Title: The Quandary's Hope

Author: Intrepid Aarcher

Summary: Harry's Potions skills have been well hidden until an accident occurs involving a deadly concoction. Malfoy has noticed not all seems well with his arch-nemesis, but why does he care? And where does a surly Potions master fit into the equation? HPDM

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money out of this foray into the world of fan fiction. I just like to borrow the characters.

Warnings: eventual Harry/Draco slash. So that's male/male duh. A bit of abuse here and there, and some pretty dark themes.

"Parseltongue"

"normal speech"

Thoughts

CHAPTER EIGHT

An Impartial Observer

Draco sighed as he watched the brunette leave the Great Hall early for his usual detention. Here we go again. He had been tailing the Gryffindor endlessly since he'd witnessed his Godfather give him the potion, yet he had learned nothing. Nothing, unless you counted noticing the way Potter favoured one leg above the other, the way his smile no-longer reached his eyes, the way his hands shook as they clutched heavy books, the way his hair fell into his eyes just so…

The Slytherin awarded himself a mental face slap.

Get over it. He told himself. The guy has no appeal. He's unsophisticated, unconventional, unkempt, roguish and... totally irresistible.

Draco's shoulders slumped in defeat. It was about time he acknowledged to himself what he was feeling. For weeks now he had been assaulted with a barrage of tumultuous emotions, confusing him at every turn – even going as far as to make him unsure of himself when he went to insult the Gryffindor trio.

Even if he was able to admit his feelings to himself, he sure wasn't going to do anything about it. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he liked the guy. Attracted to? Yes. Not hate him enough to put aside house rivalries and hold a decent conversation? Maybe. But like?

He knew what he didn't like though.

He didn't like how Harry seemed to diminish further with every passing day. He didn't like the fact that the Weasel and Granger weren't paying enough attention to him. He didn't like the way certain people looked at Harry. And he certainly didn't like whatever part Severus Snape was playing in all this.

Draco cast a concealment charm on himself before rounding the last corner to the Potions classroom, sinking into the shadows as he watched Harry approach the door. Instead of knocking like Draco had anticipated, Harry slid to the floor and closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath at this opportunity to watch the Gryffindor in this unguarded state, he let his eyes take in the delicate sight before him. Harry's face was like an open book as a range of expressions passed over his features. Firstly there was pain as he settled into a more comfortable position on the stone floor. Then his brow relaxed and his lips unfurled from a grimace into a state of rest as he let his mind wander.

Draco wanted to reach out and touch those lips, to smooth that brow with his own hand… Snapping back to the present, he became aware of footsteps approaching.

Blaise Zabini stepped into view at the end of the corridor and paused as he took in the sight of the hunched form sitting in Slytherin territory. He approached.

"Harry Potter," he cooed. "What are you doing on the floor?" He placed a smooth hand under Potters chin, forcing him to look up into chocolate brown eyes.

Draco was silent. Torn between revealing himself and wanting to see where this was leading, he waited.

"Zabini!" Harry hissed, leaning away from the other boy's grasp. "How dare you come near me! How can you live with yourself knowing what you did?" Seeing Blaise hesitate he reached out and caught the tall boy's wrist in a vice like grip.

"Oh yes, I know it was you. You see there's something about your eyes I've seen once before. They're like a window to your soul. I can peek in and see the evil lurking there that you try to hide." His grip tightened painfully with every passing moment.

Draco watched with a bated breath as he tried to understand what was happening. His breath was robbed from his lungs when Harry continued.

"You see, Zabini, I'm not rendered powerless now by a pathetic family like I was when you caught me." His voice dropped to a barely discernable whisper that Draco had to strain to catch. "No, Zabini. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

Blaise started to whimper under the intensity of the gaze from the boy on the floor in front of him.

All of a sudden there was a pulse of magic and Blaise was flung back with a sickening thud into the wall opposite, falling into a crumpled heap onto the floor.

Draco was frozen. Harry's wand was nowhere in sight.

The boy in question was now breathing heavily, his face sweaty and pale. The door to the classroom opened and a figure in a set of billowing black robes stepped out. He looked over at the defeated figure of Blaise on the floor and turned to Harry.

"I thought I heard a racket. Do I even want to know what that was about?"

Harry shook his head weakly and made to stand, only to find himself reacquainted with the floor.

"Oh for crying out- here," the Potions Master swooped down on Harry like some giant bird of prey, gathering him up into his arms and carrying him into the room. The door slammed behind him and Draco remembered to breathe.

---

Draco stared at the door for several more minutes before he remembered the unconscious form lying not four feet from him.

Cautiously, he stepped up to the body and determined he was still breathing before slumping to the ground next to his classmate.

What the hell just happened?

The blonde struggled to piece together the information he'd been privy to. He came up blank. Nothing made sense! Not Blaise approaching Harry in an all too familiar way, or the Gryffindor attacking him with such vehement words. The boy didn't even have a wand when he threw Blaise across the corridor!

Draco wanted answers.

He pulled his wand from its usual place in his sleeve and attempted to revive Blaise, but with his hands shaking so violently the wand action was misinterpreted and the unconscious boy's nose started to bleed. Draco swore. Every other spell he tried had similar results and in the end he resorted to gripping his fellow Slytherin by the back of his robes and dragging him the fifty paces to the Slytherin common room. Luckily for him there was no-one about when the false wall revealed the entrance, as they were all probably in their rooms by now. The Slytherin bunch were not a social lot.

Dragging his load into the elegant room, he left the body on the floor and took a seat in a grand wing-back chair by the fire.

Harry had done wandless magic.

The notion would have been inconceivable to him one hour ago, and now his whole world had turned around. Wandless magic was myth. Oh he new the Dark Lord could do tricks, but to this degree? He thought not.

A thought suddenly struck him: he was supporting the wrong Saviour. While he had believed in Voldemort's cause initially, he had begun to understand for some time that his reign would not bring about higher protection for the pure-blooded way of life, but death, destruction and total annihilation. The man/creature had become obsessed as well, with the one who had crashed to a halt his first time in power; Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.

The blond began to smile - a rare event indeed, as his whole world came into focus with a sharp clarity like a breath of cold wind. He would support the Golden Boy. How though was another matter altogether. He couldn't just walk up to the guy and say -

"Hi, I hate Voldemort. How 'bout you?"

No. he needed an approach. Had it been anyone else he wouldn't have doubted his charm and charisma to tide them over. But Harry was different. They had come to heads and fought so many times now that until recently he wouldn't have known a day where he didn't accuse the Gryffindor of being a prick or something equally as tasteful.

He would have to be subtle. He had no idea what part his Godfather played in all this.

Draco's thoughts turned sour once more. He didn't like the way the greasy man had swooped down and picked Harry up in his arms. Snape was a wizard- why couldn't he use his wand! He looked like he was used to it though. Like he did it all the time.

The blond's lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he thought about the other occasions Snape might have held Harry as he did just now. Maybe when they –

There was a muffled grunt as Blaise awoke to find himself being used as Draco's footrest.

"Hello Zabini." Came the silky voice of the Slytherin Prince. "I think there's something you need to tell me."

Blaise struggled out from under his feet and lurched to his feet, his hands going to his face as he sank into the chair opposite Draco. He sat there for a minute to regain his bearings before facing his superior.

"I don't know what you mean." He said blankly, not giving anything away.

"Accio Veritaserum!" Draco's eyes glinted like steel. "And don't even think about going anywhere my friend." He announced with his wand trained on the other boy as a small vial slapped into his hand.

"You see, Zabini, I witnessed your little interlude with Potter. I don't like being kept in the dark and you will tell me," Draco pressed his fingers together. "Or else my father shall know about that Gryffindor slut you're shagging.

"Oh yes I know about Lavender, and I know you couldn't care two straws about her, but imagine if Our Lord were to find out? Hmmm?" Blaise' face paled.

Draco passed the vial to Blaise who obediently took off the stopper and placed two drops of the colourless liquid onto his tongue. Draco took back the vial.

"You may begin."

Blaise sat up straighter in his chair and stared at Draco as he recounted his tale in a sullen voice.

"The Dark Lord bestowed upon me a great honour. This summer past I began proper work for him as a true liege man would.

"We had finally located Potter's residence, a dull dwelling in a filthy Muggle neighbourhood. For weeks the place was watched, but not once was there any sign of him. The Dark Lord was furious and put to death the one who had led us there. Despairing that this was not the correct house, an attempt was made to get inside and have a look. They couldn't get in- the place was so heavily warded skin would blister and burn if the wards were even approached. It was the right house.

"I was unmarked, the perfect man for the job. I was to locate Potter and get some blood, that was all. In order to get in, I had to befriend the son of Potter's Aunt and Uncle. A whale of a boy with huge meaty fists. I met him in a park, bludgeoning a small boy of five or six years old. At first he was wary of me, but then I offered to help. From then on I became a regular addition to his little gang. We committed petty crimes, stealing from stores, bullying the local populace. All I had to do was wait for an invitation to his home.

"The day before the start of term I had my chance. I was getting worried and pressure was building from those who brought the orders from Our Lord. They said once the Dark Lord was finished with Potter that I could have him, if I completed my task. If I didn't, I would not make it back to Hogwarts for the year." He shifted in his chair and a strange light came into his eyes. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"I couldn't wait. I got Dudley drunk and practically begged for him to take me home by dropping hints about needing an 'outlet.' He seemed to know of one and finally invited me home." His breathing grew more pronounced.

"Potter was there alright. He was kept in a cupboard, his grandeur subdued by those fucking Muggles, it was pathetic. We interrupted him brewing something. I have no idea what, Potions homework maybe. They beat him then. He seemed resigned, it must happen often." He snarled.

"Then they left him alone with me. How could I let this opportunity pass by? He was mine by right already, I had completed the mission and got the blood when they were beating him. I couldn't resist, I had to have a taste." Blaise grinned, a foul twisting of his lips that turned his beautiful face into that of a monster.

Draco's jaw clenched and he barely held in his fury at those words, trying to block the mental images they conjured. His hands were shaking again.

"Jealous are we, Draco?" Blaise purred. "I'm sure the Dark Lord has a reason for gifting him to me rather than you."

"You fool." Draco chided to hide his inner turmoil. "What makes you think that a single piece of Potter will remain once Our Lord is through with him?"

Blaise looked stumped.

"Tell me; was there anything more to this remarkably perceptive plan?"

"Yes." Blaise looked annoyed with himself for admitting it.

"Elaborate please." The blond smirked, growing more and more worried by the minute.

"The protection that surrounds Potter, we don't know what it is. That's why we needed his blood - for research, so we can destroy it. We also don't know how powerful he is. No-one does. Not even the old fool who runs this school we suspect."

Draco glanced sharply at the boy he was interrogating. Did he not remember how he came to be unconscious? Perhaps it would be better if it remained so.

"Well, Zabini," Draco sighed dramatically. "There is nothing here I didn't already know, except your part in it. However in the future I require that you are more forthcoming with me. Is that clear?" Blaise nodded and stood to go, relieved that he had revealed nothing that would come back to haunt him.

Draco's mind was swirling with these new revelations. He felt sick. What Blaise had done to his Harry was disgusting. He would make sure he got what was coming to him. The new insights into Harry's life were also disturbing- he wasn't treated like a prince at home as they'd all thought; it was the other way around it seemed. He turned to the boy walking towards the dorms.

"Oh and one more thing, Zabini," Draco said casually, "Obliviate!"

He stood and steadied the boy who was swaying on his feet.

"Really, Zabini, you're a disgrace to Slytherin. Imagine if someone else had found you at the bottom of the staircase?"

End Chapter Eight

A/N: Hope you liked it! I have recently come under fire for not updating quickly enough, I am very busy, but if you like this fic please let me know and I will make time for it. Cheers guys, Aarcher.