Chapter seventeen: Draco's death
Draco Malfoy was slowly losing his mind. Not even two months ago he was the Slytherin Ice Prince and now he was as gooey as a moonpie left in the sun for a week in the Sahara Desert.
A couple months ago he was able to convince himself that he abhorred Harry Potter and now he was head over broomstick in love with him.
Before he went to stay with Harry, Draco didn't even believe he knew what love meant let alone feel that way about anyone and now…Draco didn't know. He had admitted to being in love with the boy in his head but how was he to know that what he felt really was love?
Draco never had any real contact with love that he was aware of. He had been a perpetual disappointment to his father, and though his mother was fond of him and they did spend time together but it was always squeezed in between her many parties and other social events that had her out at all hours and sometimes for days at a time and this left him unsure on how to identify love.
Draco knew how to identify sympathy, empathy. He also knew that he cared for his housemates and friends, knowing they had home lives similar to his own and he felt responsible for letting them know that someone cared. But with his switching sides in the pending war, how was he to convey that message now? Especially if he were forced to face them on opposite sides of the battle field. He so wished he could do something but that would hinder his usefulness to the Order. One wrong word to the wrong person and Draco was dead for sure.
Draco had decided to join the Order as a spy six months ago. He knew he was against the side that turned fathers into monsters. He was against a side that turned powerful people into mindless sheep and he sure as Merlin's arse was against any side that would not hesitate to kill him. The Death Eaters had no sense of honour and if Draco had anything it was his honour.
He had done his best to keep his honour. Yes, Draco willing admits that he was a prat in the past but those were all childish stunts. Such as tricking Harry into a midnight duel to get him caught being out of bed or trying to hex him when his back was turned. It was all rather harmless but killing unarmed people whether they were muggles or not was not honourable. And it was not a path Draco wanted to take or one he wanted his friends to take.
If it were only Draco's life on the line he would do what he could to let his friends know they had a choice. That they could take control over their own destinies. That's what everything in the lives of Slytherin children boiled down to. Control. Who had it, how to get it and what to do with it to keep it. That was what was deemed important. Not honour or integrity, even pride took second place to control.
Draco's housemates with Death Eater fathers (which were all the ones who had fathers) knew all to well the extent in which their fathers would go to exhibit control. Though no one spoke of it Draco could tell. It was obvious in the soulless eyes of the older students and the way the younger ones flinched when someone moved to quickly. There had been many a time when Draco wished he could just hold them all and tell them that it'd be ok. That someone loved them that someone cared. But he had a reputation to uphold and the times he had inadvertently gone against it, he had been severely punished.
Like the time Granger had hit him and he ran. Father was rather furious. Draco hadn't been able to move without having to bite his tongue to refrain from crying out in pain for a week despite being healed, though healing a wound doesn't stop the pain –physical or emotional.
But all the icy exteriors were just a natural defense Slytherin children build up to protect themselves. It's naturally ingrained into them, part of their genetic make-up. Their grandfather's passed it down to their fathers who passed it to them and they will pass it to their kids.
Every one of them knew it. Knew that no matter how they try to distinguish themselves from their parents or what they do to try and make things for themselves different it will never be. Some turned to drugs, others to alcohol, even more to sex and some though not very many turned to forms of Self-Injury a.k.a SI, it was a rather unknown phenomena in the Wizarding World though, obviously, not unheard of.
The ones who took that path had come to expect the pain for so long they couldn't survive without it, or they were like Draco and made it all about control. (Oh how he had come to loathe that word. He wished he could give up his thriving need for it but it had been literally beaten into him to never relinquish control unless of course it was to his father or the Dark Lord.)
Most, like Draco, hid their 'coping methods' well. You'd never know the amount of pain they were truly in. Such emotional pain that they had to hurt themselves just to be able to survive the day-to-day. Sometimes it hurt all the more to know that no one knew made it easier for them to make themselves believe that no one cared, but than again it wasn't Slytherin nature to want sympathy though they all craved it, besides it enabled them to harden (or kill) their hearts as was a necessary step for a future Death Eater. But still every now and again Draco would catch a glimpse of a self-inflicted scar.
Some were cutters, others burned themselves (those usually where the kids of smokers or pyromaniacs) but no suicides or attempts. Pureblooded Slytherins did not kill themselves. It simply was not done. But they all knew that in the end they will all grow up to be carbon copies of their parents. They all knew it and as they got older very few bothered to resist it.
But Draco had refused to believe that. He promised himself that despite what he would have to go through and what life he would have to lead he would endure and come out with himself intact rather than becoming his father. He may be his father's son but he wasn't his father and he would never be.
That promise is what led to his eventual joining of the Order and it was that promise that planted a small seed of pity toward his parents. They had gone through what he had when they were kids but they weren't strong enough to resist. And all Draco could do was ensure he was and pray that his friends were as well.
Draco could not risk blowing his cover. If the Death Eaters catch one spy in their ranks they would surely suspect another. He could not put Severus at risk like that, not when the man had already risked so much. Draco would never have considered spying if it wasn't for him. He had been set to go wait out the war in France or a multitude of other locations. But after his father's imprisonment Severus came to Draco and told him about his loyalties to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix and his spying.
Draco at that point was scared and confused. He had screamed at the man. Called him a traitor and many other foul names that he knew he should call him. Names he knew his father would've called him had he known. He flew into a rage. Fear fueling his anger. Anger that he knew he was suppose to feel. Anger he knew his father would've felt.
Severus had left dejected and with tears shining on his pale face. Those tears were what had the most lasting affect on Draco rather than his words. Those tears spoke of pain. The kind of pain one feels when someone they care for is in danger. Severus never once told Draco not to tell anyone about his spying. He didn't know if the older man trusted he wouldn't or knew he could never betray the man who had been there for him through everything, knew that his young Godson could never condemn the only person to have come from their ranks with enough strength left to not only switch sides but to be able to look the people he had once cared about in the face while stabbing them in the back.
Before Severus had left that night he said something that still resonated in the boy's head every time he looked into the eyes of a housemate or friend.
"Yes, Draco I am a traitor, but not because I am a spy for the other side but because I was too much of a coward to tell anyone. To weak to try and convince the ones I cared about to come with me."
The man had such a haunted look in his dark eyes that Draco could never get it out of his head. He harbored so much pain. Every time he found a former friend or classmate dead on the battlefield was like another cut to his heart and the fact that, that person could've been saved if he had just said something had made the cut all that much deeper.
But despite it all Severus stayed strong. He never once questioned his loyalties. He never once thought about stopping. His will remained iron-tight and he was utterly self-less. And this drove Draco to his own resolve. This school year is their last before they go and meet the world and with their futures being uncertain Draco knew his friends would be terrified though they'd never admit it or let it show being Slytherins and all. So Draco hoped that would make them more susceptible to listening to what he had to say.
He figured that he would try and convince them that they did not have to follow their parents' path. That they did have a choice and hopefully they would listen and even more than that maybe they would make a decision quicker than Draco had. He hoped that if they had a sort of guide then he could save them from the months of indecision and self-inflicted pain that he had endured before he came to have his epiphany.
All these scattered thoughts boiled down to one thing; Draco Malfoy was losing his mind. He didn't know how it all had happened. He thought he had it all together before he had walked through the door of Number Four Privet Drive., but now he wasn't so sure.
Surely, madness took more time than a few months to set in. He couldn't have gone this mental within such a short time. It just wasn't plausible. He had to have been going mad before. How else to you explain the Slytherin Ice Prince who most defiantly was not hugged as a child—throttled, maybe, but hugged, no- to have fallen in love with the Golden boy of Gryffindor?
It all was too far-fetched. Draco had never even been interested in other boys before Harry. He hadn't taken peeks in the showers, hadn't fantasized that some manly man had his hand on Draco rather than himself (or some random girl) or gotten off of the sounds of his two brutish friends going at it like bunnies.
But now here he was hoping that he'd catch a glimpse of Harry in the shower, fantasizing that Harry's hands were on him rather than his own and getting off just by sharing a bed with him.
Those were defiantly sighs of madness.
Draco Malfoy couldn't be in love with Harry Potter and be sane. He didn't know what love was. It was a mere infatuation as a result of Karma and Fate delivering him a swift kick in the balls to knock him down a peg or two.
Draco had to admit that he did deserve it. Time and time again he had turned away infatuated young girls (or if he was in a…mood he would make their dreams come true for a night before kicking them out). He had even encouraged their infatuation by refusing to wear robes to meals (instead he wore tight trousers and shirts to show off his lithe form) and throwing knee-weakening smiles at them just to watch them swoon. It was a powerful ego-buster. And now he was paying for it.
Paying dearly, but at least he knew one thing for sure. He most defiantly was not and would never admit it out loud- NO! Would never be in love with Harry Potter. Nope, no way, not in a million, billion, trillion- aw, for the Love of Merlin. This boy is going to be the death of me.
Draco had been lying on his bed facing the bathroom door fully dressed in a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt, waiting for Harry to finish up. Merlin that boy takes ages to freakin' shower! He can't be that dirty, he took one just yesterday.
Just as Draco was coming to the end of his long triad of thoughts and was about to seriously consider getting up to get his wand so he could turn the water to ice cold in hopes of getting the raven-haired boy to get out ,when the bathroom door opened. There stood Harry in all of his manly glory in nothing but a pair of blue boxers, his black hair still wet and clinging to his head and sending drops of water down his bronze chest.
Oh how I want to be that drop of water Draco thought as he followed the drop's path with his eyes as it zigzagged across the boy's abs and then disappearing behind the towel. Screw that, I want to lick that drop of water. Draco was pretty sure he was drooling and making a right fool of himself but at the moment he just didn't care. Ugh this- infatuation- that- is –masquerading- as- love- but -cant -really -be -love -because -I -don't –really- know- what- love –is- and -I –keep- throwing- the- word -causally –around- in –my- mind but- my -mind -is –so- muddled- anyway- that –it- really -doesn't- matter- much-because--I'll-never-ever-ever-say-it-out-loud, will be the death of me. Draco thought feeling rather pathetically.
His staring contest with Harry's nipples was ended when Harry finally spoke.
"Riding today?" He asked stepping into the room fully and moving over to his trunk. Draco looked at him confused for a minute and Harry pointed to his outfit. Draco looked down and realized that he was still lying on his stomach which was a good thing seeing as his pants were definitely fitting tighter.
After taking his eyes off of the other boy, Draco's mind seemed to clear and he was able to think again. He looked back up and was taken back to find Harry staring at something that seemed to be on the other side of him. Draco turned and his grey eyes were only met with the sight of a blank wall.
When he turned back again Harry's eyes seemed to be in focus again and he was now looking at Draco's face. Little did Draco know what was going on it the raven-haired boy's mind.
He has a hole in his pants. A hole! Right there, under his left arse cheek. MELIN'S ARSE I can see skin! HE'S NOT WEARING ANY UNDERWEAR! WHY WASN'T HE WEARING ANY UNDERWEAR! Harry's mind was about to have a meltdown if he didn't look away soon. He turned his gaze back to Draco's face which was turned away from him and then the blonde head moved to face him again.
"Right, um no, no riding today," Draco said "Helena gave me a letter this morning from Dumbledore, been waiting for you to read it." Draco explained and Harry nodded his head to show he was listening as he pulled on an old pair of jeans which he once again shrunk to fit him and a dark red shirt with a shoe logo on it.
"Give me a second and I'll read it to you." Draco said shifting to a sitting position with his back to Harry seeing as his pants were still uncomfortably tight. Gotta think of something gross to make it go away he decided. Thinking hard Draco came up with a truly terrifying image. Dumbledore in Great Hall with Hagrid. Draco shuddered and resisted the urge to retch but luckily his pants were rather roomy now.
He got off the bed and grabbed a scroll from on top of his beside table.
"Let me see…" Draco began and cleared his throat. "He says…'Hello boys, how are you? I do hope everything is going well. These training sessions could prove to be very handy in the future so I do hope you are taking them seriously. Especially since school is only a fortnight away.
Speaking of serious things, I do have a serious matter to discuss with the two of you. I must say that I am horribly disappointed in the two of you for your untimely departure of the Dursleys' and the manner in which you left.' - How does he always know?
'Harry, I had hoped that these reckless stunts of yours would have ended after the scare of your third year. I know that it all turned out for the best but you must be more careful. I sent you back to the Dursleys' every summer for a reason, one which I have expressed to you. I would have hoped that you would've taken other people's feelings in consideration, especially after what happened last year.'" Draco stopped reading and looked up at Harry who was now sitting on top of his trunk staring at the floor. "Harry? Are you alright?" He asked.
Harry just nodded and motioned for Draco to continue reading.
"'Draco, you, perhaps more so than Harry, knew what risks laid beyond the Dursleys' doorstep. I do believe that you came to me in response to these looming threats and asked for my assistance. You alone have the power to put many people in jeopardy. People you claim to care for. I would've thought you'd have put more value on their sacrifices.'" Draco's voice was hoarse as he read the section written to him, willing his voice not to break as thoughts of Severus came to mind.
"'But I suppose what is done is done. The pair of you must remain in Malfoy Manor. I have taken the liberty of posting several Order members on hand in case you have need of them. You two have taken many fine members off of important missions to ensure your safety, meanwhile putting others who might need their help, at risk. Do not perform any futhur foolish acts. I still intend for you to go to the Leaky Cauldron on the 20th and stay the night. The Weasleys will meet you there and accompany you to the platform.
Be safe, my dear boys. And take great care to continue on with your training. I do believe that Draco has all the necessary equipment to teach Harry adequate potion skills. Merlin be with you, Albus Dumbledore.'" Draco finished reading and looked up.
"Wow he's really mad." Harry whispered still staring intently at his shoes.
"He sure knows how to make me feel like a piece of shit." Draco mumbled tossing the scroll onto the bed. Harry's head shot up.
"Why?" He asked. Draco, whose head was beginning to pound, looked at him with slight annoyance.
"Why what?" He asked.
"Why do you feel like shit?" Harry asked anger entering his voice,
How can Draco make this about himself? We put people's lives at risk and he's acting like it's him who should be pitied.
Draco's grey eyes turned to molten silver as they flashed with anger as well.
"What do you mean 'why do you feel like shit'? I don't want people to get hurt any more than you do, Potter." Draco spat out.
"Right, Malfoy." Harry drawled. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."
"You're wrong!" Draco spat. "I care, or weren't you listening? I put people I care about at risk just as much as you did. You're not the only one who has people to care about."
"Yeah right, who would those people be Malfoy? Voldemort?" Harry snarled. "Oh I know it's his slimy git lover, Snape." Draco's face contorted into a look of utter fury.
"Take that back," He hissed. "Take it back right now. Severus is a good man! A better man than you'd ever know!"
"Maybe, but I don't delve in sodomy." Harry shouted. Draco roared and flung himself on Harry.
"Take it back!" He screamed into the boy's face as he sat atop him. "Take it back right now." Try as he might Draco couldn't stop the desperation from creeping into his voice. He had to protect Severus. He just had to. The man had done so much for him; Draco couldn't allow a prick like Harry Potter to say such things about him.
Harry looked up at Draco with cold eyes and a malicious smile.
"Oh, is little Drakky afraid of the truth, that his lover is shagging someone else?" Harry laughed mirthlessly. "How pathetic."
Harry didn't know what had come over him. He just was so angry at the blonde on top of him. He just wanted to hurt him, deep. Cut him to the bone. He had never felt so vindictive before. He just kept spouting out any horrible thing that entered his mind and hurled them at the boy like daggers and relishing in the blonde's pain.
"Say what you will about me but leave him out of this." Draco growled. "Don't talk about Severus that way."
"So tell me Draco, is ol' Sevvie packing? I mean he must be, how else would an ugly git like him get any…or maybe that's just it. He isn't getting any. Explains the 'broomstick-up-my-arse' attitude, must've gotten stuck there while he was doin it alone." Harry snarled.
"No, no, no take it back." Draco cried. He couldn't stand to hear such lies about the man who had taken care of him. More than that he couldn't stand for such ugly words to come from Harry. It tore his heart to hear it. "Please, oh please, stop."
Harry watched as the blonde boy looked ready to break down and begged him to stop. It was as if a trance was being lifted off of him and he felt his anger fade away.
"Oh Draco, oh Draco I am so sorry. I take it back, I didn't mean it." Harry said softly moving his arms to embrace the boy on him.
"NO!" Draco shouted grabbing Harry's wrists and pining him to the floor. Harry looked up into Draco's face. His eyes were blazing.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Harry asked, bewildered as Draco began to lower his lips toward Harry's. Draco wasn't sure of what was going on. It seemed like every nerve in his body was on fire. He knew that he should get off Harry but the boy's warm body under his felt so right and Draco couldn't bear to part from it. Draco knew that if he continued to think that way then he would kiss the boy and that was not a good idea.
Draco let his mind drift to the horrible things Harry had said just seconds before. The fire in his eyes burned and his grip tightened on the boy's wrist. Harry shifted his wrists under Draco's hold trying to get the other boy to loosen his iron tight grip.
The white hot fire in Draco's eyes suddenly turned to ash. Like someone had thrown water over it an all that was left was thick grey smoke. His eyes widened and moved from Harry's face to the wrists in his hands and back again.
Oh shit
(A/N: What just happened? What did Draco just stumble upon? Will Draco find out a terrifying secret about Harry? Will Harry find out where Draco's loyalties lie? Will they ever have buck wild sex?
Tune in next time to 'Know Thine Enemy' and find out!
Heehee I'm a dork lol
That's a little Clue reference. Y'know 'Mrs. White in the study with the candle stick' just a pervy rendition, 'tis a disturbing thought, I know.)