Were Harry honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he'd been intentionally avoiding Draco. If he were capable of that kind of honesty, he might go on to acknowledge that the reason he was avoiding him was because he found the idea that Draco had dressed up in the maid's uniform for him was too tantalizing to give up. He knew that given the opportunity to dispute that idea, Draco would make sure that Harry regretted ever believing it. Of course, none of this even began to touch on why he found the concept appealing, because for now, Harry was happy in his ignorance.
Neither Snape nor the dress had reappeared in over a week. Draco continued to receive deliveries of treats and money from his mother. He was currently at the door talking to the pair of pikeys who went to the shop for them. Draco's posture indicated his irritation with dealing with them, but his was the only face they knew.
This was the first time he'd seen Draco in casual Muggle clothing. Unlike some of the Wizards he'd seen at the World Cup, Draco had a grasp on what to wear and wasn't standing there in a floral muumuu. In fact, he was well attired in tight-fitting jeans that hugged his pert, well-formed arse, and... The door slammed and Draco whirled around. He perked a brow at Harry's gaze, but didn't remark.
Like the calm before the storm, such juicy topics that would have been the source of much amusement, such as Draco's extended showers and Harry's leering, were never mentioned. Harry frequently walked into rooms where Ron and Hermione were speaking, only to watch them hush in his presence. However, he connected that behavior to what couples do as opposed to them discussing his odd behaviour. Oblivious to the silence, Harry tucked into another roasted meal Draco had prepared. "Duck?" he asked, looking up at Draco.
"Rabbit," he answered, giving Harry an odd look as he sat down at the table with the rest of them.
"It's good." Draco nodded in answer and went back to eating.
"Does Snape usually take this long between messages?" Hermione asked. It had been a few minutes since anyone had spoken above the din of tinny utensils scraping over chipped stoneware.
Draco jumped, having been deep in rumination. "He... I suppose sometimes he did." His head lowered to conclude the line of questioning.
"So he just left you here alone with Pettigrew to flounce about in that... dress?" Harry's tone was hostile; he wondered how or why Snape, if he cared about Draco at all, would leave him to this.
Draco didn't even look up. "You seemed to like that dress all right, Potter. It would seem to me that given your druthers, I'd be wearing it a lot more." Though he ate his bite of rabbit apathetically, Harry noticed that Draco had not transfigured his clothing back to proper Wizarding attire.
"I... I've just... never... seen... a boy... dressed... it's unsettling!" Harry said, looking down at his food. "I've never even... seen a girl... like that."
"Well, there's a definite difference between a boy and a girl, Potter. Just because you're confused and lonesome for the Weaslette--"
"Don't you talk about her!" Ron hissed, leaning forward. He glared with equal venom at Draco and Harry. "Don't you dare talk about her, Malfoy. She and Harry are meant for each other. He's just got this thing to do. A mission. Then he'll be back with her, so knock it off!"
"We're not meant for each other, Ron," Harry piped up as Draco waved Ron off and returned to expressionless eating. "If we were... well, I don't think she'd keep dating other blokes."
"Harry, she's just trying to make you jeal--" Hermione began in a tone that suggested a weary mother.
"I know what she's trying to do, and you know what? I don't care. If she wants to date Seamus, then she should date Seamus. And Dean. Hell, she should throw in Neville; I don't think he ever got a proper go at her! Yes, yes, then she could complete the set!" Harry barked.
Draco giggled and covered his mouth.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" all three shouted.
In reply, Draco dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and then tossed it next to his plate. "Well, it's been lovely," he sneered and rolled his eyes, "but I'm going to bed. I'll see you there... lovey," Draco called over his shoulder as he headed down the darkened hallway. His cloying tone elevated the tension in the room for everyone except Harry, whose stomach gave an excited flip in spite of the caustic delivery.
"Merlin, Harry, stop staring at his bum!" Ron said, grabbing Harry's shoulder to wheel him around.
"I was not!" Harry looked to Hermione for back up but she just shook her head.
"What's he done to you, Harry?" Ron's tone was sympathetic but his stance showed a strong urge to run after Draco and throttle him.
Hermione took Harry's hand and looked at him seriously. "Harry, it's all right if you're gay. We're your friends and we understand that." She looked to Ron for confirmation and he gave Harry an understanding nod. "But often in times of stress we start looking to one another for comfort and I just want to be sure that your feelings aren't just... confused."
Harry had always mourned the loss of his parents. He spent his whole life wishing that he'd had his parents with him for those casual touches, for support, for birthdays. This, he decided, was the one parental conversation he didn't regret missing. Hermione and Ron as surrogates made it just plain creepy. "Gay?"
"Harry, we see how you look at him. Just don't do anything you'll regret. As girlish as he appears, Draco Malfoy is very much a boy, and I don't think he's appropriate choice to experiment with." Hermione patted Harry's hand. Harry stared at it.
"Experiment? Look, I'm more than aware that he's a boy, Hermione." Harry yanked his hand back and then folded his arms over his chest. "I don't look at him in any particular way."
Ron snorted.
Harry ignored it and kept his eyes on Hermione. "He's attractive. Boys can find other boys attractive. He has a good sense of... er... style."
"It wasn't his style you were staring at, mate." Ron put his hand on Hermione's shoulder and suddenly the image of parental concern was too overwhelming.
He felt the need to wipe those condescending looks off of their faces.
"Fine, I was staring at his arse. Is that what you want to hear? I was staring at his arse and I liked it. I like looking at him in fishnet stockings and sometimes in the mornings if I think I can get away with it, I stare at him while he tosses off in the shower! You like hearing that? THAT I LIKE LOOKING AT MALFOY TOSSING IN THE SHOWER?" Ron and Hermione's eyes had widened, but they weren't fixed on Harry, but instead something over his shoulder. Harry slowly turned to see Draco.
Draco stood in the hallway, affecting a posture of composure, but something in his eyes was off. He looked scared. "Stop watching me in the shower, Potter," he mumbled as he brushed past the small group to get into the kitchen.
Harry stared at the floor, breathing slowly to try and calm himself. He heard the creaky cupboard open, then the clink of glass. The water tap turned on and shut off. Draco's footsteps back into the living area broke the silence as no one dared to say a word. Draco paused as if he were going to say something, but instead opted to head down the hall to the bedroom, his glass of water in hand. Harry looked up to watch Draco's progress down the hall.
"Stop looking at my arse, Potter."
--
Draco hadn't told Harry to sleep in the drawing room, but he didn't get the feeling that he was welcome in bed. There weren't loads of comfortable places to sleep in the cramped cottage. Pettigrew slept in the drawing room on the couch, and besides Harry didn't want chance being there when Snape fire called. So, he stayed at the kitchen table reading for most of the night in his indecision. Blearily looking up at the clock, he saw it was half-four. He couldn't sleep at the table, so he decided to try to sneak into bed. He'd deal with Draco in the morning.
Using a weak Lumos spell to create a soft light, he headed down the darkened hall to the second door. Pushing it open, he crept into the room. He put his lit wand on the nightstand, noting that Draco was pressed against the edge of the bed-- probably out of habit, but Harry liked to believe he was expecting Harry to come back.
Harry pulled on his pyjamas as quietly as he could and crawled into bed. Picking up his wand, he brought it closer to Draco, cupping his hand around the glowing tip to further shield the light. Draco had such a sweet face when he was asleep-- so unbothered and blissful; no trace of a sneer. Lowering his wand from Draco's face he saw a tuft of white fur from his chin to his chest. On further inspection he found that Draco's arms were crisscrossed over something fluffy. Vaguely remembering Draco trying to hide something from him the morning he'd destroyed the Horcrux, Harry decided to investigate.
He stroked the side of it-- it was soft, but it wasn't warm. Draco rolled onto his back and Harry saw more of the shimmering fur and a spiraled, golden horn. The glittering tail revealed it for what it was-- a toy unicorn. Draco Malfoy had a stuffed animal.
Harry sat back on his heels and stared affectionately at what had once been his school nemesis. It was hard to imagine that this was the same boy who had attempted to terrorize him at Hogwarts. Now Harry understood what Draco must've been concealing the other morning. With a reducing spell he could hide his "little secret" wherever he wanted.
Harry knew the signs of someone faking sleep from six years of sharing a dorm. Draco wasn't terribly good at it. "What's its name?" he whispered.
The room was silent but for Draco's breathing.
Harry nudged him. "Come on."
The silence continued until Harry slid his hand on Draco's leg. Slapping it away as he squirmed, Draco whispered, "Lolly. But never call her that. You are not to refer to her by name or by what she is and you are never to touch her with your dirty hands. Try not to think of her either. And if you tell anyone about her, I'll have you killed." With that announcement, Draco rolled over on top of her.
It was hard not to laugh. "Lolly? Why Lolly?"
"Don't say her name! I was young and I couldn't say many words." The pillows he'd pressed his face into muffled Draco's voice. Harry could see his shape in shadows through the sheets.
"Sorry." Harry was amused, but he was also too exhausted to properly tease him. Flopping down on his side of the bed, he ignored Draco's shifting as far away from him as he could get. "Well, it's late. Good night Malfoy... and friend."
Harry turned his back to Draco to let him have his privacy. It was probably for the best, because Harry was having a hard time concealing his smirk that a 17-year-old boy slept with a stuffed toy.
--
The next morning Harry awoke to the usual sound of the shower. Sitting up and pulling on his glasses, he quickly changed, trying to pretend that he hadn't noticed that the bathroom door was shut. He was almost past the threshold of the room when he halted, and turned back to stand in front of the closed loo door. Though he knew it was shut on purpose, he wanted to believe it had been an accident. When he turned the knob and found that there was no moving the door, his heart sank. Not only was the door locked, it was hexed. The hex was probably rudimentary and easy to break, but Draco's point was made.
Harry stabbed at breakfast, feeling despondent. Hermione and Ron weren't trying to be unsympathetic, but it was obvious that they didn't know what to say about his brooding. Draco joined them a few minutes earlier than usual, but no one spoke of it.
There were circles under his eyes, barely concealed by sloppy glamours. Harry wanted to take a perverse pride in Draco's evident lack of sleep, but he couldn't. It just fueled his confused and growing anger. In his mind, Draco knew that Harry had been spying on him. The only thing that changed was that now it was out in the open. He knew Draco saw him the first time it happened and was positive that they'd exchanged glances a few times since. The innocent act vexed him and after Draco shoved his plate away, Harry glared and said, "I want to talk to you about our food list. Next time those kids go to the store, I'd like it if you could get us some lollies."
"Excuse me?" Draco's respondent stare was murderous. Ron and Hermione just looked between the two of them, unsure of why a sweet would be so contentious.
"Lollies, Malfoy. Or does tossing off in the shower make you deaf?"
"Does watching me give you an oral fixation?" Draco spat back. He stood up and threw his napkin on the table. "Or maybe it's the withdrawal from seeing me that makes you want to suck on something, you little ponce?"
"Hah! You knew I could see you! You knew it and you proved it by locking the door this morning! YOU LIKED IT!" Harry likewise stood and threw his napkin down as if initiating a duel.
Draco's face was a brilliant crimson and rapidly turning purple as he started to work up to what appeared might've been a wicked rant when everyone heard the flare of the hearth and Snape's drawling voice. Instantaneously, Draco's wand was out and he was standing in the square-necked uniform. Though Harry wasn't in his path, he shoved him hard, knocking him over a chair before he whirled around and bustled to the drawing room.
Had Harry's heart and possibly his arm not been broken, Draco's retreating form, with flaring white ruffles and a flash of knickers, might've been funny. But as the door to the drawing room slammed, Harry fought the urge to cry.
--
Hermione healed Harry's arm, which had only been bruised, but otherwise no one had spoken since Draco disappeared. Harry was just about to suggest they spy through the door when Draco appeared in the doorway. He avoided eye contact with Harry. Instead, he addressed Ron and Hermione; inviting them all to speak to Snape.
They lined up in front of the fire with Harry on one side and Draco on the other. Snape made it a point to speak to Draco as if no one else was tolerable to look at, which suited Harry just fine. "Of course Dumbledore informed me of the cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff but I have not been able to secure its location. However, I have heard tale of a secret chamber under Borgin and Burkes. It was a slip from the Dark Lord himself and I believe it to contain the silver shield of Rowena Ravenclaw."
Harry tilted his head. A shield-- that made sense. He'd begun to wonder, after destroying the locket, why a man would own a locket; it seemed rather girlish. Even Hufflepuff's cup seemed a little random. Tableware imbued with magical properties? He'd begun to suspect that he'd be actively seeking to destroy the fork of Gryffindor or the ancient comb of Ravenclaw. A shield, at least, had some heft to it.
His thoughts were interrupted by Draco's snicker. "Borgin would top himself off if he knew that he'd been literally sitting on something valuable that he could've had at no cost."
Snape returned the haughty sneer and nodded. "Indeed." He glanced at Harry and then returned to speaking to Draco. "I've also heard the Dark Lord speaking repeatedly of 'guarding the Fen.' I assume he means the area around Norfolk. It is legend that Salazar Slytherin hailed from the Fen; I would suppose that he had found the location. It is a wide area to search, I shall endeavor to narrow it, but in the mean time Draco, it would not hurt to read what you might from my library about Slytherin folklore whilst the others are rooting out the shield. I shall attempt to find more books from Hogwarts and maps of the era."
Draco nodded.
"Wait, Malfoy's coming with us," Harry announced. Everyone looked at him, surprised.
"As invaluable as I'm certain he would be to you, Potter, he must remain."
Even though he was helping them, Harry hated every word from Snape's mouth. His face twisted up. "Why, so you can molest him?"
Snape affected being nonplussed but Harry wasn't buying it. "Mr Potter, I would think you to keep your deviant fantasies to yourself. No, Mr Malfoy must remain here to protect his family. Whilst I am generally the only one to check in on him, the Dark Lord is hard to predict. I'm certain you and your friends are up to the task of retrieval on your own."
"And if we're not?" Harry knew they were, but he couldn't help pushing the issue.
Waving his hand dismissively, "Then at least Malfoy and I will be covered."
Draco sneered at Harry and he felt a spark of the old hatred-- self-serving, bastard Slytherins. "Right then. I suppose now we'll have to just guess where the chamber was hidden?"
"Good luck, Potter." With that bit of insincere dialogue, Snape vanished.
--
Harry didn't like this. He didn't like any of it.
He didn't like leaving Draco at the house.
He hadn't liked packing for who knows how long.
He didn't like stealing away in the night to Apparate to Diagon Alley.
And he damn sure didn't like sleeping on the floor of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.
Not only because he feared it would put the twins and their store in jeopardy, but because the Pygmy Puffs rattled in their cages. Furthermore, he was afraid that every time he turned around he'd either jostle something that would explode, or worse, that catch sight of Ron and Hermione snogging again.
Not only was it distressing of its own right, but also it reminded him of how little of that he was getting. He'd broken up with Ginny and blown it with Draco. The break up with Ginny was less than bothersome. Particularly since three of the five days that they'd been hiding out here, Ginny had made special effort to stop by to show off a bracelet and matching earrings that Seamus had given her.
Hermione had attempted to speak to him in indulgent tones about how Ginny was really not over him and was just doing a poor job of trying to lure him back; it just made Harry irritated with both of them. What if I don't want to get back together with her? But neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to grasp that.
The more Harry tried to push Draco from his mind, the more he thought about him. It was the little things that tricked him. Like a new batch of edible Dark Marks, or the new product they'd introduced; a feather duster that distributed dust rather than shuffling it away. The prank lollies choked him up. Harry secreted away a few of the Marks and a feather duster. He decided Draco wouldn't be terribly amused by the farting unicorn or black tongue sweets, so he left those.
After consulting the clock, he sat up, realizing he must've dozed off, as it was half four now and they needed to head to Borgin & Burkes to try to get into the chamber again. The store had surprisingly high turnover of merchandise and it was becoming quite tiresome to try and remember what they'd looked at before. Hermione had started to take extensive notes on what went where, accompanying it with sketches.
Harry was quite frustrated. They hadn't even a clue as to where the chamber might be-- let alone what horrors there might be awaiting them.
--
"What if there are spiders?" Ron asked again as Harry sat down to go through a trunk that he knew wouldn't hold the key, but needed searching anyway. They had taken some of the black darkness powder (that the twins had managed to hold back from the Ministry's seizure) to keep the front of Borgin's dark while they used their lighted wands to search.
The store hadn't looked as big as it was from the outside. It had to be wizard space, but Harry had started the glum theory that the store was actually growing. "Then there will be spiders. But given who Riddle is, I think it's more likely to be snakes," said Harry.
Hermione sighed, flipping through the pages of notes and then shaking her head at the human bones on the tray. "Well there are snakes; I'd think Voldemort would've tried to change it since he knows you're a Parselmouth, Harry."
"Does he know that?" Harry furrowed his brows and then wrenched his hand back from something slimy in the trunk. He looked at the black goop in his hand and wrinkled his nose.
"OF COURSE!" Hermione exclaimed. She threw her notepad towards a wall.
"Well, I'm glad you're so sure. I don't think he was in my head when I talked to snakes, but then again, I guess if he's figured out I've opened the Chamber… not that he's kept particularly brilliant track of things like that in the past. You know, for an evil genius--"
"No, not that. Harry! We've been going about this the wrong way. How many things have we seen in this shop that have remained here than a couple of days?" She crossed her arms and looked at the boys expectantly.
Harry took in her frazzled hair and tired, but bright eyes. "Er... I don't know?"
"What about that necklace?" She prompted.
Darting a glance around the store quickly, finally resting on the glass case where it had lived, Harry saw that it had been replaced by what appeared to be a jewel-encrusted werewolf head of all things. "Er, didn't Malfoy buy that? It should be in the Ministry's hands."
Hermione stomped her foot. "No, no, no, Harry! Where did you look for it? Where did you know to look for an item that hadn't moved for a couple of years?"
"The glass case?" Realization dawned on Harry and he stood up and dodged through the narrow stacks of merchandise to get to the case. "Of course. The fixtures-- those don't change. The register is always in that corner as well, do you think it could be that?" he asked as he started to look over the case.
"Borgin would never have let Riddle alone with his money. Probably never rang up a bloody thing," said Ron as he followed Harry. "Try Parseltongue."
Harry nodded and hissed, "Open up." No such luck. He turned back to Ron, "Well, I guess we can't expect everything to be that easy."
"You're still hissing. That's creepy," Ron fussed at Harry's continued use of Parseltongue.
Clearing his throat, he went back to English, "Sorry." Harry looked over the case again, finally settling his gaze on the base. At the bottom of it was a black pillar, but upon further examination with his wand pressed against it, Harry saw tiny creases in strange patterns over the serpentine-heavy stone. "A puzzle box?" He sat back and looked up at his friends, settling on Ron.
Ron lit up. "I love those!" They switched places and Harry stood behind him, watching Ron crawl around the floor, searching out intentional lines in the black marble. His fingers slid along the glossy black, prodding now and then to test different surfaces. Tapping with his index finger, he finally moved to the opposite side and pushed.
There was a high-pitched squeal of stone sliding together and then one segment of the base shifted and stuck out at the other end. Ron scrambled up and moved to that side, meticulously pushing the pieces around until one stopped, stuck and zapped Ron's hand. Immediately it bubbled up in puss-filled blisters. "Ow! Sodding Slytherin sadist!"
Hermione sighed and muttered a counter curse that appeared to at least halt the blistering. "It's the best I can do now. Hold on." She pulled off her sweater and wrapped it around Ron's hand. He winced, but thanked her and they traded a quick kiss, which Harry turned his back to. After a few more pushes on the black box, the glass case turned slowly, winding down to reveal a sinking spiral staircase.
Harry started down it and looked up at Hermione and Ron, half hoping that they would be sensible and stay where it was safe. "There might be spiders, Ron."
"I'll make them tap dance," he teased, nudging Harry, in spite of his blanching at the notion.
Hermione wrapped an arm around Ron and another around Harry. "We're here, Harry. No matter what."
As the staircase reached the bottom of the pitch-black pit, Harry squinted to get his bearings. It seemed that his wand did very little good against the dimness, as if Tom Riddle had discovered the darkness powder before the twins and coated the chamber with it. All at once the gloom subsided and all around him were Dementors. Harry felt woozy and grabbed onto Ron.
"Spiders!" screeched Ron.
"Oh, no I've failed!" shrieked Hermione.
Harry closed his eyes; trying desperately to concentrate on his happiest memory as he felt the cold, slimy hands of a Dementor on his throat.
Hold on. His mind rapidly wrapped around what he'd heard the others say and as he felt them cowering against him, knowing they were seeing something vastly different than his vision hundreds of Dementors. Pointing his wand blindly, he shouted, "Riddikulus!"
The spell emanated from his wand in a blinding flash of yellow-white light, pouring out to cover each of the Dementor-Boggarts. One-by-one they popped into the first thing that had entered Harry's mind.
Harry's jaw dropped and Ron grabbed his arm. "Now I'm really scared, Harry."
While Harry knew that laugher was the best way to stave off Boggarts, he wasn't entirely sure what sexual arousal would do. He tried not to look at the willowy Boggarts surrounding him with their soft skin, fishnets and swishing tutus. Instead, he looked at Hermione, who had a mildly disapproving look on her face. He let out a nervous laugh.
Hermione nodded and let out a forced-sounding laugh as the hundreds of Dracos in their little black uniforms and pert arses in frilly knickers all started to flee, tripping over themselves and scrambling over each other to escape the laughter.
Ron started to laugh for real. "If only it were that easy to get rid of Malfoy." He looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye, but just slapped him on the back.
As the crowd of Dracos began to clear, they saw a lighted pedestal with the shield atop it a the end of the long hall. Well, Harry glanced at it before leering at one of the Dracos crawling away, his pettipantied arse flexing and straining under the stretchy, sheer fabric as the frills of the petticoat dragged along the floor.
"Harry!" Ron yanked his arm to pull him out of his daze.
"Right then." Harry tried to ignore the looks his friends were giving him by rushing up to the pedestal. He was knocked back by an incredible gust of wind. Fortunately, Ron and Hermione caught him before he fell to the hard floor. Now his face was bright red with windburn. Hermione slid her hand over it and looked back at the shield.
Upon closer examination (or at least as close as they could get), it was quite ornate and silver with an attacking bronze eagle on the front and a large R inlaid with mother of pearl and bone. While Harry realized from his brief encounter that there were swirling currents of wind around it, he could not see them. He pulled off his cloak and eyed Ron and Hermione. They both shrugged. Throwing the garment at the shield, it got caught up in the momentum of the swirling wind and then was summarily ripped apart. Thread and swatches of material were spat back at them as they shielded their faces from the onslaught.
"That seems bad," Ron said.
Harry nodded, "Really bad."
Hermione was pensive. "So, Dumbledore's arm was withered and looked burned. Fire. And the two of you went down into a lake, so that's water. This would be air. It would figure that Riddle would incorporate the elements. There's much strength to be derived from it, not to mention the synchronicity."
"Great theory, although there's seven Horcruxes. Seven seems to be Voldemort's favoured number," Harry pointed out.
"Maybe it's just coincidence, but I don't think so," said Hermione.
Harry shrugged and looked at her, wondering what the element for a journal or a ring was, but he didn't want to push it. The Boggarts seemed to be catching on to their lack of humour, and were making their stiletto-heeled way back towards them.
"Hm, the opposite of wind is earth, isn't it?" asked Hermione.
"Great, let's throw some earth in there, then we can all have sand in our eyes, be attacked by Boggarts, and still not have the shield." Harry didn't mean to be snappy but he was becoming unnerved and he didn't know quite how to handle it. The Boggarts were losing their Draco shape and Harry wasn't sure he could put up another massive spell and still have the energy for this task.
"What else stops wind?" Hermione pondered.
"Walls," Ron answered in a flat tone.
"Walls." Hermione looked at Ron seriously for a moment and then nodded. "Then we'll have to become walls for Harry."
"What?" Harry looked between them in confusion. Ron shrugged and looked at Hermione.
"Anything the wind can get through will rip apart. We saw that with your cloak. It's porous. If we're transfigured into walls, then we can't be torn." Hermione nodded and tested how close she could get to the shield before she endured a few scrapes with her hand.
There were a lot of things Harry didn't know; one of them was how to turn his friends into walls. Not in the literal sense, because Hermione was teaching him that spell already. What he didn't know how to do was to use these spells in order to intentionally put his best friends in harm's way. He appealed to Ron, "I don't... I can't do this. What if it doesn't work? What if I lose you?"
"Harry, you won't lose us. That's why Dumbledore told you to tell us these things, because we're to protect you. In a lot of ways we're already your walls. This is who we are. This is what we do. We're your team. Hermione and I are here to help you. Even Draco, in a rather... twisted way," he said, looking over her shoulder at the gathering Boggarts whose faces were melting into spiders and looked quite eager to eat him, "is here. So just do it."
Harry looked to the changing half-Draco-half-Dementor Boggarts and it spurred him on. Ron clapped his hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, mate. You know Hermione knows what she's doing."
She looked less certain than Ron, but Harry decided to put that out of his mind as he cast the freshly-learned spells. She froze first and then spread into a hard, opalescent marble wall. He pushed her with magic, knowing there was no way he could physically move a giant slab, until she butted up against the pedestal. The shield wobbled, but did not fall. Nodding to Ron, he then followed the procedure with him, creating a V angle in which to walk through to get his prize.
Testing the area between the whirling vortex with his hand, he found there to be no wind and walked unscathed to the stand and pulled the shield down. The action caused a loud wailing as the entire room filled with the vicious wind. Boggarts were torn to shreds, left in indecorous pieces of frayed fabric, blood and bone all over the slickening, dark floor. Harry nearly panicked, but wedged between his friends, the wind wasn't able to touch him. Using his wand to pull them so close to him that he could barely move, he headed towards the rolling stairwell, dragging his marbleized friends inch-by-inch along the hall.
The culvert in which the spiral staircase stood was narrow. Harry slipped into it and then set his hand on the edge of Hermione's marble facade. The wind bit at his wrist, gashing it and the side of his face as he ended the incantation and yanked Hermione in with him. He repeated that with the dark red stone of Ron's marble. They were scratched and wind-burnt, but otherwise unscathed.
--
The day was marching on into evening and Harry sat outside of the Burrow listening to the ordinary sounds of the Weasley household preparing for dinner. The actual destruction of the Horcrux had been somewhat anticlimactic. When they'd run up the spiraling staircase, daylight was just starting to break out on the horizon. Ron had quickly gotten the glass case to seal up and they were careful to restore everything to how it had been so that their presence would be undetected.
Ron suggested that they destroy the Horcrux somewhere neutral. Harry suspected Ron just wanted to get him closer to Ginny again. So it was that they'd come to the Burrow. Harry drove the elfin dagger through the breast of the bronze eagle, shattering the inlay. He didn't know what came out of the ring, but thus far he'd witnessed ink from the journal and blood from the pictures. The shield, however, simply crumbled, fading from a solid, gleaming metal to chalky ash. Ashes to ashes, Tom, Harry thought.
He ran his hand through the fine silt, thinking about how eventually he was going to have to kill someone. It wasn't that Voldemort didn't deserve it; quite the opposite if such an argument could be made. He knew he would do it. He knew he could. It just made him incredibly sad to know that he had to. If he didn't, Voldemort wouldn't stop. There would be no quarter, no mercy from his end. Harry could show none either.
Ginny took a spot next to Harry; the scent of flowers awoke him to her presence just before she reached for his dusty hand. "You're that much closer to being finished, Harry," she said, interlacing their fingers. She rested her head on his shoulder.
Harry fought the urge to recoil. He grit his teeth as something stabbed into his shoulder. That was when he remembered the earrings that she was so proud of Seamus giving her. He clenched his jaw and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
She squeezed his hand. "I'm glad. I've really missed you, you know. We can finally get back together and move on with our lives."
Briefly, Harry wondered if Ginny shouldn't be in school. He didn't remember her being here when they arrived. Did Ron tell the rest of the Weasleys about his outburst over Draco? He wondered if that was why Ginny was here now.
"Harry, are you listening to me?" Ginny asked, lifting her head from his shoulder.
"Sorry, I was just--" Harry turned back to face her, only to be confronted with her lips on his. He shoved her back by her shoulders. He felt something inside of him break. It wasn't just that he wanted Draco, he knew now more than ever that he didn't want Ginny.
"Ron's right, you really are a fag," she hissed. Her face was filled with the fury of rejection, and perhaps if she'd said anything else Harry would've empathized.
"You taste like Seamus." He felt a savage glee in her bewildered expression. That he'd never kissed Seamus (nor wanted to) didn't matter, that flicker of doubt and hurt in her eyes was all he wanted.
"You... you're... you didn't..." she insisted as she scrambled up to her feet.
Harry also stood-- his face impassive to fan her doubt. He glared at the back of her head as she ran back to the house. Only then did he exhale, simultaneously proud and furious with himself for his cruelty. He toed his trainer into the ash and then finally kicked it around till it was nothing but a thin veil of whiteness on the patchily grassed ground. He looked up at the Burrow, which had gone eerily silent as they tried to deal with whatever Ginny was telling them.
Feeling a definite chill in the air that had nothing to do with the sun going down, he made up his mind to head back to Spinner's End. He closed his eyes, trying not to think of how angry Ron and Hermione were going to be that he left without them. After the loyalty they'd shown him, they deserved better than this. He prayed they'd understand and follow him after dinner. With a loud crack Harry Disapparated.