CHAPTER ELEVEN

While Harry slept, he dreamed about being back at headquarters with his friends, his family, and imagined running through the forest and around town as a child with Ron and the twins; he even dreamed about his walks with Ginny, and his crush on Tonks and a girl that lived in the village, Cho Chang. He was with Molly, Arthur, Remus, and even at one point, his imagination brought him his father, his mother, and Sirius based on what others told him about the three.

So I can't quite say that Harry was happy that he was roused from his sleep at a loud snap. He was definitely confused, and it took a moment for him to realize that he wasn't in the stuffy and hard bed he shared with Ron back at headquarters. Rather, he was in a large one with white sheets that was as comfortable as a bed made for a king. Finally, his mind allowed him to remember that he wasn't at headquarters at all, but rather in the Malfoy Castle.

But even then, the bed he was in was neither his nor Draco's. The room he was in was white, spaced out, and foggy. With a groan, he stretched his tired arm to the place he was used to finding a nightstand, which was usually where his glasses were settled, but he didn't find one.

There was another snap.

He tried to sit up, but stopped when he heard Draco Malfoy say, "Awake already?"

"Where are my glasses?" is what he would've asked, but all he could form was a low groan. Before he could clear his throat, he heard Draco continue, "Hermione said you would probably be asleep for another day – two, at the most."

The voice grew louder as the shape grew closer. He could make out the outline of Draco easily. Harry cleared his throat again and asked hoarsely, "Where're my glasses?"

"Oh, one second," there was the sound of some shuffling and the cool glasses were slipped onto Harry's face. Everything became clear and came into focus, and Draco was no longer a blur of colors. The icy eyes were fixed intently on Harry's.

He broke the shared gaze by looking around the room. "Where am I?"

"The infirmary," Draco sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You were poisoned, apparently."

"Poisoned?" Harry's squinted up at Draco. "When? How?"

"Your tea. We don't know who did it yet, but when I find out…"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed slightly. Someone tried to kill him. Why? The only reason his mind could suggest was that someone was very angry at him. His eyes implored him to get some more rest.

"Hermione was here earlier, but she had some files to write up – or something like that," Draco murmured.

"Why are you here?"

He blanked for a moment before answering, "Well, I have to pretend to care, don't I? I'm your husband-to-be, after all." He cleared his throat and shifted slightly. "But – the good news is that my mother used your poisoning and managed to convince Lucius to give his blessings."

This was the most confusing of all. Harry gave Draco an odd look, so Draco explained, "She managed to make it seem that someone attempted to take your life as an assassination attempt. There has to be a very good reason someone wants you dead. She made Lucius think that whoever wants you dead doesn't want us married because the two lands together would become unbeatable. The fool believed her."

"I'm glad my near death was profitable," Harry said bitterly.

"Oh, get over it," Draco smirked. "You weren't anywhere near death. That's what Hermione said, anyway. She was your personal doctor, you know – a precaution. We don't want any nurses finding out that you've got a few extra parts in the wrong places." His eyes wandered from Harry's and down the bed sheets. "You were poisoned, but it was a minor poisoning, according to her. She thinks that the person who did it made a mistake and put too little into the cup, and the leaves that they got the poison from wasn't crushed into a fine enough powder to give the full effect. You'll scrape by with some headaches and a hoarse throat – maybe some vomiting – at the most."

"That must be a relief for you," Harry said. His tone was supposed to be sour and slightly annoyed, but it only came out as tired.

"But of course," Draco smirked, but the smirk started to fade away and was replaced by an almost gentle and concerned expression – if a Malfoy was ever capable of such a thing. "You should get some more rest," he suggested almost kindly and reached for Harry's glasses. He folded them and got off of the bed.

"Hermione let you stay here?" Harry murmured after a moment.

"Hm?"

"She let you be here even though she thinks you're trying to…" he trailed off sleepily.

"Harry, even I wouldn't stoop so low as to harass a sick boy."

" 'M not a boy," Harry rolled over and promptly fell back into such a deep sleep that he dreamed that he was sleeping under a tree.

When Harry next woke up, it was to scratchy noises that were irritating his eardrums. He had an awful taste in his mouth and his head was pounding, but his throat didn't feel as raw as it had earlier. He rolled over. The scratching stopped.

"Glad to see you awake again," Draco's voice wandered over.

"He's awake?" Hermione came forward and helped Harry sit up, gave him a sip of water from a glass that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and gave him his glasses, which he slipped on gratefully and looked around the castle infirmary.

Draco was sitting at a nearby desk with the journal in front of him. He watched Harry as he absorbed his surroundings.

"How do you feel?"

"Like someone took a bludgeon and hit me over the head. But, other than that…"

"Draco says that you've been sleeping rather calmly."

"I suppose."

Hermione fretted with feeling Harry's neck and forehead to see if there was a rise in temperature, made sure he drank more water, and when Draco tried to start speaking about the poisoning and who might've done it and why, Hermione interrupted him:

"What Harry needs is fresh air to clear his mind; not a stressful conversation."

"I wouldn't mind that," Harry said instantly. He really did need to get out of the room. He suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on him, and Hermione was right: his mind wouldn't be able to handle such a topic of conversation.

"So – what – do you want me to get one of the dresses…?"

"Can't I just go out as a slave?" Harry muttered and tried to push himself out of bed; suddenly, a wave of nausea and a violent pounding in his eardrums forced him back down onto the bed. He used a lot of energy as he tried to get up a second time, but again he failed.

"You'll be weak for a while," Hermione said when she noticed his efforts. "You might need to depend on Draco for a bit."

"Sorry?"

"She stuck me on you," Draco explained bitterly.

"You were perfectly happy to help earlier," Hermione sniffed. "Almost eager, in fact."

Draco's pale face blushed slightly. "So I have to take him wherever he wants to go?"

"I suggest the lake," Hermione glanced out of the window. "It's almost sunset, and no one is there at this time."

Harry frowned slightly. The conversation was moving a bit too fast for his taste; he couldn't keep up at all. "Wait, hold on – Draco is taking me to a lake?"

"If you want to go," Hermione nodded. "Here, I'll get you a top; it might be slightly chilly out, but that'll be good. You'll clear your head faster than if it was humid."

Harry had barely noticed that he only wore shorts. Hermione helped him fit the top over his head and put his arms through the appropriate holes.

Draco didn't seem unbearably excited at the thought of leading a slave to the lake. "What happens if someone sees us?"

"Is there anything wrong with a noble royal sitting by the lake and having a personal slave attend to him?"

"Well – no, I suppose not…"

"Then help him up."

Draco heaved an annoyed sigh, shut his journal, and made himself go to the side of the bed. He put out his hand, which Harry barely touched with the slightest of hesitation.

"Hold onto it," Draco said, a touch bothered.

Harry gripped it more tightly. He was helped out of the bed, and when he stumbled slightly, Draco nearly fell underneath the weight.

"Gods, what the hell do you eat?" Draco huffed and threw Harry's arm over his shoulders. "You're heavy!"

"I'm not that heavy," Harry said, slightly defensively. "If anything, you're just weak."

Draco scowled and muttered something incomprehensible.

Hermione watched as they struggled to the door, glanced around to make sure no one was near by, and watched them leave, Harry waving good-bye.

They didn't encounter any problems in the hallways, other than Harry's complaints that the stone underneath his bare feet were cold. At one point, they heard heated voices arguing, but they quickly vanished and left nothing but echoes in Harry and Draco's wake.

Eventually, Draco was able to half-drag Harry down the many flights of stairs to the ground level. They moved through the courtyard; it was empty because the slaves were either doing their shifts inside of the castle or were in their nearby cabins. By the time they got across the stones and into the private gardens, night had fallen. Both boys were puffing and sweating, Draco cursing all the way.

They made it to 'the lake', which wasn't really a lake at all but a large pond. The flowers smelled sweet, and a gentle wind breezed through Harry's ruffled hair. Draco helped him onto a large rock and sat down beside him, his legs craving the rest.

"You know, you should probably enjoy your time out," Draco said after a moment, which was met with confusion on Harry's part. "After Lucius agreed to give us his blessings, he decided that he doesn't – well, he doesn't want there to be another assassination attempt."

A dull ache came in between Harry's eyes. "So?"

"He wants you to be confined to your tower. My mother agrees. And… well, so do Hermione and I."

Harry knew he should feel angry, but he was too tired. "I never left it that much anyway."

"You can't go anywhere," Draco repeated. "Not even for dinner, or breakfast… until our marriage, you have to stay in the tower."

"So I'm some kind of hostage?"

"What're you talking about?" Draco rose an eyebrow. "We're trying to protect you."

"From who?"

"We don't know yet," Draco shook his head. "And as for why… Hermione thinks that someone might've taken you too seriously and really doesn't want the two lands bonded together… Or maybe it was just a very unfunny practical joke."

Harry could hardly even digest what had happened. It seemed so unreal, like he was watching someone else recover from a poisoning; like someone really hadn't just tried to kill him.

"No one but me, Hermione, Lucius, and my mother know," Draco continued. "And you, of course."

"Blaise doesn't?"

"No. We don't want the peasants finding out, and he has a pretty big mouth."

"When you say peasants, you mean the villagers."

"Same thing."

That meant the rumors wouldn't spread in the village, which meant that there was no way Ron or Remus or anyone else could find out. He would have to tell the Order about the assassination attempt when someone returned to receive more information. Unfortunately, it would be hard for them to reach him since he would be stuck in his tower. But suddenly, he was too tired to think about all of that. He simply wanted to relax.

Draco shook his head. "I don't think that someone wanted to kill you to keep the two lands separate – "

"Draco, if you don't mind, I think I want to talk about something else. Or else just enjoy the quiet."

"Well, I can't stand absolute silence right now, so let's talk. About what?"

Harry shrugged and stared at the garden. There were large fish swimming in the lake, their scales glittering in the moonlight, and stones made a path in the water to what looked like a floating island where a single tree stood tall. Pink flowers graced the clear water after floating away from the tree's branches. It was the type of place that Ginny and Tonks would love – and also the type of place that the twins and Ron would gag at. Normally, Harry would want to gag along with them… but they weren't with him. Instead, he was with Draco.

The night was calming somewhat, and Hermione was right about the chilly breeze: Harry felt like his mind was becoming fresher and fresher by the second.

"Draco?"

"Hm?"

"I've been wondering… Why don't you want to be Lord Malfoy? Why would you create this huge plan, just so that you can't succeed your father?"

Draco seemed thoughtful for a moment and shifted on the rock. "Why would I want to be?"

"Well, you get power over the province – "

"So? That power wouldn't mean anything," Draco sighed. "Getting power like my father wants is just a futile attempt of making yourself immortal. People only want power so that they can become legends and so that their name will live on after they die."

"Did Hermione teach you that?"

"No," he smirked. "I thought of that all on my own. And besides that, it must be a boring and dull life to be constantly making laws and killing and creating wars with other provinces."

"Some might see that as exciting."

"Well those people and I obviously disagree."

There was a small silence before Draco asked:

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Don't you have some sort of responsibility that you want to blow off?"

"Of course. I have to be your wife."

"Hey, being my wife can't be that bad." He ignored Harry's snort. "Isn't there anything else?"

Harry bit his bottom lip in thought. "Well, yeah… I mean, I have to do a lot of things that I don't want to do – like washing the dishes or walking half way across the province to buy bread. But I have to do it anyway, you know? I have no choice. But – er," Harry glanced at the rippling water, "there's this huge responsibility of mine that I might actually end up ignoring. I mean," he said nervously and cautiously, "I want to. I have to do it, but I don't want to, though I should want to do it."

"Did that make sense in your head?"

"Not really," Harry grinned sheepishly.

"I think I might know what you're saying, though," Draco shrugged. "People would think I'm crazy to not want to be Lord of the Malfoy province. If they knew about my plan, anyway."

"What does Blaise think?"

"Why are you asking about him?"

"Well, I'm just thinking about how I haven't seen him in a while."

"Blaise…" Draco sighed. "I haven't seen him for a while either."

"Where is he?"

"In the Harems," Draco shrugged.

"Still?"

"Yeah. I asked him not to come out unless he was – er – needed again."

"Oh," Harry blushed slightly and looked away. He couldn't quite say that he was disappointed that Blaise was back in the Harems.

"What're you going to do if your plan works?"

Draco actually smiled. "I'm going to move away, dress up in disguise so that no one will recognize me as a Malfoy, and become a book analyst."

Harry snorted; chuckled; coughed to try to hide his guffaw; and finally, double up laughing. And once he started, he couldn't stop.

"What's so funny?" Draco demanded, but was only met with the laughs. He hit Harry's arm – and none too gently, mind you. Harry threw his hands up in defense and a yell of pain and protest.

"I just didn't expect you to say that!" Harry grinned. "That's all. I thought you would – I don't know – buy every mansion in the world or something."

Draco rolled his eyes. "No. I'm going to analyze books, which isn't really very funny at all. It's a serious and worthy business." When Harry continued laughing, he narrowed his eyes and demanded, "And what will you do after we get married?"

At this, Harry's smile disappeared. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you set me free or have me executed."

Draco's face instantly changed from angry and became grim; he seemed like he suddenly couldn't meet Harry's eye. "Why would I – ?"

"Oh, don't even pretend," Harry glared. "You're going to have me executed. Right?"

Draco sighed and gazed at the floating island. "I don't know."

"You don't know!"

Harry tried to stand up, but he was still too weak. "This is my life we're talking about!"

"Calm down!" Draco insisted; he grabbed him and forced him back down. "Don't overexert yourself or Hermione will have my head – "

"And you don't care at all! I'm just a bloody pawn to you that needs to be taken care of or I'll be useless – "

"According to who?" Draco glared and held him still. "Where the hell do you pull these ideas out of?"

Harry, perplexed, quickly said, "Then why won't you deny that you're going to have me executed?"

"What am I supposed to do, Harry? I can't divorce you. Surely you don't want to spend the rest of your life with a book analyst – "

"Set me free. Say I ran away, disappeared, I don't know – "

"It's not as easy as that."

"Yes it is!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Fine."

A few seconds passed before Harry echoed, "Fine?"

"Yes. Fine. I'll let you go. I'll say that you ran away."

"You actually think I'll trust you?"

"Well you have no choice, do you?" Draco watched Harry spitefully.

Harry stared at Draco distrustfully and angrily.

Draco sighed. "I said I would let you go, right? Didn't I?"

"But you won't!"

"I said I will! I'm going to! Gods, Harry, just trust me and let it go."

"How can you expect me to let something like this go?"

Harry turned his intense glare to the tree. As if he would trust a Malfoy with his life.

Minutes of heated silence passed. Harry, fuming, sent glares at Draco, who sighed in exasperation and chose to ignore them. Harry hated having no choice but to believe Draco. And really, a part of him desperately wanted to believe him. What else could he do? Draco's word was his only hope for survival.

Hermione seemed to think that he would let Harry go. Blaise's echoes of his suspicion that Draco would betray Harry seemed so far away. Blaise never did like Harry; he probably said that to upset him. Harry suddenly remembered what Draco wrote in his last journal entry: about how Blaise was like a hungry tiger. Harry's mistrust for Blaise doubled in that instant, thus making his trust in Draco…

It grew, but not by very much, Harry thought to himself. By a centimeter's worth, maybe. Not by a lot. And that still didn't mean that he really believed Draco when he said he'd set Harry free.

"You said," Draco eventually started, "that you were arrested because you were falsely accused of being a thief?"

"Yes."

Draco glanced at him. "I'll – have the real thief found after we're married. I'll have your name cleared."

Harry was surprised into silence for a moment. "Thank you."

Draco nodded. "I really will let you go, you know. I know you don't trust me because I have tyrant blood – "

Harry shook his head. "It's okay, Draco. Really. I have no choice but to trust you."

A small smile flitted across his face. "And you know, you'll have to be careful. Some of the other – villagers – well, they might recognize you if you're not careful."

"I'll be careful. Plus, I'll be wearing my glasses."

"Good."

The silence was almost enjoyable.

"Tell me, Harry," Draco gazed at the floating islands and watched the petals lazily drift through the air, "what kind of people are you attracted to?"

"Pardon me?"

"What kind of – "

"I heard what you said."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just don't think that's any of your business, that's all."

"It's not such a difficult question to answer," Draco smirked. "Unless you really are the blushing bride that Parkinson thinks you are."

"Well, if you must know," Harry muttered, blushing slightly, "I like – er – quiet girls, I suppose." Even though Tonks and Ginny were anything but quiet. "And pretty. They have to be pretty."

"Girls?"

"Yes, girls."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just assumed you preferred men."

"What?"

Draco glanced over with a raised eyebrow and repeated, "I assumed you – "

"Why?" Harry asked, flustered.

"Well, you were so willing to wear the dresses that I just assumed – "

"It's not like I had a bloody choice!"

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Draco asked defensively. "It's not a bad thing to like other men."

"I never said it was."

"Then why are you getting so upset?"

"I'm not upset! I just don't – well, I don't like being with guys."

"How do you know if you've never tried?"

Harry, muddled, quickly shut his mouth and decided not to answer.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll tell you my preferences just to show you that it's not such a big deal: the girls have to be basically the opposite of Parkinson – and they can't be too clingy. And they have to be easy and willing, of course – I detest the, 'Oh, but I'm a virgin!' nonsense. They also have to be curvy. As for the men, well," Draco smirked. "I like them a bit darker, I suppose. Not too clean-cut, either." He glanced over Harry. "Nicely built, and with lighter colored eyes – like blue, or, say, green – "

"Lay off," Harry muttered, blushing. He pushed himself farther away from Draco on the rock to emphasize his point. Maybe Hermione had a good reason to be so worried after all.

Draco shrugged. "I'm only speaking the truth."

"Well, I never really asked to hear about what kind of people you're attracted to anyway."

"I don't care if you asked or not. I wanted to tell you, so I did. I usually do and take what I want, when I want to, and I don't need to have a reason for why," he gazed lazily at Harry.

He couldn't meet Draco's gaze, but Draco knew that his point had been made and that Harry understood what he was implying. Draco carefully searched Harry's face, but didn't say anymore and went back to watching the petals drift idly. When it came time to leave, Harry insisted on walking on his own without using Draco as a crutch.

AN: Thank you all so much for all of the reviews! You guys are great.

I'm really sorry. I forgot to answer a question in the last update. I honestly wasn't ignoring anyone; I just have a horrible memory. The question is what the foreign princess's name is, and the answer is that I didn't give "her" one. I was trying to make the point that the foreign princess is so fake that she doesn't even have a name; giving her one would put her at the same level as all of the other characters, you know?

I hope you I answered the question and that you all liked this chapter! Tell me what you thought!