Dude. I love you guys. I was just joking with one of my friends, saying, "I shouldn't update for like, three weeks, just to prolong the wait." But how can I when you all asked so nicely? So, here I bring you another chapter. I promise not to ramble as much this time as I did in the last post lol, so I'll just go ahead and thank the reviewers (and there were many more than before! THANK YOU!) :)
Immortal Tears of - Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough ;)
Hatch - I love you!
M'Lady - No matter how much Harry thinks he's learned self-control, Draco will always be there to push him too far. And you're right, Draco's very effortless about it. Oh, I love Draco, haha.
Faded Glitter - Yay! I'm glad I've got you hooked. My evil plan is working! ...juuuust kidding ;)
tita-kun - Thank you so much! Oh, if you advertised my story, I think I'd marry you. And trust me, Draco has a lot more interesting things to say after this!
Klo - Thank you! I'm very, very glad that you don't find Draco to sound OOC. I was actually really worried about that, because I am trying to make people (and Harry) see another side of him, or rather a side that has been supressed, but was really there all along. Oh, and there will be some snoggage. It'll just take them a little bit to do it. They're silly boys, after all!
Abi - Thank you!!
melissar2112 - Harry will remain confused for a while. But that's okay, he'll eventually see what he needs to do. And thank you for your comments! As I said to Klo, I really do worry that I'm making them sound out of character, because that has always been a peeve of mine when reading fiction... so it's a great relief that I'm keeping them true to character! Thanks again!!
And now... the story! :)
Chapter 5
I told the truth for what it's worth
And now I'll slip away
Harry stared at Draco for a few moments. He wasn't positive if he had heard him correctly.
"Please don't be shitting me," Harry pleaded. This case was far too important, far too personal. Draco sighed.
"You don't have to trust me. But I'm coming clean, so you better write this down because I don't plan to repeat it," Draco said. Harry quickly took a seat behind his desk, opening his folder and pulling out a piece of parchment. He opened a desk drawer on the top-left and pulled out a bottle of ink and a quill.
"All right, Malfoy. I'm listening," Harry said, dipping the quill into the ink and placing it against the parchment. Draco sat silently for almost a whole minute. Harry wondered if Draco really had anything important to tell him, or if he was just finding new ways to grate his nerves after all these years. Finally, Draco spoke.
"I killed him," he said. Harry had begun to write, and then scratched his quill against the parchment, tearing it. His eyes shot up at Draco.
"What?" he asked, although it was more of a demand.
"Potter, I said I don't plan to repeat myself," Draco spat. "Don't make me do it again. I killed him. He was Nott Jugson. If you'd check your files, you'll see that he wasn't confirmed to be dead." Harry eyed Draco warily before pulling out the parchment with the names of all the known Death Eaters. Draco was right–Jugson's name had been underlined.
"You . . . " Harry said, looking back up at Draco who continued to stare at him. "You killed Nott Jugson?"
"Yes," Draco said sharply. "Now," he said, standing up and putting on his cloak, "If you'd like to report this to the Minister, I'll wait here. Do murderers still receive life in Azkaban?" Harry found himself amazed by Draco's indifference. Harry forced a reassuring smile onto his face.
"I wouldn't count on that just yet," said Harry lightly. "Would you sit down and explain what exactly happened?"
"No, I'd much rather just go to Azkaban," Draco said stiffly.
"Malfoy, I need you to tell me what happened before any sentence can be passed." Draco sat back down begrudgingly.
"Fine, but don't interrupt. Like I said, I'm not repeating anything." He challenged Harry with his eyes to argue, but Harry only nodded back. Draco sighed and muttered, "I can't believe I'm telling you this." He cleared his throat, and began his story. "All right. You were right the other day in saying that Malfoy Manor had been destroyed during the war. Everyone knows that my father was Voldemort's right-hand man, to be cliche about it. What they don't know is that I reported everything he ever told me about the Death Eaters to Dumbledore. Because of me, Voldemort murdered my father. He murdered my mother, too." Draco let out a small, strangled chuckle. "Looks like we're on the same boat, eh, Potter?" Harry remained silent. He hadn't written down anything that Draco said, almost as if he forced himself not to believe it.
"Anyway, so our manor was destroyed, my parents were killed, and our entire fortune was destroyed as well. My father was a hopeless idiot who didn't trust Gringott's, so he kept our fortune in the manor. I took whatever I had left on me and ran away. I spent several years in Paris, where I spoke hardly any French but that didn't really matter. I eventually came back to England. I traveled in and around the London area, staying with whoever would take me in, and I'd get whatever money I could. Things went all right for a while. Of course I spent some nights just walking the streets, without any place to sleep, so whenever I was able to go home with someone, I naturally jumped at the opportunity.
"I ran into Jugson about a week ago. I didn't recognize him at first. Jugson had come around the manor a few times, but not very often. I hadn't seen him since I was much younger. Anyway, he took me back to his shitty little house, and I decided fairly quickly that I didn't want to stay there. When I said this, he hit me with a wave of Unforgivables. Somehow I managed to stun him, and then recognized who he was. To make a long story short, I think you know what I did after that." Harry continued to stare at him, and he hadn't blinked since Draco began his story. And that's what Harry hoped it was–just a story. Draco Malfoy was surely not living on the streets for seven years.
"Um," Harry stammered, trying to collect his thoughts, "How did you get money to live from if your fortune was destroyed?" Draco leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow.
"How do you think?" he asked. Harry's eyes darted around the room, and he found himself feeling slightly flustered.
"Well, I don't know," said Harry. "Maybe you worked odd jobs–"
"Yes. Something like that," Draco said flatly. "I'm sure even the Boy-Who-Lived can understand that most people don't rent out their house to a stranger for nothing."
"Are you implying that you–you prostituted yourself?" Harry asked in a somewhat hushed voice.
"Look, Potter. I've told you my story, you can fill in the blanks later," Draco said, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "Now are you sending me to Azkaban or what?"
"You're not going to Azkaban," said Harry quickly. "Why do you keep insisting that you go?" Draco turned his eyes to the walls, glancing over any pictures that were in sight.
"Because it's better than living this life another day," Draco replied softly.
"Why didn't you ever ask for help?" Harry asked, the concern and empathy evident in his voice.
"I don't need anyone's pity," Draco said, as if grasping any remaining pride he had. "I dug my grave so now I'm lying in it." He turned his eyes down to his hands and continued to speak, although seemingly to himself. "You can be happy now, Potter. Once again, you've triumphed over me." Harry felt a rush of emotion come over him.
"Draco, you and I may have hated each other in school, but I'd never wish for you to go through everything you've just told me. And you may have been a prick before, but you don't deserve to live on the streets." Draco glanced up at Harry and, to Harry's surprise, began to smirk.
"You called me Draco," he said, amused. Harry paused, considering what he had just said.
"I suppose I did," Harry replied. "Um, I–I don't really know . . . Look, I have to speak with my partner about this. I'll just forewarn you though that in order for us to do anything, you'll first have to be questioned under the influence of veritaserum." Draco nodded once. Harry glanced down at his parchment and cleared his throat. "For your own safety, we'll also have to test you for any kinds of illness or disease." Draco nodded again. Harry then stood up. "Er, okay. I'll be right back, then."
Harry walked toward the door, opening it quickly and shutting it behind him. He felt slightly light-headed as he slowly ambled down the hall. Everything Draco had told him was a blur in his mind. His former enemy had become a shadow of Harry himself–parentless, a murderer, and alone. Harry was unable to recall the walk to Tonks' office while his head was so full of thoughts. Tonks greeted him with a smile, which soon faded when she saw the look of confusion and sadness on Harry's face.
"All right, Harry?" she asked him, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him into the room. Harry shook his head but did not speak. Tonks took him over to a chair across from her desk and had him sit.
"I found out who killed the Death Eater," said Harry. Tonks sat across from Harry and leaned forward, giving him her undivided attention. He swallowed hard and gave her a fleeting glance. "It was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
"What?" she asked, her eyes wide. She had evidently forgotten all about him up until this point. Harry proceeded to tell her Draco's story. Tonks listened intently, shuddering at certain parts. "That's terrible," she said softly after Harry finished.
"But Tonks," Harry said slowly, "I hated him in school. And now . . . Now he comes here and tells me all of this . . . and I realize that we're the same. Voldemort killed our parents, leaving both of us defenseless and alone. And we're both murderers." Tonks narrowed her eyes at Harry. That was the first time he had ever called himself a murderer.
"That's where you're wrong," she told him. "You are not a murderer, and neither is he."
"How can you say that?" he asked her, feeling his eyes begin to burn as the memories of the war rushed back to his mind. "I killed Peter Pettigrew. I killed him using an Unforgivable. How is that not murder?"
"Harry, we were at war. You had just seen him kill Remus. What else could you do? The man had already betrayed your parents." At the mention of Remus, tears began to fall from Harry's eyes. He had tried his best to forget the details of the battle after all these years, but despite his efforts, he still cried for those who gave their lives. Harry hastily wiped at his eyes.
"Well, what I should I do?" he asked, trying to calm his voice. Tonks considered this question for a moment, and then offered a small smile.
"Do you trust him?" she asked.
"Yes," Harry replied, almost too quickly. Harry knew that due to their past, he shouldn't trust Draco. He found it difficult, however, to not trust someone who was so much like himself.
"Then take him home," Tonks said. "Help him find his feet." Harry furrowed his brow.
"Do you think that's a good idea?" he asked. Tonks shrugged.
"You said you trust him, so why not? I have faith in your judgment. Harry, you've been wanting to go home anyway, so take him with you. Keep his wand, of course, just in case–you should know that, though."
"Right," said Harry. "I don't know, Tonks. Why would he want my help?"
"He came here, didn't he? He obviously wanted someone's help."
"You're right," Harry said. He recalled his and Mr. Weasley's conversation from earlier. Mr. Weasley had received owl mail saying that Harry was to expect a visitor who would only speak to Harry. He sighed and stood from his chair. "Thanks, Tonks. You might have the right idea." Tonks leaned in and gave Harry a hug.
"Of course I do," she said softly with a chuckle. She pulled back and smiled. "You know where to find me if you need anything." Harry returned the smile and bid her farewell. He walked down the corridor with his hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking. Now how was he supposed to ask Draco Malfoy to stay at his house? Especially after everything he had just been told! It wasn't that Harry didn't want Draco to stay with him, but had a hard time imagining the scenario actually happening.
When Harry reached the end of the hall, he muttered the spell to open the door. He slowly pushed it, taking his time. Draco was still sitting in the armchair where Harry had left him, except he had a picture from the wall in his hands. He seemed to be studying it with interest and confusion. Harry shut the door with a slight slam to get Draco's attention. Draco only gave Harry a momentary glance and then held up the picture. It was a picture of a younger Harry with another man who looked to be the same age. This man had straw-colored hair, and scruffy stubble on his chin and jaw. Had this man gone to Hogwarts, his looks would have rivaled those of Cedric Diggory. In the photograph, Harry and the man were sitting at a table drinking tea, and seemed to not notice the picture was being taken. They were talking, stealing shy glances much like James and Lily had in their photograph. Then, the other man looked out of the frame at Harry and Draco and held his hand up in front of the picture to block their view, having just realized they were being watched. The photographed Harry only laughed at this and made a face.
"Who's this?" Draco asked, nodding toward the picture. Harry let out an uneasy sigh.
"Jeremy," he replied. "An old friend." Draco arched his eyebrow, looked at the picture, and laughed.
"Just a friend, Potter? You seem to be enjoying each other's company quite a bit." Harry walked over to Draco and snatched picture from him, laying it face-down on the desk.
"I've been meaning to take it down anyway," Harry mumbled, his back to Draco. He turned around and gave Draco a glare, as if Draco had purposely asked to make him angry.
"Oh, settle down, Potter," Draco said. "I was only asking." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and turned his eyes to the floor.
"No, he wasn't just a friend. He was my boyfriend of three years," Harry said quietly. He was waiting for an uproar of laughter, or a sneer, or something characteristically Draco to happen.
"Did you love him?" was all he asked. Harry turned his eyes back to Draco and looked somewhat shocked. Then, he let out a small laugh. He picked up the picture and held it in front of him, watching himself and Jeremy talking over tea.
"No," Harry said. "I cared about him, but I could never have loved him. It just wasn't meant to be. We got along fine, and we enjoyed each other's company." Harry slumped backwards, taking a seat on the edge of his desk as he held the picture on his lap. He continued to observe the photograph as he spoke. "I think we were both just lonely, and we stayed together because we didn't want to go back to being alone."
"Why did you break up, then?" Draco asked. Harry shrugged.
"It was a mutual thing, I guess. We weren't going anywhere, and we were afraid of what we might be missing out on. Evidently, I wasn't missing out on much because I've been single ever since," Harry said, rolling his eyes and allowing himself to grin. Draco laughed at this, and to Harry's knowledge, it was the first time Draco had ever laughed at something Harry said in a friendly manner.
"What, the famous Harry Potter is having trouble getting dates?" he teased.
"It's hard to meet people when you're never in one place for more than a week. And let's face it–being an Auror leaves little opportunity to meet anyone in a romantic setting."
"Makes sense," Draco said, raising his eyebrows thoughtfully. He sat back on his seat and began to take an unusual interest in his fingernails. "So? What's your final decision?"
"Oh, um . . . Well, Tonks thought it might be a good idea if you, erm . . . " Harry hesitated, preparing himself for an outburst of protest.
"If I what?" Draco asked, his face covered in anxiety.
"If you stayed with me for a few days. At my house," Harry finished. If Draco was shocked by this, he certainly didn't show it. If anything, he almost looked relieved. He then cleared his throat.
"What do you think about that idea?" Draco asked. Harry wasn't sure how to answer that question, because he wasn't sure at all how he felt. Draco had definitely seemed to change since they were younger, but how could their history be completely forgotten?
"I think," said Harry, carefully choosing his words, "That Tonks has never been wrong before."
"Right, Potter. The only way you could be more awkward about this is if I were naked," Draco said, rolling his eyes. Harry quickly opened his mouth to speak, but Draco cut him off. "And no, I'm not making any personal stabs at your sexuality. Only the fact that you still can't tell me how you really feel about anything." Harry sighed, dropping his shoulders.
"You want me to be honest, then?" Draco didn't reply, but continued to drill Harry's eyes with his own. "All right, look. I don't really know how I feel about this. I want to trust you, I want to help you, I want–. . . I don't know." Harry glanced above him as if somehow the ceiling would give him an answer. "I want you to stay with me." Draco was silent for a moment, and then a nervous look covered his eyes.
"I don't have any money or anything to offer you," Draco said slowly. Harry shrugged and smiled softly.
"I wasn't expecting payment. Just stay with me until we figure everything out."
"Why would you help someone like me?"
"Because I know you better than you think. I always thought I'd be the last person you'd ever come to, and here it seems I'm the first." Harry grinned. "I'm sure you're feeling embarrassed enough."
"Thanks, Potter," said Draco snidely.
"However, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. Besides, it's always been your job to ridicule me, not the other way around." Draco remained silent. "I'm making this awkward again, aren't I?"
"A little, yes."
"Sorry." Harry scooted off his desk and stood in front of Draco. "Well, I guess we better get going. We'll go to St. Mungo's first, get you tested, and then we'll go back to my house."
"Am I getting my wand back?" Draco asked, standing also. Harry appeared to be thinking this over, although he knew for sure the answer was no.
"I think I should hang onto it. It's part of the rules, you know. We'll floo to St. Mungo's." Draco looked absolutely horror-struck at this idea.
"We'll floo? I've never flooed in my life!" Draco exclaimed. Harry rolled his eyes, heading towards the door. Draco trudged behind him.
"It's not so bad. You'll get dirty, but that's the worst of it. Oh, and you might get a little nauseous. And there's always the possibility that you'll floo to the wrong fireplace–"
"You're making this a lot easier," Draco said flatly. Harry laughed.
"It's the easiest way right now. We'll floo to my house after that and go from there, I guess," said Harry, opening the door to his office, leading Draco back into the main room of the Auror Headquarters. Tonks was sitting on a couch reading the Daily Prophet. She smiled brightly at the two of them as they reached the door to the second floor corridor.
Harry promised to send her an owl later.
R/R!! :)
