he never learn?

"Uh… Professor?" Harry choked back a sob, "I don't think I can go in there."

They were standing outside the door to the Room of Requirement and the memory of a particularly loving and passionate encounter between Harry and Draco in the Room of Requirement was threatening to reduce Harry to a wailing pile of mush on the floor.

"Harry, I'm afraid you have no choice. But I daresay you will not be displeased. See you in three months." Dumbledore said, squeezing Harry's shoulder as he opened the door and pushed Harry inside. Harry never heard him close the door behind him, never heard him mutter the charm, never heard him walking off, whistling happily.

He was distracted by the only other occupant of the room. A pale boy with white-blond hair and silver-grey eyes had just stood up from a couch.

"D-D-D-Dra-c-co?" Harry stuttered, feeling an insufferable surge of emotions overcome him. Firstly he was overwhelmed with joy, but it quickly turned to disbelief, and a heart wrenching sorrow overcame him as he realised that they boy could not possibly be real. He was a figment of Harry's imagination; if Harry reached out to touch him, he would dissipate into the air, just as his Patronus did when he tried to touch it. He slid down the door, landing forcefully on the stone floor.

"Why?" He choked in between sobs. "Why did you have to die, and why do you now have to torture me like this? It's bad enough knowing you're dead, but to have my imagination conjure you up? I can't cope. Please, go away." Harry sniffed, closing his eyes tightly and hoping that when he opened them he would be alone.

Harry jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and caught his breath in his throat. Draco was sitting in front of him, more beautiful than Harry remembered. His soft blond hair fell over his eyes, the eyes that never failed to make Harry forget to breathe. Harry realised that Draco was crying, and reached a shaky hand forward to brush away the tears.

When his hand touched Draco's cheek, several things happened. He felt a jolt of electricity course through him – the effect of touching his Dragon. Both he and Draco sucked in breath, and then Draco let out a soft, "Harry."

Harry, too scared to move his hand incase it was not real, just sat there, staring at Draco in disbelief.

After what seemed like hours of just staring into each other's eyes, Draco looked away from Harry, moving his hand up to cover Harry's.

"Harry, please forgive me… You must… I – I only wanted to help you, I didn't – I guess I didn't think it through properly. I hoped that they'd all be caught, then none of this would have happened. Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" Draco sobbed, launching himself into Harry's arms.

"Is it really you?" Harry whispered, stroking Draco's hair. Draco pulled away, sniffing and rubbed the tears away from his eyes.

"Yes, it's really me. I've been here all the time, Harry. I have a long story to tell you." Draco said, standing up and reaching his hand out to Harry's. Harry took it and Draco led him to the couch, where they sat.

So there you go! Keep reading to find out what REALLY happened at the battle.

Xxxx

Mac