Black Truth

Chapter Sixteen: Foundations Crumble

Harry and Ron had finally gotten to the library, after the whole event in Draco and Harry's rooms, andHarry was just starting his Potions essay(at three in the afternoon on the day before it was due) when Ron finally got up the nerve to speak what had been on his mind for half an hour before this point, to Harry. Harry blinked at him, disbelief clearly written across his features.

"Ron, you have got to be kidding. Did you eat something that Fred or George sent you? You know that it's an "at best" situation if Dr-Malfoy and I hate each other."

Ron chose to ignore Harry's slip-up when he'd said Malfoy's name and just looked at his friend skeptically. "I don't know how things looked from your end, mate, but all I'm telling you is that it didn't look like you two hated each other from where I was standing. That's all. Just forget I said it, okay? I'm certainly going to forget I saw it." Ron looked slightly disgusted as he tried not to remember it.

Of course, after hearing that kind of a statement from Ron of all people, Harry couldn't concentrate on Potions (a class he had with Draco). So, in the politest way he could with his mind on other things, he left his friends in the library and went in search of his Firebolt to go flying and clear his head.

Hermione watched him go with a puzzled expression and turned to Ron the second Harry had disappeared out the door. "What happened?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Ron almost sighed at the prospect of having to relive that scene yet again, but began to tell her.

Down in the dungeons, Draco was just finishing explaining what had happened to his father, who (if he had been looking, which by the way he wasn't) looked mildly amused at his son's plight.

"Draco, for the last time, the bond does not do anything to your emotions. It does not magnify nor create anything for you except power. It stays away from matters of feeling."

"Then why did I have to kiss him in the first place?"

"Merely tradition. Normally the two intended are rather attracted to one another; therefore the bond came to be activated by kissing. Nothing more, nothing less. When Potter tried to defy the bond, it retaliated by beginning to retract itself in an effort to stabilize itself, thus more kissing." He took a long sip of port. "When it comes right down to it, Draco, the fault rests completely with the two of you."

"It's not my fault," Draco muttered below his breath and his father chose to ignore that statement. Then he thought of something. "What in Merlin's name am I going to say to him?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Say, Draco? You don't have to say anything. I would recommend being civil, but in reality you don't need to do a thing. Your part as a Veriae is done and over with. Unless your bonded gets in trouble you could ignore his very existence."

"I know that, but it's just a bit awkward," Draco responded.

"Then be civil. Or, if you're feeling adventurous, try being agreeable. You might enjoy the results." The sarcasm was lost on Draco, who actually thought about the idea.

"I tried being agreeable in First Year, and that didn't work."

Again Lucius found solace in his wine glass before speaking. "Draco, you are a Slytherin and Malfoy, he doesn't need to know that it's you being agreeable."

Draco thought about that some more, and Lucius found himself thanking whatever deity was ruling the world that Draco was an only child. Lucius didn't think he could handle another one. Finally breaking the silence, Lucius spoke.

"I will be remaining at the Manor after Christmas break; it appears that I seem innocent enough at this point to the Ministry."

Draco bit back a grin at the drawled statement. He had problems picturing his father as "innocent" in any definition of the word, but then again he knew things that the Ministry did not.

Lucius watched his son carefully, but Draco didn't seem to latch on to the fact that if he, Draco, was going to go home to the Manor for Christmas break with his father... then Harry would have to go as well. Lucius idly wondered if he'd been as this unobservant at Draco's age... and decided against it. He'd give Draco a week to work it out.

It was a few hours later when Draco finally left the comfort of his father's rooms and began the trek back to his side of the dungeons ('his' because that was where his rooms were... Potter was just borrowing some space for the time being, they really were his). He was a bit relieved to see that Potter wasn't back yet. Hopefully he wouldn't be back until after Draco had already fallen asleep and therefore the two could avoid any sort of a confrontation about that afternoon.

On his way to his own bed, he passed Potter's and noticed that the other boy's books seemed to have been discarded in a pile on the bed and that Potter's Firebolt was missing. The boy was out flying... at this time of day... err, night. He was crazy. Draco frowned, seeing the Potions textbook on the top of the pile. Harry had probably not even started the essay. Unbidden, his father's words came back into his mind. Be agreeable... if he was feeling adventurous. Well, he was most definitely not feeling very adventurous at this moment in time... but...

With determination, he took out his own assignment (which was twice as long as it needed to be... he'd gotten a little carried away with this one) and began to write. This would be rather interesting actually, as he would have to duplicate Harry's style of writing so as not to raise his godfather's suspicions. Then he'd have to place a few forgery spells on his writing so that it would look like Harry's... he'd be done in a half hour or so.

Harry came in from flying long after it was too dark to see, not feeling much better than when he'd gone out. Sure, the joy of flying itself was still there... his head just wasn't very clear, even given the entire afternoon to think.

There was something strange going on between himself and Draco but Harry couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. He'd ruled out love right away; that was most assuredly not the answer. Lust... maybe, but unlikely. Sure, he enjoyed Draco's kissing but he could just as easily want to break a bone or hex him. Attraction... even less likely; there were too many things about Draco's personality that Harry found unattractive for it to be that. Friendship? Hmm, there was some grey area. They weren't friends... but he didn't really mind Draco's presence any more as long as the other boy wasn't trying to annoy him. Acceptance, maybe? He was getting used to being around Draco? It was all too confusing. At least, having stayed out this late, Draco would either be showering or in bed and they could avoid talking about it... if Draco would talk about it at all. Harry had no idea how that Slytherin's mind worked. Maybe it was just a Veriae thing and he was reading too far into it... then again maybe not... and here the circle of thought started over and over again.

Harry entered the bedroom as quietly as he could, and then relaxed slightly at hearing the shower running. He shook his head... that was, what... Draco's third shower today? Yes, he would never understand how that Slytherin's mind worked.

Then all thoughts of that Slytherin were replaced by different thoughts. Oh bloody hell... Potions. He'd completely forgotten to do the essay. Damn it. Harry groaned slightly imagining the detention he'd get for this. But then he stopped short in his mental rant.

Sitting there inside the cover of his potions book... was an essay. His essay... or at least that was his writing. But he hadn't written the essay, of that he was sure. Harry looked towards the bathroom door with shock appearing on his face. No way... but there was no other explanation. Hermione might have done the essay for him, but then it would be in her handwriting and he'd have to recopy it... and she didn't know where his room was to deliver it. Ron did know where his room was, but neither of them would get past Medusa (especially if Harry – who did have the password – had trouble doing so). So the only one left was... Draco. And one would have to use some type of forgery spell to write in his own handwriting.

Harry began skimming the lines of the essay as the shower turned off. It was really good. A bit better and more detailed than he would normally be but Snape wouldn't really notice. He couldn't see a flaw anywhere that would key someone into thinking that Harry himself hadn't done the work.

Draco came out of the bathroom dressed in his favorite pair of pajamas (black silk) to be immediately hit with the full force of Harry's best smile. He blinked slightly and stopped his mind from going down the path of "he looks really cute when he smiles". One eyebrow rising in question, even as he saw the essay in Harry's hands he asked:

"What are you grinning about?"

"Thank you, Draco," was all Harry said as he began clearing the books off his bed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco replied as he climbed in his own bed.

Harry shook his head, though he knew Draco wouldn't see it, but couldn't help the thought that passed through his head: 'Typical Draco. Even when he does something nice he has to be aloof about it.'

When he woke up the next day, Harry would ponder that thought and wonder what that meant. He would eventually arrive at the conclusion that he no longer loathed one Draco Malfoy. Got annoyed at often, yes, but he no longer hated him. He'd become used to being around Draco... what a scary thought.