Second Chances
Harry took a deep breath and focused his eyes on the fireplace before his chair.
"I think I should leave now." Draco said softly, standing and retreating to the portrait entrance.
Harry bit his lip and said nothing.
"It's gone, the door's gone." Draco's voice carried back in disbelief.
Harry's head jerked up in surprise, he glanced at the clock over the mantle and shook his head. He half laughed and looked back at Draco, "It's eight o'clock. The portrait seals at eight and doesn't open until seven the next morning. Dumbldore says I should be thankful for the hour of free time he allows me after dinner. I had forgotten…." he trailed off, his eyes misting over, he turned away.
"You're locked in? You mean that old geezer actually locks you in your room at night?" Draco muttered angrily.
"He says it's in my best interest, to keep me safe, in everyone's best interest," Harry replied softly, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm, "I'm not allowed to talk to anyone outside the order, I can't go outside the castle, I must study all my lessons twice along with completing the extra lessons assigned by the headmaster…." ,he trailed off for a moment before whispering softly, his voice laden with suppressed grief, "What I want doesn't matter, what I need doesn't matter. I must always put the fate of humanity above myself, I am just a tool to be welded and the hand that holds me or destroys me, in Voldemort's case, will be the victor."
Draco returned, standing behind the chair across from Harry, he watched Harry for a moment in silence, the firelight dancing in his eyes.
"….I'm sorry." Draco said, averting his eyes.
Harry smiled and tried to catch Draco's eyes, when finally Draco turned to look at Harry he found the raven haired boy staring at him with startling intensity. He couldn't stop his feelings and his face burned, he knew he was flushing and he wished more than anything he wasn't but then again, Harry already knew, there was nothing to hide and only the shame remained.
Draco had wished for anything over what had been given to him, he had begged gods he didn't believe in and fates that surly couldn't exist but it had yielded nothing. What could possibly be crueler than to fall in love with your enemy? To fall in love at all was a great weakness that couldn't be afforded in his father's eyes but, with Potter? May the gods forgive his very existence for that sin. He had fought it off at first or tried to. He had tried to twist it and put it to his advantage, to deceive Harry, but the thought of hurting Harry hurt even more than pretending that he had no feelings for the boy. Every time they met in the halls, every mocking word and tactless insult hurt him more than the one it was aimed at. For every time he said something that truly hurt Potter, the pain and anger shone through his eyes, it was like struck himself with every blow.
Draco had even taken to avoiding Harry when ever possible and those few times that he had found himself in proximity to Harry he would turn up his nose and brush by him as if he were superior and it hurt. It all hurt and it should for it went against everything he had been taught and the most importantly it took away his control.
Draco needed to be in control, he thrived on it. He controlled his life, his friends, and through magic he could manipulate his very environment to suit him. Harry had been the one thing that he had never been able to control and that was the one thing that irked him most of all. From the moment that Harry refused his friendship on the train he had lost control. From there it had only become worse, he tried to force Harry down with insults and tactless tricks but Harry met his words and pushed back. Then Draco had fallen in love, with his enemy. He hadn't known what the feeling was at first and that in itself bothered him but when he couldn't control it and suppressing it seemed to only amplify it, he felt himself losing the most important thing he could imagine at the time. He was losing control of himself. It was one thing to not be able to control Potter but to lose control of his feelings and his mind, even his body. It almost drove him mad, perhaps it succeeded.
Then came the night that he gave up. He quit trying to fight it and in giving into it he found something both wonderful and horrid. By allowing himself to be in love he gained back control to some extent but then found that it only hurt more. So he fell in love with his enemy and accepted it but it changed nothing about how his enemy felt, it changed nothing about what was expected of them, how they were supposed to treat each other, to be enemies. That's when he wrote the letter. He tried to throw it away so many times, knowing the danger of someone finding it but he couldn't. Once he threw it into the fire but broke before the parchment had even caught very well he reached back into the fire, burning his hand and arm, to retrieve it. It was the only proof he had of his feelings, the only solid evidence that everyday wasn't a bitter dream with little in it to sweeten it.
Now here I stand, Draco thought darkly, locked in the same room with my enemy who knows everything, what I feel for him. The only thing worse than the cruelty or blackmail he could impose upon me would be pity or disgust.
So Draco stood, unable to break his gave from Harry's wondering desperately what he would do, what he was thinking, forcing himself to remain calm, to try and still the diminutive tremors slipping through his body and keep his legs from giving out from under him.
"What are you thinking?" Harry asked, breaking the silence so suddenly it fell brutally.
"That you hate me." Draco replied, unwilling to tell him anything more.
Harry shook his head, "I don't hate you….I don't know how I feel about you."
"Are you going to blackmail me?" Draco asked apprehensively
"No." Harry answered flatly.
"You think I'm disgusting, you pity me." Draco nervously swallowed down the bile churning I his throat.
"No."
"Why?!" Draco demand, gripping the back of the chair until his fingers turned white, he now leaned most of his weight upon the chair to keep upright and felt cold, "I've done nothing to gain your kindness! I've insulted you, your family and your friends! I hurt you and mock you! My father is a deatheater and I have done nothing to prove otherwise! All you have is a single bloody love letter and you suddenly forgive me?!"
Irrational anger took the place of fear and embarrassment. He struck out because he felt threatened and it was the only thing he knew how to do. All the while his mind cried in anguish because he killed every possible hope in his being. There was no possibility of a future with Harry in it. How could there be? How could the boy even consider it after all the things Draco had done?
"I don't know why! Do I have to have a reason?!" Harry snapped back, standing up from his chair, "I can't even talk to my best friends anymore unless it's in classes and that's disruptive or during meals and it's too loud and I have to try and eat at the same time or starve! I have no one! Is it so difficult for you to accept that there isn't a reason? We're stuck here together here for a single night, can't we talk like civilized human beings, pretend that we don't hate each other?!" Harry shouted in frustration, gesturing angrily at the wavering Draco.
He stopped as a line of blood escaped Draco's mouth and slipped down his chin from where he had bitten his lip; he noticed how pale Draco was, "Malfoy, sit down for gods sake before you pass out!" He reached out and grabbed Draco's arm to support him to a chair but Draco slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch me!" He snapped, pushing himself off the chair to face Harry.
Harry grabbed the front of Draco's shirt and pulled him to himself, their mouths met and Draco found himself being kissed deeply, gently by the one he thought would never even give him the time of day. They parted slowly, Harry backing away until he ran into the chair behind him and he could taste Draco's blood in his mouth.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking…" Harry said softly.
Draco slipped around the chair and sat heavily, his fingers went to his lips, he looked up at Harry. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Draco who took it mechanically and wiped the blood from his chin. They sat in silence, the clock on the mantle ticking softly and the popping fire the only noise in the room.
Draco kept his eyes on his lap, tugging at Harry's handkerchief crumpled on his hand. Across from him Harry sat with his eyes to the fire.
Harry could feel his heart racing, he wasn't sure what had happened to be honest. One minute he simply wished to help Draco to a chair and then when Draco had slapped his hand away, Harry could see his sharp grey eyes and the way his hair fell. He wondered what it would be like to touch that pale porcelain skin, to kiss him. He had wanted to know what it would feel like, if he could feel for Draco the way he claimed to have felt for him. Perhaps he could blame it all on loneliness or desperation for any kind of human affection. Whatever the reason, he kissed Draco and he had liked it. It was strange and left behind it a warmth in the pit of his stomach that fluttered like the way he had felt when he had had that crush on Cho. One thing for sure he felt no regret or disgust and watching Draco sitting, his face pale, hands clenched, it hurt Harry though it had no reason to.
Draco could still feel Harry's lips against his own. He felt as if he would die. He had never felt this way before. The love that he experienced before had only been filled with pain and the knowledge that his love would come to nothing and it would probably be better that way. Now he had hope, how ever dislocated.
Harry sighed and looked at Draco, the fire dancing off his hair like spun silk, he stood up and gently helped him to his feet and led him to the bed.
"What?…" Draco said softly, resisting slightly.
Harry smiled, hesitantly, "It's my fault you're stuck here so I offer you my bed. You look like you're going to drop over any second. It won't kill me to sleep in the chair and I won't take no for an answer."
Draco sat on the edge of the bed in defeat and slowly removed his shoes. Harry was about to return to the fireside when Draco grabbed his sleeve and held him back, "You could share the bed with me." Harry turned back to look at Draco. Draco's eyes remained averted to the bedspread, his face flushed bright red.
Harry nodded, cautiously. When the fire had been banked and the room was dark, the two of them lying as far as physically possible from each other on the small bed. Draco's breathing had long since deepened into sleep and Harry had turned carefully to face him. He watched in silence, the slow rise and fall of Draco's chest, the flutter of his eyelids caught in dreams unknown. Harry wondered silently what was happening to him. Could it be possible that he was falling in love with Draco? He didn't know and before he could think anymore on it he was claimed by sleep.
The morning broke over Harry and a glance at the clock show that he was late for breakfast and if he didn't hurry he wouldn't get anything to eat till lunch. Halfway through dressing he remembered the night before and stopped. Draco had left already, his shoes gone, nothing left to even prove that he had been there. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted a piece of parchment lying on his bedside table. He went over to the table and picked it up, the parchment crisp in his hand. He instantly recognized the elegant script as Draco's and smiled to himself.
Harry,
You ask me if I love you,
and I ask myself how to begin
to share with you
the feelings in my heart.
You inspire in me
a love so deep,
words cannot describe it,
so powerful that it overwhelms
my every thought.
You ask me if I love you,
and I wish there were a way
you could just see into my soul
and find the depth of passion
tenderness, and love
that holds you close
to my heart
than anyone or anything else.
You ask me if I love you,
and I look into the magic
of your eyes and promise,
"Yes, I love you…
and I always will." **
Draco
Harry sighed and smiled. He felt the flutter in his stomach return and knew that nothing would ever be the same again because he was falling in love Draco Malfoy.
**poem by Jeannie Hund