Title: Vinculum

Date: July 18, 2004

By: NinjaBubble (L. King)

Warnings: SPOILERS (for #5 – Order of the Phoenix)

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Breakthroughs

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, knowing that his confusion was showing on his face and wishing it wouldn't. But he still didn't understand. Malfoy made fun of Hagrid when he was going to get fired, he made fun of Neville and Harry for doing poorly in potions, he definitely did not like the way that Dumbledore ran Hogwarts, and he spoke down viciously to people who were not of pure blood. So why would Harry having nightmares effect whether Malfoy made fun of him having nightmares?

Malfoy sighed and shook his head, at least that was the Malfoy that Harry knew. "If somebody actually died, I wouldn't make fun of them Potter," he said after a minute. "Pureblood, Mudblood, Muggle, it wouldn't matter, I wouldn't make fun of death." He looked up again and shrugged. "Like you understand any of this," he said with an expulsion of breath that made a soft 'puh' noise.

Harry didn't know what to do. He was interested in hearing what the other had to say, but he felt like an idiot just standing there, towel around his waist; not that sitting down would be all that much better; and it would look even more bizarre if he slid into the bath again. He was still confused, but he felt that he understood some of what Malfoy was trying to tell him, he just didn't know how to explain it either. "No, go on," he urged.

"I'm not like my father," Malfoy said. "I don't sneer at real pain." He stopped and listened, as though having heard something. Harry paused, hearing it as well. "You should go, others will be coming in to take baths as well," the blond warned, tugging his shirt over his head before bending forward and pulling his shoes off his feet.

For a moment Harry paused and just looked at Malfoy. The other glanced up and Harry shook his head and jumped into action, grabbing his clothes and quickly sliding into them. Quickly he tossed his towels into a bin marked for them and made his way across toward the portrait. He paused when he got there, one hand on it, and turned around and caught Malfoy's eye. "You better start sneering at me before the whole school thinks you've lost your marbles," he said as he stepped through the door and into the hall. He couldn't explain why he had just given Malfoy permission to start mocking him again, but it had something to do with the fact that it was plain disturbing to have the other doing anything else.

Indeed Malfoy had been right. The school had the presence of waking up. Harry rushed to the Gryffindor common an when he opened up the portrait he was lucky to see nobody yet awake enough to be out. Breakfast didn't start for another half an hour, but he had still spent more time in the baths than he had planned due to is run-in with Malfoy. He made his way to the room at the top of the tower to wake up Ron and get his books. The thought of not waking up Ron and simply going to breakfast on his own crossed his mind, but he didn't want Ron and Hermione to think he was angry with them, or get mad at him in return. It would be safer just to wait a little while until they got up.

Forty-five minutes later Harry, Ron, and Hermione were making their way toward breakfast. Both of them had noticed the fact that he looked like he had gotten no sleep and commented on it. He told them that there had been an essay he had forgotten about and just remembered before going up to bed. Hermione gave him a frowned scowl of disapproval and Ron had told her to lay off a little. "After all, he did spend all of vacation six feet away from Malfoy, you can't expect his mind to have healed already," he said.

Oh yes, his vacation with Malfoy. By the end of Monday everybody had known the story. Harry had gotten countless sympathetic apologies, for what he didn't know; probably just the fact that he had 'endured' it all on his lonesome. Though many people sympathized, there were also the Slytherins, who seemed to think the entire thing was Harry's fault. It had not helped that Malfoy had stopped making fun of him as well, they claimed that he had done something to their precious prefect, a jinx or hex of some sort.

However, all their doubts of Malfoy were swept away that morning at breakfast when, on his way into the hall, Harry ran into Malfoy who had just been standing there talking to his friends. The blond turned around, eyes narrowed, a sneer on his lips. "Watch were you're going Potter," he scoffed. "I would have thought that glass that you wear on your face was thick enough to magnify atoms." The teens behind him laughed and whooped, celebrating the return of their leader.

"Lay off Malfoy," Ron snapped before turning Harry toward the Gryffindor table. Harry's eyes met Malfoy's for a moment before turning away completely. Though his features had been criticizing, his eyes had held a kind of neutrality, a truce. "I can't believe that git. Makes us believe we're safe and then as soon as we get use to it he suddenly springs up and attacks us." He continued muttering until they got to their table and sat down.

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and once again met Malfoy's gaze, his lips twitched up into a smile and Malfoy gave a shrug, as though to say how good he was. They turned away from each other at the same time, called away by their friends' voices.

The day passed in complete normalcy. Harry shared Potions, and Dark Arts with the other teen. In each class the blond would smirk and mutter comments about him to his minions, making them laugh and taunt Harry from across the room even. When he had been leaving the baths that morning he had been worried about having to face the verbal abuse, but it was shocking to him how little it effected him. He made his retorts and snaps as well, playing along, but that was all it was, a game. It wasn't a harsh fight any longer, it only appeared to be so to the onlookers. Only Harry and Malfoy knew better. And yet, somehow Malfoy still managed to stay away from the subject of nightmares, and Harry steered clear of the topic of Lucious, though not knowing exactly why.

Harry had another late night of studying. Once again he told his friends that he needed to make a touch up ad go ahead up to bed without him. They looked as though they were going to go, but they didn't. After a moment Harry looked up to notice two pair of intense gazes focused on him from his left side. He turned his head to face them with an innocent look on his face. "What?" He asked, trying to play it cool, calm, casual; the three C's that had suddenly become a very important part in his life.

"You've been telling us that every night Harry. How much homework do you have?" Ron asked, seeming amazed. "I mean, it is Saturday tomorrow. What happened to finishing it over the weekend?" He prodded.

From Ron's left Hermione's eyes were intent on Harry, as though trying to pull the answers out of him with her eyes, it was un-nerving. "What's wrong with me wanting to get my homework done?" Harry asked defensively. "Is there a problem with wanting to do well in my classes? Hermione is doing work al the time and you never ask her about it. Why does it have to be different for me?"

Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, mate. Hermione's been studying since the day she was born. It would be weird to see her not studying. You and I on the other hand, we always wait until last minute. I was just wondering why there was the sudden change. It doesn't seem like the normal you."

"Why do my homework habits need to be normal?" Harry asked, voice rising. "For Heaven's sake, nothing else about me is normal! So why should my homework habits? Hu?" He pressed, voice getting even louder. No doubt people in the lower bedrooms could at least hear somebody's voice, if not the words.

"Don't get mad at us Harry, we're just-" Hermione started.

Harry interrupted her loudly. "Trying to be helpful. Trying to be good friends. Trying to care," he filled in a rush. "Well, a sodding lot of good you're doing me." With a sweep of his arm half of his books fell off the table and into his bag, he piled as many others as he could into his arms and stormed off, through the portrait of the Fat Lady and into the dark halls. He stormed around for about five minutes until his arms started to ache with the weight of all of the books he was carrying. Stopping to gain his bearings he realized he was out in the middle of the castle, hours past even the seventh year's curfew, lugging around a ton of books, without his invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, or a lamp. Well, at least he could fix the last of that list right away, but he didn't. There was enough risk of getting caught without waving a glowing wand everywhere.

After a few minutes of just standing in place he decided to make his way to the prefects' bath once again that day. They were private, no cracks in portraits like there were in doors to see light through, and nobody would be in there this late. He started walking in the direction, but it seemed that whenever he came to a staircase it would move to exactly the opposite direction he wanted it to go in. Of course, he could still make it there despite the moving stairs, but as he wandered the halls every turn he made seemed to take him somewhere other than it was suppose to lead. Eventually he decided that if he couldn't make it to the baths he might as well just stop anywhere and try to get some more work done. He stepped through. Facing the door as he closed it, Harry felt chilled winter air breeze past him and he slowly pivoted around to find himself outside. Quickly he turned, but the door was gone, it was just a wall of the castle. Backing up a few meters he recognized himself to be on the opposite side than that which face the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's house.

Looking around wildly, Harry saw no door in sight. He would have to make he way around the castle toward the front in order to get in. With hope he would run into another door before there and slip inside. His books were starting to become very heavy in his arms and he wanted to just be back in the Gryffindor common, even if Hermione and Ron were still awake and waiting for him.

Setting off at a quick walk he started along the wall. The night around him seemed to be darker than normal, and a fog had moved in at some time during the night. Pausing for only a moment tapped his bag and books and took off again, his heavier possessions floating quickly behind him as he trotted along, hand gripping his wand tightly. He didn't understand why he felt so nervous, but he did know that it had something to do with the fog that had not been there twenty minutes prior. He remembered distinctly looking out a window in the common room and seeing clear skies all around the school, over the fields, forest, and lake. Not a single shimmering cloud in sight.

The fog seemed to be thickening by the minute, making Harry rush faster, a feeling of foreboding welling inside of him. He stopped dead when he heard heavy thuds approaching. Very heaving thuds. Many of them, coming directly towards him. Somehow the movement sounded familiar, but he couldn't think of what they reminded him of until he saw a huge looming shadow form in the fog. The teen started walking backwards, stumbling more like it actually, eyes hooked on the figure that was taking shape. He would have turned an run had he thought he had a chance at it. He had just remembered about his wand when the creature spoke.

"Harry Potter. Hagrid needs your help," Aragog said. He was now close enough for Harry to make out completely. Eight giant legs holding his large spider's body up. Numerous eyes stared down at him unblinking, black and unreflecting in the fog. Harry was no less afraid of him now than he had been before after hearing his fate from the thing. The creature seemed to be impatient and moved quickly forward again until he was only a meter or so away, making Harry turn his head up at an even more uncomfortable angle. "Harry Potter. Hagrid needs your help," he repeated more urgently.

The message finally seemed to get through to Harry because he blinked and stared, his features changing from that of startled alarm to confused worry. "What? Hagrid's in trouble?" He asked, regaining his composure. Now that he new it wasn't Voldermort standing in front of him he was feeling almost calm. "Where is he?"

Aragog tapped his feet in the ground, something that more likely resembled stomping and caused the ground to shudder slightly under Harry's feet. "The Forest. He was returning, but something is wrong. He fell and did not get up, he stinks of blood." He snapped his jaw feverishly. "Come. You must come quickly." He moved around behind Harry and started walking forward, as though to rush the boy along the grounds. "I would have brought him myself, but I fear to move him. Hagrid has always treated me well, and I do not wish to cause him any further harm."

Harry nodded and rushed forward, Aragog passed over him and led the way at a pace that made the teen start running quickly. It took a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the forest, and Harry bounded into it after Aragog unthinkingly. Considering the way that Hagrid had come back from his last mission for the Order, the possibility of him being seriously injured was very real. Following the loud stomps of the spider ahead of him, Harry ran further, not even paying attention to where he was going. He trusted that Aragog would lead him and Hagrid back to the edge once they found the man and Harry figured out a way to transport him.

As they ran deeper another kind of chill started creeping through Harry. They were too deep. Hagrid wouldn't have risked going through the whole forest if he was so injured, he wouldn't risk drawing the less friendly of creatures to him if he were bleeding. Though he may be a sucker for a dangerous animal, Hagrid was not completely stupid when it came to them. Harry started looking around, his stomach twisting as he realized that he didn't recognize an inch of what was around him. He felt like he was in one of his nightmares and he went so far as to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn't. The pinch hurt.

He looked around again as he ran, and then up at where Aragog was somewhere in front of him. Why hadn't the spider asked him to get Dumbledore? Or Madam Pomfrey? It must have known them from the time Hagrid had him in the school. But he had asked for him, Harry Potter. He had insistently said Harry's full name twice to get him to come. Something didn't feel right and he slowed down, allowing the crashing of Aragog pound on ahead. Soon the sound of the spider was all together gone, leaving Harry alone, in the too- dark night, with fog invading even the space between the trees, and silence surrounding him. None of it bode well for him.

Moving around in circles, trying to look everywhere at once, Harry considered cutting himself. With hope the smell of his blood would attract the thestrals and he would then be able to catch a quick, safe, reliable ride back to the castle. However, he didn't know if the horses wandered so deep into the forest. In fact, he didn't know any of the animals that might live so deep and that might be attracted to the scent as well. Still gripping his wand he bent down and started looking closely at the ground, his eyes scanning intensely until he figured out the direction he had entered from.

He would head back and get Dumbledore, tell him what Aragog had told him and then would let the man decide the possibility. For once he did not feel like going any further on to be hero, especially considering the fact that he did not believe he would be playing hero. He stood to head back, hoping that the presumed Aragog had taken him in a straight line, and stopped dead. A man in a long, black cloak; with slicked back, long blond hair stood in front of him.

Lucious Malfoy, out from Azkaban, and his lips were curved upward in a disturbing smirk.

"Hello Harry."

tbc...