Chapter four: hiding in plain sight
Draco set his plan into motion the very next day after lunch. Instead of going back up to Harry's room to do more homework, he instead went outside with Harry.
Harry was raking the lawn for bits of lose grass (Harry had explained what it was he was doing after the first time Draco had seen him). It was a blistering hot day so the Gryffindor had shed his shirt. The sun was glistening off of his bare torso, sweat was sliding across his hard and well defined muscles and Draco was drooling.
"What are you doing our here Malfoy?" Harry's voice broke Draco out of his reverie. He quickly slipped into his mask and turned to the other boy.
"I wasn't aware it was a crime to want to enjoy a beautiful day outdoors." He smirked. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"It's not. But that's not why you're out here." He said in a matter-of-fact tone and leaned against the rake.
"Well if you must know…" Draco said with a glare as he thought for an excuse.
"I must" Harry answered a challenge in his voice and a smirk of his own on his lips. Draco's glare intensified as an image of Draco taking that smirk off Harry's lips with his own popped up suddenly before his eyes.
"I can't stand to be coped up in that house any longer. I thought I could do with some exercise. You didn't think I got this amazing physique naturally, did you? I've got to stay in shape for Quidditch." He said stretching his arms relishing in the way his muscles rippled with the movement. He let a small sigh escape his lips. It felt so good to be out in the fresh air gearing up for a work-out.
Draco opened his eyes and was a little shocked to find Harry staring at him. He had forgotten that the other boy had been there.
"Are you serious?" He asked his emerald eyes sweeping over Draco rendering him speechless so he just nodded. Harry answered with a nod of his own before dropping the rake and disappearing into the shed. A few moments later he came back out carrying a round black and white ball a little smaller than a Quaffle.
"This is a football," he said rolling the ball between his hands. "It's used in a muggle game. Basically you have to get the ball from one end of the field to the other without using you hands." He put the ball on the ground. "you can kick it," and he demonstrated by kicking the ball a few inches away, "bounce it on your knee," he then flicked up the ball using the tip of his foot and gave it two bounces on his knee before he let it drop. "Or you can use you head," and then he flicked it up again but this time higher and hit the ball with his head then caught it. "I once heard of a guy who caught the ball on his back, and then he turned around real quick and kicked it sending it into the goal." He said staring at the ball in his hands.
Then he looked up at Draco who was also staring at the ball.
"I know you're a seeker and I know in Quidditch you can use you hands but football's a good work-out if that's what you're looking for. Besides," he gave Draco a small smile and then dropped the ball and bounced it with his knee straight to Draco whose reflexes caused him to catch it. "Its fun," Harry laughed at the shocked expression on Draco's face.
Draco looked at the ball that was now in his hands. It was heavier than a Quaffle but light enough. He looked from the ball to Harry and back again. Then he experimented with it a bit. He dropped it and brought up his knee to meet it. The ball bounced off neatly and jumped back up into his hands.
He looked up at Harry, surprise written across his face. Harry smiled encouragingly and gestured for him to continue. So Draco dropped the ball a couple more times and bounced it back up with his knees. Then he got into it and bounced it twice before catching it again.
He let out a sound of surprise and looked up at Harry his eyes glowing with excitement and joy. Harry couldn't help but laugh. He looked like a child who just learned how to walk for the first time.
"You have fun," Harry said laughing. "I've got work to do."
Draco nodded distractedly as his attention was once again consumed by the ball in his hands.
He continued to experimentally bounce it between his knees and once sending it up high enough to hit it with his head. Deciding, that it was worth his effort, Draco shed his black t-shirt which was now clinging to him with sweat due to the intense heat, and let the ball drop to the ground.
At first he just kicked the ball back and forth between his feet and moved a bit with the ball.
"That's called dribbling," Harry called from the garden where he was now pulling weeds. Draco didn't look up but nodded that he had heard and continued to dribble the ball up and down the length of the back yard.
His feet soon grew accustomed to the ball between them and began to kick it a bit further than chase after it just to kick it further still. He quickly figured out that he had to place his foot on top of the ball to get it to stop moving.
He flipped the ball in the air and did his best to keep it in the air by using a combination of his feet, knees and his head.
Draco was a natural. He moved gracefully with the ball and had a finesse that was essential to keep the ball moving without using your hands. Football was different than Quidditch. And different didn't necessarily mean bad, unlike what his father tried to lead him to believe.
In fact, Draco was really beginning to enjoy football. He liked it for its differences from Quidditch. In a Quidditch match there were always so many components. Draco had to watch his teammates, since he was now the captain, he had to keep an eye out for the snitch, watch Harry and make sure he kept control over his broom.
Draco thought that the last one was the most difficult. Its not that he didn't like flying or that he wasn't any good. He was, in fact, a natural flier. He rode his first broom when he was six. His father bought him a baby Numbus. The small broom had immediately floated into Draco's hand and levitated in front of him waiting for him to mount.
Draco had flown that thing, or rather levitated it since it would go more than five feet of the ground, all around the backyard. From morning till night until he outgrew it.
Then five years later in his first year at Hogwarts he quickly, though not as quickly as Harry, got the broom to come into his hand. It felt so natural for Draco to be on a broom. It felt almost right to be up in the sky. He loved the freedom a broom provided.
Whenever life got too suffocating Draco would grab his broom and take off. Whenever his parents were fighting or his father was looking for someone to take his anger out on Draco would take his broom and go join the clouds.
But in Quidditch he wasn't allowed to freely float amongst the clouds. He had to hover above the other players to look for the snitch and to watch his players. When he played a Quidditch game he felt tied to the Earth when he shouldn't be. Not to mention that he always lost against Harry.
Don't get him wrong, Draco did love Quidditch. He did love the exhilarating dives and chases for the snitch, the competition and the competitive nature of it all. There was nothing wrong with the most popular game in the Wizarding World. He just happen to like the muggle sport of football as well.
So here he was kicking a muggle ball on the ground in Harry Potter's backyard and he was happy.
Draco quickly let the physical activity overcome his thoughts. He dropped to the ground for push-ups. First he did fifty regular push-ups, then wide, diamond and finishing with one-handed. Flipping onto his back he then did fifty regular crunches, and then fifty sideways.
He got to his feet and picked up the muggle ball once again. Bouncing it a couple times on his knee to get use to it once again he quickly got back into the flow. He became a whirlwind of activity. Using his knees, head and any other part of his body he could Draco fought to keep the ball in the air.
When the ball would fall to the ground Draco would take off with it kicking it the length of the backyard and back again. Though the game was a good work-out as Harry had said Draco soon grew tired of it.
Bored with the ball Draco laid on his back and stared up at the sky and was shocked to see that it wasn't the bright blue of the afternoon but rather the soft red and orange of early evening. The clouds that had turned pink by the sinking sun's glow were still floating lazily across the sky. A cool evening breeze swept across Draco's sweaty torso causing him to shiver.
"Are you daft? You're going to catch a cold, lying out here like that," Harry said dropping Draco's t-shirt onto the blond boy's chest. Draco gave a small yelp in surprise; he hadn't heard the other boy's arrival.
Draco quickly pulled the shirt over his head, thankful for the warmth it provided in the quickly cooling evening.
"Aw, I didn't know you cared, Potter." He sneered ignoring the way that thought made his heart flutter.
"I don't," Harry replied as he lay down beside Draco and stared up at the now appearing stars. "But if you died while you're here people will think I had something to do with it. Have to protect my reputation." He said with a hint of teasing in his voice.
"Ah, yes of course." Draco said still sneering. "Isn't there something you should be doing?" he asked hoping to get rid of the annoying boy.
"No," Harry said simply. Draco waited for him to elaborate and when he didn't he sighed in frustrations.
"And why is that?" He could hear the smirk in Harry's voice.
"Because," he said and Draco groaned. He sat up and turned to the Gryffindor.
"Do you know how irritating you are?" he asked. Harry smiled up at him.
"Yes,"
Draco was a bit taken back by his answer.
"Well as along as you know that." Draco pouted and Harry snorted.
"Do you know how adorable you look when you pout?" Harry said in a baby voice and Draco willed himself not to blush at the offhanded comment.
"I'm always adorable," he replied in is most superior Malfoy tone with a dramatic pout. Harry just snorted again. The pair lapsed into silence. Both just staring at the heavens and were lost in their thoughts. Another cool gust of wind sent shivers up both boys' spines.
"I think we should go in now." Harry said making no move to get up.
"Yeah," Draco agreed distractedly but not moving either. Silence once again reclaimed the two until it was broken by the sound of Draco's stomach growling.
Harry gave a small chuckle.
"Guess we better get you something to eat. Having you starve to death won't look too good either." Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry but followed the other boy into the house.
The inside of the house was pitch black.
"Where is everybody?" Draco asked looking around. It felt strange to be in an empty and dark house. He wished he had his wand so he could get them some light. Suddenly, as if reading his mind Harry flipped a switch on the wall and the room was lit.
"I came in here, while you were working out, to start dinner and I found a note. Uncle Vernon is a nominee for employee of the month at work. Seems he sold a lot of drills this month. So he took the family out to celebrate. Probably some fancy dinner where he'll be bending the waiter's ear all about his drills. Poor bloke." Harry informed Draco.
"He took the family out to celebrate? And he didn't take you? Or me for that matter?" He asked incredulously. Harry laughed but it wasn't like the laughs from earlier. There was no joy in it. It was a hard, mirthless, bitter laugh. It made Draco sad to hear such a beautiful thing marred by such ugly feelings.
"He would never take me. He never has. I am just glad he let us stay here and didn't cart us off to Mrs. Figg. Though she is a squib and it probably wouldn't be too horrible," he said the last part more to himself than to Draco. "But at any rate, he probably didn't want our kind to be infecting his celebration."
"Our kind?" Draco asked raising a pale blond eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
Harry's features harden.
"It means that Uncle Vernon is as much of a bigot as your father. The Dursley hate anything that they deem unnatural or abnormal." Harry snarled. Draco didn't answer. He had no idea that Harry's relatives held similar beliefs to his father.
"It's absurd, hating someone just because they aren't just like you are. The Dursley's treated me like shit for fifteen years just because of who my parents were. Just like you and your father do to Muggleborns. They tortured me for something I couldn't change!" Harry was in a full scale rant and it was quite terrifying to see. That is unless you've ever seen Draco Malfoy pissed off, which he was at that moment.
His grey eyes were ablaze giving them the appearance of molten silver.
"Torture? Torture! What do you know of torture?" he said. His was voice low, sharp and deadly and it sliced through Harry's rant succeeding it stopping the other boy dead. Harry opened and closed his mouth looking very much like a goldfish.
"w-what?" he finally choked out.
"You know nothing of torture. Nothing! How dare you throw such a word around. You're so careless. Running off at the mouth about something you know nothing about!" Draco was near shouting know and gesturing wildly with his hands. He just wanted to strike out. He was barely containing his anger.
How could Potter use that word? Did he even know what it means? Throws it around as if it's air while it lies like stone on my heart.
Harry stared at Draco his eyes wide.
"I didn't…I mean I…what?" Harry moaned in helpless confusion.
"You think everything revolves around you," Draco screamed.
"I do not!" Harry cried getting angry now.
"Yes. You. Do" Draco grounded out through clenched teeth. "You think that you're the only one who has ever felt pain, that you're the only one who had a bloody awful childhood, that you're the only one who has ever had a hard time!"
Harry's green eyes flashed in outrage.
"You know nothing about what I think! Besides what do you know about having a hard time? Your Draco friggin' Malfoy! Your life has been all silver platters and golden toilets! You have EVERYTHING! You filthy rich father made sure of that!" Harry shouted.
Draco's aristocratic features twisted into pure fury.
"How dare you! How dare you! You have no right. NO RIGHT! You don't know what my life was like. You don't know! So don't give me this 'you had everything' bullshit. Because you don't know!" Draco screeched as he was assaulted by memories of his past. Harry must have noticed his eyes had taken on a haunted look.
"You're right. I don't know. Anything. I don't know you, Malfoy. I don't! So why don't you tell me, hmm? Why don't you tell me what growing up was like for Draco Malfoy?" Harry bite out cynically.
Draco glared at him.
"Sorry Potter. I can't tell you, not yet." Draco sneered. "I don't trust you."
The two boys glared at each other for a long moment. Grey molded into green. The tension between the two was so thick it was nearly suffocating. Harry was the first to break it.
"I'll get you something to eat." He said quietly his eyes still staring into Draco's as if he was trying to look into the very depths of Draco's soul. Draco gave the slightest of nods to indicate that he had heard him.
Harry gave a nod himself and then broke the connection between the two as he moved past Draco toward the kitchen. Draco was rooted in his spot.
What have I gotten myself into? He thought. He hadn't meant for things to go the way they had. Harry had broken through so many of his defenses. Though Draco had layers upon layers of walls built up from the years of verbal and physical abuse, no one has ever broken through more than one level without Draco consent. And no one has ever come that close to completely shutting down his walls. He had made a dangerous mistake. There was no way he could let Potter get that close again. Because if he did manage to get through Draco didn't think he could build those walls again and it would be too dangerous for him to leave himself vulnerable like that. Especially with a war on the horizon. One that Draco didn't know if he was on the right side of.
Draco heard sounds of cooking come from the kitchen and smells of food wafted through the house. Draco's stomach demanded food loudly and he felt his feet carry him toward the alluring aroma.
As he entered the kitchen, he saw Harry at the stove heating up some spaghetti sauce with meat balls while a pot of noodles boiled next to the sauce on another burner. Draco had gotten the 411 on all the kitchen utensils from Dumbledore. He figured that the old man wanted to be sure that Draco was prepared for anything that might happen. Including having to cook for himself.
Draco seated himself at the kitchen table and watched as Harry quickly made dinner. Harry set a plate in front of Draco without a word.
"Thank-you," Draco whispered and he began to eat. Harry sat at the table with him sipping a cup of tea. Draco swallowed a mouthful of pasta and addressed the black-haired boy.
"You should eat,"
"Not hungry," Harry responded shortly not taking his eyes off of the wall opposite of him.
"You've been working all day, and you hardly ate anything at breakfast or lunch. You really should eat." Draco tried again.
Harry didn't respond. Draco sighed in frustration.
"Here. Take my bread." He said trying to hand Harry a slice of buttered bread.
"I don't want it." Harry said.
"Oh come on, just take it." Draco prodded.
"No, I said 'I don't want it,'" Harry said a bit more forcefully this time.
"Potter, you got to eat." Draco tried to reason with the Gryffindor.
"Dammit Malfoy! I don't want it! Who assigned you to be my keeper!" Harry yelled looking at the blond.
Draco was shocked and …hurt.
"I, uh, well, no one. I just, uh…" He mumbled looking down at his plate hoping Harry wouldn't notice the wounded look in his eyes. It worked; Harry continued to yell at the Slytherin.
"You're not my bloody mother. If I don't want to bloody eat then I won't bloody eat. What is with people consistently telling me what to do? Besides, why do you care?" He shouted.
"You're right." Draco said quietly. Then he looked up, his eyes were cold and hard. And with that he shoved his plateful of spaghetti across the table causing it to fall off the other side and crash to the floor. The plate shattered and spaghetti sauce splattered the walls. Draco just stared at Harry unaffected by the crash. "I don't care."
He then got up and left the room. He felt Harry's eyes follow him.
After leaving the kitchen Draco had gone up to Harry's room. He threw himself on Harry's bed and willed himself not to cry. He had been so stupid. Every time he was around Harry he became an emotional wreck. He always had, just the prominent emotion in the past had been anger but now Draco seemed to be all over the emotional spectrum.
He was up, like this afternoon when Harry had laughed with him and then he was down, like now after fighting with Harry…twice. It was all so confusing. Before when he and Harry fought he always got a thrill out of it. But now he couldn't stand to see those green eyes filled with anger or pain. Especially if he had been the cause.
But then again, in the early years, after Harry had refused his hand in friendship the only interaction with him that Draco got was when they fought. Harry didn't so much as look at him any other time. But now that Draco was living in the same room as Harry he had been privy to having Harry's full attention at times. And it wasn't negative or hostile attention either. And Draco liked it.
But it didn't matter now. If Draco had any hopes that things might change between them, this evening's events had effectively snuffed that idea. Draco would have to guard himself better. He knew it would be folly to try and avoid Harry. Not only would Harry notice but Draco was pretty much squashed in with Harry. He had no where to go but into himself. No more information would pass his lips without some kind of collateral or payment.
Draco lay there a few more moments, letting his thoughts whirl around his head until he heard the door open.
"Malfoy?" Harry called softly. Draco contemplated feigning sleep but figured that was childish. Besides he had to face Harry sooner or later.
"Potter," He called. Harry sighed and fully entered the room. He went over to his desk and sat down heavily in his chair.
"Look, I'm…sorry, ok? I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. It's not your fault. I get that you're just looking out for me. I don't imagine it'd look to good for you either if I dropped dead in front of you." Harry explained and sighed again. "It's just…everyone is always so worried about me. It's always 'is Harry eating enough? Sleeping enough?' y'know"
"But you're not." Draco pointed out.
"Well, I have my reasons," Harry mumbled.
"And those are?" Draco asked sitting up to look at the other boy. Harry shook his head.
"I can't tell you."
"Because you don't trust me," Draco spat out.
"Can you blame me?" Harry as earnestly.
"No," Draco responded. "I haven't given you reason to. Besides, I don't trust you either."
"Do you trust anyone?" Harry asked.
"No" Draco replied coldly. Harry shook his head again.
"That's sad, Malfoy," He said quietly.
"Not really. No one has ever asked for my trust." Draco said defiantly. He didn't want Harry feeling sorry for him. He didn't give his trust out freely especially to people who don't even want it.
"Have you ever trusted anyone?" Harry asked sounding as if he was fishing for some clue that Draco was human.
"Yes, once. I was four. I had an imaginary friend. His name was Jacob. He always knew the most fun games to play when I was bored. And the best hiding spots. They were always deep within the manor. Nearly soundproof. Perfect place to go when father was angry or when he and mum were fighting. I hated it when they fought. They always said the most awful things to each other.
Anyway, Jacob always took care of me. He would always listen when I need someone to talk to. Always knew what to say. He always knew how to make me feel better. He was there after every punishment. Telling me it would be ok, that the pain would stop, I trusted him and you know what? I was ok and the pain did stop, for a while. Then the punishments became more frequent, the pain lasted longer and with each one I was less and less ok.
I stopped listening to Jacob, I stopped trusting him and in the end I stopped believing in him. He was the last person I trusted, the last one to ask for my trust, the last one to care, and he wasn't even real." Draco sat back up. He hadn't realized that he had lain back down while he had been talking. In fact he didn't even realize what he had been saying until now.
Oh shit.
Draco looked over to where Harry was sitting in his desk chair. He had his eyes closed and his head bowed. His shoulders were shaking. He was…crying.
After what felt like an eternity to Draco, Harry finally spoke. His voice was thick with emotion.
"I- I should never had assumed I knew what your life was like. I am sorry." He choked out. Draco was speechless. He didn't know what to say. He had never told anyone about Jacob before, or about his home life at all for that matter. I must've been daft to think my plan could work. I can't seem to keep my mouth shut around Potter!
"What's done is done. No use trying to change the past." He shrugged. Harry looked up at him. His green eyes even brighter from his tears. A silence spread between the two. It was broken by a low throaty chuckle.
Draco was a bit shocked by the sudden sound. Where was it coming from? After a few moments Draco realized it was Harry and by that time it had become a full out laugh.
"What's so funny?" Draco demanded narrowing his eyes. Harry was laughing so hard at this point that it took him a few minutes before he could calm down enough to spit out a sentence.
"It chuckle just that laugh well, guffaw Draco Malfoy snort had an giggle imaginary friend! grin"
Draco glared at the black-haired boy. Harry just laughed louder.
"Oh shut up!" Draco shouted over Harry's fit but with no real anger behind his words, it was good to hear Harry laugh. When Harry seemed unable to stop Draco decided he would help. He picked up a pillow from the bed and hurled it at Harry hitting him right in the head. That shut up the other boy quickly.
Harry glared at Draco who smirked challengingly in response. Harry was about to throw the pillow back at the infuriating blond boy when the sound of the front door opening stopped him. Both boys held their breaths as they heard the Dursley's enter the house and come up the stairs. When they heard the doors of their bedrooms close they breathed easier.
Though the Dursleys had gone to bed without bothering the two boys the moment had passed. Harry slid his desk chair back to his desk and began his ritual. He picked up a letter from the pile on his desk and opened it.
Draco watched him for a few minutes before deciding he was ready for bed. As he was about to drift off Harry's voice stopped him.
"Look, a letter from Dumbledore. Address to the both of us."
(A/N: thanks for the reviews. One reviewer brought something to my attention. I made a mistake and I apologize. The Hogwarts school year starts on the 1st of September not the 21st. so sorry. Too avoid confusion I am going to stick with the 21st however, so for all of you who noticed this mistake Harry and Draco will not be three weeks late. Hogwarts will just start three weeks late lol. Thanks!
A/n 2: I don't know much about football (or soccer for us Americans) so I did my best from what I learned in gym class.
A/n 3: soo sorry guys I had an accident. Long story short I broke my finger on my left hand. I will still try to type the next chapter one-handed but it might take a while. Sorry. Please wait.)