Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.
Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world.
Chapter Eight: Some Secrets to be Told
If Remus had learnt anything over the years, it was that Harry Potter was a stubborn boy, and if he didn't want to tell one about something, he wouldn't. So instead of going looking for Harry to get the story of what had happened to cause such an about face in his behaviour regarding his school-nemesis, he instead decided to search out Draco Malfoy.
He made his way through number Twelve, Grimmauld Place methodically, searching the rooms on the main level first, and working his way up. As he was searching, he continued to think back on his earlier thought. It was entirely possible that Harry was still a virgin; after all, there wasn't much of an opportunity for him to have been intimate with anyone. Those he may have been intimate with, with the exception of Ginevra Weasley, would most likely have gone straight to the press. But an honour debt? Held by Draco Malfoy? Remus wasn't certain how that could have come about. After all, Harry had been safe at his relatives. There was no way on earth something that horrible could have happened to Harry. Let alone something that would have made Harry grateful for the cold-blooded murder of his uncle.
"Harry, you can tell us what happened. No matter what we'll always care about you." Hermione's voice drifted down the stairs towards him, and Remus paused, listening to the conversation between the three friends.
"Yeah, mate. You don't have to defend that ferret. He should be sent straight off to Azkaban just like his daddy. I mean, he killed your uncle!"
"And like I said, he should be thanked for that."
"But what happened? Surely you can tell us that much."
"Look, I know you guys are my best mates and all, but I just… I can't talk about it. Not right now. Ask Malfoy—"
"Harry, you can't defend the bloody git." Ron sneered, his voice sounding closer now as he stormed out of the room. "He killed your uncle, and the only reason why he hasn't been bloody well beaten, or taken to Azkaban is because of you. So if I were you, I'd watch your pet ferret carefully, or he may just wind up missing." He stormed down the stairs, breezing by Remus without seeming to even notice his presence.
Silence reigned for a few minutes upstairs before Hermione's voice cut through softly. "You know, you can tell us anything."
"I know, 'Mione. It's just… talking about it is too hard. I really am grateful to Malfoy. I know you don't understand it, but trust me. He saved me that night."
"I'll trust you, Harry. But not him. He still needs to prove himself to us. I'll talk to Ron; see if I can't at least talk some sense into him."
Remus opened the door, taking in the scene of the two sitting on the bed together. Harry's eyes were dark; the light almost faded completely within and for the first time Remus began to believe what his instincts had been telling him all along—something horrible had happened to Harry. Hermione patted Harry's hand and stood up. "You know where to find me if you need to talk." She smiled at Remus, and left the room, ignoring Harry's none-too-subtle snort, and muttering of the word 'library'.
"Are you going to yell at me for protecting Malfoy, too, Professor?" Harry's voice was weary, tired of the constant questioning he had faced since he had arrived here with Draco.
"No, pup. I think I'm starting to understand a little bit, but I would prefer it if you'd just tell me." Harry's eyes snapped up to his, shimmering momentarily with the fire that used to encompass everything Harry said and did. The fire quickly faded, leaving behind the empty depths that were a cause of worry to his friends.
"I can't, Remus. I'm sorry, but as I said to the others, I can't talk about it yet. Ask Malfoy. He was there for some of it." His hands clenched the sheets on the bed, twisting them worriedly.
"Do you know where he is, then?" Remus frowned slightly, he'd been almost positive that Draco wouldn't have gone far from Harry, yet he hadn't been anywhere he'd checked.
"Check the potions lab in the basement." A slight smile twisted Harry's lips as he muttered. "It seems even if Snape isn't trusted we'll still have someone here who can help with potions at least." Remus' hearing picked up on the last bit, but he refused to think on it.
Nodding his thanks, Remus left the room, still puzzling over the mystery that was Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.
-HDHDHDHD-
The smell of potions brewing filled the air of the small potions lab. He'd stumbled upon it completely by accident it seemed-- he'd turned too fast earlier and his elbow caught the edge of a cabinet, nudging it out of the way. Behind the cabinet had been a door that led to a small potions lab, fully stocked. There had been quite a few potions under a stasis spell, left there by who could only be Severus Snape, before that night. When Draco had looked around something in him told him that this is where he had to be, and he'd set out to start work on some minor potions.
It seemed that in the time he'd spent in this house he'd done one of three things; stayed with Harry, or in his room, and last of all, worked in this potions laboratory. It had started out with a yearning for a headache draught, and from there to needing a calming draught. With all the stress, and the unspoken threats sent his way from the Weasel, was it any wonder Draco wanted these potions? And so he'd ended up spending a fair bit of time in the potions lab.
It was a calming draught he'd been working on before he'd seen Harry last, and Draco sighed softly, his fingers lightly touching the locket he wore underneath his robes. They'd fought, and Draco knew that was something he shouldn't be doing; not now, not when his life rested in Harry's talented, slender, sexy hands. 'Bloody hell, did I just call Potter's hands sexy?' He definitely needed that calming draught now. Not that he hadn't known for a long time that he was attracted to Harry, but he'd always thought he wasn't that way. Then again, he still doubted he stood much of a chance at making Harry his. Sighing, Draco pushed the lever to open the door to the lab and stepped in, inhaling the calming fumes from the potions still brewing.
He was ladling the potion into several phials carefully when he heard a noise behind him. Whirling, Draco dropped the phial he held half-filled and drew his wand in one smooth movement. Remus was standing behind him, and Draco hummed his relief softly. Even now, he was still jumpy. He had no idea how Harry had managed to survive with those muggles as long as he had, especially considering what they had put him through. In the short time that Draco had been there with Harry he'd begun to learn that nothing was as it had seemed about the Gryffindor Golden Boy.
Affixing his customary sneer into place, Draco looked at Remus, his eyes narrowing. He knew that look; the one that said he wanted something from Draco and he intended to get it. "Tell me what happened to Harry." Draco startled slightly, a flash of pain ripping through his chest at the reminder, the request to live through it again.
"You really should ask Potter that yourself. I see no reason to tell you about it." The sneer faded slightly as Remus merely looked at him, one eyebrow lifted as though to ask if that was all that Draco had.
"I have already spoken with him, Draco, and he suggested I ask you. It seems it's too painful for him to speak of it." Frowning, Remus stared off into space for a moment, carefully considering his words before continuing. "I've known Harry since your third year, and if he's sent me to ask you about it, then I think he really does want me to know."
Frowning, Draco thought about it. "I hope you have a strong stomach." He waved off the questioning glance from Remus, and lifted a phial already filled with the gold calming draught and quickly swallowed it down.
"You have to understand, I didn't hurt Potter. It's funny really, when I first followed him I thought he was getting just what he deserved." A bitter laugh escaped Draco as he pulled up a seat, closing his eyes.
"You've met those Muggles, I'm sure, but you've only seen the persona, the façade. They're nothing like that, at least not to Potter. Merlin, he wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything…" Sighing softly, Draco shook his head. "From the first moment they were alone the uncle started hitting Potter. Not gentle taps, either. He was really hitting him, the way you hit someone you hate, the way Potter and I used to hit each other." Again, that bitter laughter filled the air in the small lab.
"The hitting wasn't so bad, you know? With everything we'd been through, I kept thinking he deserved it. But then I saw how it was to live there. The fear was nothing… the begging look, Professor, that look that he was begging them for just food made me sick." His throat felt tight, and Draco swallowed, taking another sip of calming draught to help him finish. "The worst though… the worst was the nights.
"Have you ever been raped, Professor? Have you ever watched someone be raped in front of you every bloody night and been able to stop yourself from doing something to help? After his uncle left he'd get drunk. Perfect Potter, would get drunk, and talk to a dead man, confessing everything-- every bloody detail of his life.
"And do you know why Harry thanks me for killing the man?" Draco opened his silver eyes to look into Remus' tear-filled amber ones. "Because his sodding uncle was about to take his virginity. The one thing Harry swore he was saving for someone he loved, because he feels he isn't worth anyone anymore. He feels like all he's good for is killing off the Dark Lord, and sex."
Distantly, Draco was aware of the fact that the man in front of him had broken down, but he continued in a soft voice, revealing to himself if no one else just what was going on within his own head. "He shouldn't think like that, though-- because he is worthy of love. And I wish…" 'I wish he was mine…' "I wish he would stop thanking me. I just stood by and watched for too long…"
Tears slid down Hermione's cheeks as she stepped away from the potions lab and headed towards the relative quiet of the library. 'Oh. Harry,' she thought to herself, wishing that he had told them sooner, that they could have helped him. But how? She knew that Harry had had no choice but to go back, the blood protection he needed was there. She wiped at her cheeks, and shook her head. She understood now why Harry was so adamant about not blaming Draco for what he had done. In light of that, she needed to convince Ron to let things remain as they were.
-HDHDHDHD-
The knock on Harry's bedroom door was soft, and the door opened immediately, allowing the slim form of Draco to slip into the room, a bottle of firewhiskey in hand. Harry lifted an eyebrow and watched as Draco set up the shot glasses on the bedside table and sat down next to him. "So is there a point to this then?" Harry asked, pouring out the shots carefully, handing one glass to Draco
Draco shrugged, and lifted his glass in a silent toast and tilted his head back, allowing the alcohol to slide down his throat, lighting its fire behind it. "Why won't you tell them? And don't give me that 'it's too hard' bullshit, that you've been spouting off to everyone else. If it was too bloody hard for them to know then you wouldn't be telling them to ask me."
Harry sighed, looking into his own glass before tossing the whiskey back. "It's the face they'll make. Hermione's will be full of pity; Ron's disgust; Remus will be sickened." He poured out the shots again, drinking his down and quickly filling the glass again before lifting emerald eyes to look into Draco's silver ones. "Normally they look like I can save them. Same with you and Snape, y'know. I'm the bloody saviour, yeah? If they knew what my uncle was doing, they wouldn't look at me like that anymore. They need their hope. Besides, they aren't going to talk to you. I know Ron too well for that."
Draco laughed, the sound falling just a tad short of being mocking. "Your pet werewolf already did ask me about it. So did the older Weasley brothers – very good looking, I might add. Especially the second one." Draco smirked, drinking the shot quickly and holding it out for a refill. "I told them. Not everything, but enough. Surprisingly, I didn't tell them that you fancy blokes, or the other nonsense you told my cousin. Of course we'll have to discuss just what you owe me for my silence." He sneered, finishing off the shot and holding his glass out for another. Already the world was beginning to seem fuzzy, colours blurring together, and beside him he could smell Harry, and he smelt amazing.
"What I owe you for your silence? You bloody Slytherin. As though letting you stay in my house where Voldemort can't get you isn't enough…" Harry scowled, before lifting his chin. "Well, I could always tell the other's about you kissing me, or how about how you would tuck me into bed at night." Harry smirked, still looking at Draco. He'd been guessing about the tucking in part, but judging by the way Draco had flushed he decided he must have been spot-on. Although, now that he thought back on it, the kiss and tucking in had been rather… nice. Sighing softly, Harry turned in the bed to rest his back against the headboard, frowning slightly at Draco. "Besides, they probably won't believe you, even if you did tell them."
Draco lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug. "Maybe. Maybe not. But we won't know unless we try. Anyway, they wouldn't believe you if you told them about me kissing you, let alone tucking you in. Therefore, I still think you owe me for me silence." He paused, thinking over what he wanted in return. Or rather, he knew what he wanted… what he'd wanted for years, and only recently decided he could have. Harry. He was leaning forward slightly when there was a loud thump from downstairs.
Harry frowned, scrambling out of bed and heading towards the door with a small limp. "Someone just floo'd in."
-HDHDHDHD-
Harry and Draco made there way down the stairs as fast as they could. After Harry almost tripped once he gave in and had one arm slung around Draco's shoulders, limping along as quickly as he could. He still couldn't stomach holding his wand, not after what his uncle had done, so instead he was on Draco's right side so he could hold his wand. It was funny, almost. Harry smiled slightly to himself, 'he's left-handed, and I'm right-handed. If we're attacked, we could easily duel together, instead of against each other.'
When they finally managed to make it to the bottom of the stairs, thankfully without either of them falling and getting hurt, they could hear the sound of a group of people talking from the living room. Frowning, Harry nudged open the door. It was chaos in the room, but his eyes soon discerned that inside was a goodly amount of members from the Order of the Phoenix. What he couldn't understand was why they were all there.
Pushing the door open further he stepped inside the room, and looked around. In the corner by the fireplace he could see Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody speaking with an angry Ron, who was still waving his arms around, and Harry was certain he could hear the words 'murdering git' spoken quite a few times. Sighing softly, he was about to turn, to tell Draco to go back upstairs, to go anywhere but here when silence filled the air, and Harry twisted back to see that Draco had walked in, wand still in hand. 'Bloody hell.'
The silence was thick before Professor McGonagall swept forward to look at Draco carefully, and Ron's voice rang out. "I told you the murdering git was here! And for some reason Harry thinks this was a right good idea!"
With the silence broken it sounded like everyone was talking over one another, and Tonks frowned slightly before extending a hand towards Draco. "'wotcher cuz!" Draco frowned slightly, and looked at Harry before reaching forward to shake her hand lightly, mentally going over the family tree in his head.
"Nymphadora, a pleasure, I'm sure." He smiled charmingly, impeccable manners taking over, and bowed over her hand, dropping a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
"And that was your one free shot at calling me by that name. Call me Tonks." She grinned, ignoring the looks that were shot her way as her hair morphed to green to show her support.
"Alright, boy," Moody scowled at Harry as he stomped forward. "You mind telling me just why we shouldn't be carting this here brat off to Azkaban for murdering a Muggle with the Killing Curse?"