Title: Stand By
Author: Danea
Previously published under another pen name at a separate site
Summary: After the events of the TriWizard Tournament, Harry finds himself depressed and terribly lonely. Even his closest friends can't see what's wrong. A chance encounter over Winter Break with one of his greatest rivals (no, not Voldermort or Snape) leads Harry down a path he certainly never expected. Rated M for language, mention of abuse/rape (non-descript), slight AU.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I am American, therefore any misuse of British slang is simply ignorance.
Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews! I'm getting the feeling some of you are enjoying my story :) Forgive my slowness in updating this chapter. My son just turned 1 years old (yay!) and I've been super busy with party planning and present wrapping. Sorry! I'll do my best to be quicker next chapter.
The sun was shining through the crack in the curtain of Harry's bed, managing to center right in on him. He groaned, trying to roll away from the light. Though he'd slept well after his nightmare, he still felt tired, mentally and physically. The last 24 hours had come with many varied emotions that he hadn't even began to process yet. He'd never expected to see another day, and yet he was still there, still alive. And that was completely due to Draco Malfoy. Harry wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he did feel as if someone had offered him a second chance at life. However, he wasn't sure he was ready to take it just yet. Not when his thoughts were still haunted by memories he couldn't escape.
Harry roughly rubbed his eyes, as if he could rub away the images burned behind his eyelids. During the day, he usually managed to keep everything locked away, but lately it just seemed to creep into every moment, every thought. It was why he'd made the decision to kill himself. He couldn't bear the idea of living another day in such agony, always tortured by the events of his past. Oddly enough, since the night before, his mind had been too busy focusing on the mystery of Draco Malfoy to let any other thoughts in. The same wasn't true for while he slept, though. No one could stop the nightmares then.
Someone groaned from just outside the curtain, surprising Harry, who knew for a fact that no students were due to return from break until the next day. The noise effective pulled him from his downward spiral of thoughts as he wondered who the culprit could be. Confused, but not afraid, he gently peeked through the curtain, half-expecting to see a house-elf lingering outside the bed. Lying on the next bed over, hair mussed from sleep, was Draco. The light that had woken Harry seemed to be haunting Draco as well, as he tried to bury his head under the pillow.
"Well hello there, Sleeping Beauty," Harry laughed. He tried not to laugh as the other boy jumped in surprise, nearly tumbling off the edge of the bed.
"What the hell?" Draco looked around in confusion.
"Malfoy, what are you still doing here?" Harry asked, still smiling in amusement.
Sitting up clumsily, Draco groaned again. "Oh shit! I must have fallen asleep," Draco swore, tossing the red pillow he'd been holding away from him with a look of disgust. "I can't believe I slept in a Gryffindor's bed! Who knows what sort of diseases I could have caught? How many generations of Gryffindorks have slept here? Oh no! Tell me it's not Longbottom's!"
"No, that's not Neville's," Harry answered, his smile growing. He was enjoying Draco's discomfort too much to be offended at the boy's insults aimed at his house. "Actually, that's Ron's bed."
Draco looked as if he'd just been told the bedding carried the plague. Harry watched as he tried to find a way to climb off of the bed without coming in contact with any part of it. "Do you think I can catch Weasel off these sheets?" Draco asked, nose crinkled in disgust as he eyed the sheets. "When was the last time he bathed?"
Harry laughed, despite the insult to his best friend. The truth was, Harry wouldn't want to sleep in Ron's bed either. Since hitting the peak of puberty, Ron had growing increasingly lax when it came to his personal hygiene. Though Harry would never tell Draco any of this, he still found the blonde boy's insults amusing. "Calm down, Malfoy. I'm fairly sure the sheets have been changed recently," Harry smiled.
"Oh, how reassuring," Draco said, finally managing to slide off the edge of the bed without ever having his skin come in contact with the sheets. "I need to go shower."
Though he seemed very eager to leave, Draco suddenly stopped in the doorway and turned back to where Harry sat. The look in his silver eyes was a strange mix of emotions, some that Harry could hardly decipher. It almost seemed as if he was hesitant to leave, but Harry couldn't imagine why. For a moment, the two boys were silent as Harry waited to find out what Draco could possibly be thinking.
"Potter, don't do anything stupid today, alright?" Draco said quickly, his words coming out in a terse jumble.
"What?"
"Look...our deal is based solely on your existence. If you're dead, than the deal is off, got it?" Draco attempted a smug sneer, but it crumbled into a frown. "So don't think just because I agreed not to blab, you are free to off yourself again. Because if you do, I'll go running to the press so quick, you'll spin in your grave."
"Okay," Harry agreed softly. He was becoming increasingly unnerved by the look in Draco's eyes.
"Well, good," Draco said, sounding a bit confused, as if he had been ready for a fight. "Then I expect to see you tonight to finish my DADA homework. We'll meet in the library, got it?"
"Fine, Malfoy. After dinner, in the library."
Draco hesitated another minute in the doorway before leaving. His footsteps echoed lightly in the silent dorm, gradually fading away. Harry heard the portrait swing shut and then it was quiet. The brief conversation had certainly been strange, and Harry added it to the list of events he had yet to process. Sighing, he decided to put off thinking about everything for a little bit longer and just take a shower instead.
Harry turned the hot water up as high as it would go in the shower, filling the bathroom with steam and clouding the mirrors. During the school term, there was little time for Harry to enjoy a quiet shower, but he'd taken advantage of the decreased student population over the break to luxuriate in the endless supply of hot water. As he undressed, tossing his sleeping clothes into a pile by the door, Harry caught sight of the light scars that marred the skin of his forearms. Draco's spell had been strong. The scars were nearly all healed.
He traced a finger along the pink lines, sending tingles through the healing skin. In a strange way, he hoped the scars didn't heal completely. Though killing himself seemed less like a reality and more like a passing fancy at the moment, he didn't want to forget where his desperation to escape the memories had taken him. If Draco hadn't walked in to the Gryffindor dorm room exactly when he did, Harry knew he wouldn't be alive. But Draco had, and there was no point following that train of thought. Because of the deal Harry had made to protect Sirius, there was no way he was going anywhere soon.
Stepping into the shower, Harry allowed the hot water to melt away his thoughts, imagining them swirling away down the drain with the water. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and let the water flow over him.
"Potter, I think I left my..." Draco drifted off as he entered the bathroom, catching sight of Harry standing under the steaming water.
Harry sighed, upset at having his shower interrupted. He opened his eyes slowly, glaring at Draco through the water. "Yes, Malfoy?" he asked, drawing out the words into a decent imitation of Draco's drawl.
Draco looked startled and a bit uncomfortable, his gaze firmly on the floor. "I think I left my cloak here. But I couldn't find it," he said. "I thought you might have moved it. Or burnt it."
"Nope, sorry. I haven't seen it," Harry shrugged. He kept waiting for Draco to move towards the door, but the other boy seemed frozen in place. "Is there anything else?" Harry asked, the hint of a smirk pulling on his lips.
"No. That's...uh...it," Draco said, clearing his throat nervously.
Harry was immensely amused by the other boys obvious unease. "Are you waiting for me to invite you in, Malfoy?"
"What?" Draco's head popped up, meeting Harry's gaze for half a second before he spun on his heel abruptly, turning to face the wall. "You're mental, Potter! As if I'd want to shower with you," he sneered. "Don't make me ill!" Harry laughed in response, seeming to upset Draco even more, as the blonde turned an interesting shade of red.
Draco growled in anger, not saying another word as he stalked out of the bathroom suddenly. Harry could hear him stomping down the hall, slamming the door behind him. Though he was now free to finish his shower, the calm mood had been broken, so Harry shut off the water and stepped out.
His reflection in the mirror caught his eye across the room. How was he, a skinny, scrawny, runt, expected to beat the Dark Lord? Sure, he'd been lucky enough to escape before. But luck would only take him so far. Someday he'd be standing toe to toe with Voldermort once more, and he'd have nothing but himself to rely on. In his personal opinion, he didn't stand a chance in hell. The sight of his small frame only depressed Harry once more. As it stood now, he wouldn't have to worry about trying killing himself again. He could just wait for Voldermort's next attack.
As if just thinking the name had summoned it, Harry was suddenly struck by a brutal flash of pain, centering at his scar.The intensityfaded quickly, but the pain remained a dull, throbbing ache. Voldermort seemed to be busy, whatever he was doing. Not that Harry was in an hurry to find out. He had a feeling it would be a long day.