The Human Stain
By Anna Kate
Chapter Six- Sins Of The House
Since that eventful afternoon a few days ago, when Draco told Harry about his daughter, Claudia and Draco had spent more time together than ever. He would wake her up for school in the morning and bring her home from school in the evening, leaving Harry to rest on his own.
One evening, Draco had put Claudia to bed and came out of her room looking rather tearful. Harry asked what was wrong and just got a dismissive wave in answer, and then Draco disappeared into the make-shift guestroom in the study, with Harry on his heels.
Draco was on the sofa bed with his knees pulled up to his chest when Harry entered. He looked to be on the verge of tears, yet Harry stood at the doorway, not wanting to invade into Draco's private sanctum.
"Are you okay?" Harry whispered, as though anything louder would be rude or insulting. Draco nodded, paused, and then shook his head. He acted as a child almost, and reached out for Harry, who tensed, then walked over to the sofa-bed. Kneeling onto the edge of the bed, Harry embraced Draco awkwardly.
It had been a long time since he had held anyone this way. Even Anna only settled for a quick cuddle, nothing more; Draco just clung to him as if Harry was the only thing anchoring him to this world as he cried.
Harry didn't know how long he spent holding Draco, but by the time Draco had calmed down it was well past midnight. Pulling away from the embrace, Draco wiped his eyes on the back of his hands and ran a hand through his hair. He noticed the dyed black locks and made a face.
"I hate my hair this colour." He said softly.
"Why did you dye it anyway?" Harry asked, looking at the black strands that contrasted so sharply with the undyed white-blonde locks at Draco's forehead.
"I think, when Ch-..." Draco choked slightly. "When she died, I wanted to get rid of every Malfoy part of me. The most physical thing noticeable about us is our hair. But, I couldn't get rid of all of it. I wanted to remember my origin; of whom I was and who I was to become." Harry nodded slightly, attempting to take it all in.
"Here." He took Draco's face in his hands, and then moved his hands through Draco's hair. As his hands passed over it, it went to jet-black to white-blonde, until it spilled in a golden waterfall over Draco's shoulders. "You look more like the Draco I remember now." Harry whispered and Draco gave a small smile.
Harry stood from the bed and went to the door.
"Good night, Draco. Sleep well," he whispered, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.
Draco had never felt more alone in his life than he did at that moment.
00
About three in the morning, Draco decided that sleep was futile. He clambered off the sofa bed and stopped as he passed the mirror. His white-blonde hair shone slightly in the moonlight and gave him an almost ethereal look. He sighed and shook his head, sending blonde hair over his face.
He opened his bedroom door and slid outside into the dark living room. Shuffling down the hall that led to Harry's bedroom, he opened the door and looked inside.
It seemed Harry was having a fit or something on his bed; he was convulsing violently, and his mouth was open in a silent scream. The only thing that registered with Draco's mind was that he should place his hands on Harry's heart and head.
Running over to the bed, Draco leapt on to it and slammed his hands down, hard, onto Harry's heart and forehead. He closed his eyes, gathered the energy inside him and pushed it out with a tremendous force.
Harry stopped convulsing and just whimpered, leaning into the touch. Sighing, Draco shifted on the bed into a comfortable position and lay down next to Harry, careful to keep touching him. Pressing their foreheads lightly together, Draco closed his eyes and fell to sleep.
00
Harry awoke the next morning feeling relaxed and calm. He moved to stretch then noticed a hand was laying flat on his stomach. Eyes wide, he traced the hand back to its source; Draco, who was sleeping soundly. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes fluttered slightly when Harry moved. His blonde hair fell around his face, and he was lying on his stomach, other hand beneath him.
Moving gently, Harry slipped out and off the bed, and headed to the door. Pausing for a moment, Harry turned around and brushed Draco's hair away from his eyes. Smiling to himself, he left the room.
Since it was a Saturday, Claudia was awake and watched Ministry Of Mayhem on the television.
"Morning," Harry said, leaning over her and kissing her on the forehead. She smiled and said a quick 'morning' back, then continued writing in the notepad on her lap. "What are you writing?" Harry asked, glancing at the page.
"Nothing much. And no, you can't read it. It's in Czech anyway, so you wouldn't understand." Claudia told him, twirling the pen around her fingers and turning around to look at the brunet.
"I can read Czech!" Harry protested and Claudia snorted.
"Only Hello and Good-bye. Also, 'I Love You' but that was because Mum told you!" they both fell silent and Harry wandered off to the kitchen. "What are you doing today?" Claudia asked him.
"Nothing, I think, unless Draco has something up his sleeve." Harry said, bustling about the kitchen making a cup of coffee.
"Where is he, anyway? He wasn't in his room." Claudia asked and Harry froze.
"He was in my room." Claudia looked over at him with very wide eyes and an open mouth. "I had some... problems overnight and he had to stay in my room." Claudia just gave him a doubtful look and then continued writing.
Harry sat down at the kitchen table with his coffee and searched through the ridiculous amount of paper littered over the desk to find a batch of notes for his new book. Finally pulling the batch of notes out, he flicked through them.
Name: Kaleo Armstrong. Age: 16. Gender: Male. Family: None.
Mute. Prophecy. Conflicting thoughts. Depends on others...
None of these notes made any sense to Harry. He must have written them just out of his coma; he could still remember Kaleo, Jess and Morgan.
"Maybe I should knock myself out again." he mumbled to himself.
"Not a good idea," came another voice and Harry looked up. Draco had managed to sneak out of Harry's room without him noticing and overheard the last part. Harry gave him a half-hearted smile and Draco sat down opposite him.
"Hey, Draco! Why has you hair changed colour?" Claudia shouted out to him. Draco smiled and thought for a second.
"I didn't like the black, so I dyed it back to white-blond." He told her and she seemed to accept it.
"That's your natural colour?" Draco nodded. "Weird, it looks like one that you could only get dying it." Draco smiled, unsure of whether that was an insult or a compliment, and then turned to Harry again.
"I was thinking, last night," Draco paused and Harry had the sudden urge to go 'Wow!' but he didn't. "I want to go back to Malfoy House. It's where everything happened, and I think if I go, I can finally put my past behind me." He explained softly, his grey eyes flicking around the room. Harry nodded thoughtfully and picked up a pen from the table. He scribbled down a few notes then stood up.
"Claudia, do you mind being looked after by Emma today?" Harry asked and Claudia stiffened in her seat. She turned around and glared at him with narrowed eyes; she still hadn't forgiven him for letting Emma into their lives so quickly.
"I could go to Alex's." she suggested in a low voice which told Harry that if he disagreed, she would throw a hissy fit.
"Could you phone him now?" Claudia nodded and picked up the phone from the table next to her, while Draco watched from the table, silent.
"You don't have to come with me..." he told Harry softly and Harry shrugged.
"I don't have to, but I want to." Draco shot him a grateful smile and then got up to make himself something to eat, smiling to himself.
00
Claudia had left for her friend Alex's by the time Draco and Harry were ready to go. Both had deliberated insanely over their clothes and hair, much to Claudia's amusement. She had giggled and laughed when they had both dragged her into their respective rooms and shown outfits and hairstyles to her. Eventually though, she had grown annoyed and left, hastily throwing on her coat and slamming the door.
"Ready to go?" Harry said, glancing up from the book he was reading. He looked at Draco openly, as if he had only just realised Draco was there.
In contrast to the usual long black things he wore, Draco was wearing a white polo-neck shirt and jeans. He had pulled on a denim jacket and his hair was left to rest on his shoulders gently. He wore his trademark black boots though.
Draco, in turn, was admiring Harry's appearance. Harry was dressed down, like he normally was, wearing a plain dark green long sleeved shirt, blue-grey jeans and trainers. His hair, which was a mess only an hour ago, had been tamed to soft curls that were shorter at the front and longer at the back. His vibrant green eyes were once again covered by glasses.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Harry bolted for his coat.
00
They drove for about an hour until they got to Wiltshire. Then they spent the next hour desperately trying to find Draco's ancestral home. Eventually, they found the large iron gates with the initial 'M' in large gold letters on them.
"You guys really don't know the meaning of 'subtle' do you?" Harry asked and Draco shrugged by way of answering. They drove down the gravel, willow tree lined drive and past a grand fountain of a man holding a wand with a snake curled around his arm.
"The founder of Malfoy House; Samuel Malfoy." Draco said, looking at the statue. They drove up to the large manor house and got out of the car.
The house was pretty much what Harry expected it to be; large, old and very pompous, if that was a word that could be used to describe a house.
"Home sweet home." Harry could hear the strain in Draco's voice and he awkwardly put a hand on the other man's shoulder. Draco smiled at him then headed to the front door.
"Um, Draco, how do we get in?" Harry asked, jamming his hands in his jean pockets and looking at the scarlet oak front door. Draco smirked and raised his wand, which had appeared from inside his sleeve.
"Simple," he pressed the wand to the door and spoke. "Nos dego in malefica." As soon as he had finished the Latin phrase, the door creaked open. Harry and Draco walked inside.
They had come into a grand foyer, which had a ceiling that spanned the entire three floors. The floor was made of opulent marble and there was white panelling with maroon and navy blue accents on the walls. High up in the air was a crystal chandelier. Everything looked brand new.
"The House-elves must clean here every now and then," Draco mumbled to himself. "I swear, those lot are obsessive compulsive." Harry gave a short laugh then fell silent again. To tell the truth, the room was giving him the creeps.
"Draco, not to sound weird and all, but are there any ghosts here?" Harry asked, looking around the room worriedly.
"A fair few, but none really appear. Well, except two." Draco trailed of softly, looking around the room. Taking off his jacket, he dumped it on the floor and kept walking into the house.
"Two?" Harry called weakly after him, but Draco did not answer, he had disappeared up the winding oak staircase.
Following him, Harry looked at the portraits on the walls. Neither moved, and Harry then looked up at Draco, and the portraits rippled as he passed them. Confused, Harry ran up the few steps between them then laughed at Draco's face. Running up more, he passed Draco and got to the top of the stairs.
Laughing, Harry turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.
On the floor in front of him lay a body. It was turned on its stomach, but it was obviously male. Blond hair spilled over the back of his neck, but none of his features were visible. Harry moved forward quietly; kneeling down, he gently turned the body over and retched, falling back on his haunches.
The body wasn't the thing that made him feel sick; it was who the body belonged to. Draco's steel grey irises stared up at him, utterly dead. His pale skin had turned a grey hue and his lips were lilac.
"Oh my god!" Harry whispered, feeling even more ill. A shuffling behind him caused Harry to look up and almost faint. Coming towards him slowly was another man, his eyes wide and partially covered by his glasses and his hair... black hair!
Harry's heart was beating wildly as he scrambled to a standing position.
It was him. The same cheekbones, the same chin, the same nose. He was seeing himself and Draco; dying or alive- just.
"Draco?" the ghost Harry whispered. Somewhere behind him, another person gave a small whimper. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of blond hair and knew it was Draco. That didn't make him feel any better. The real, alive Draco moved towards the ghost Harry and raised his arms to him.
Draco's arms dropped around the ghost Harry's waist and he let out a terrible cry; it sounded like someone was ripping an internal organ out while he was still alive. Harry watched in horror as he struggled against Draco's arms, screaming and wailing, tears streaming from his eyes.
Hazel eyes. He wasn't Harry!
"DRACO! NO, stop, let him go, it's not us, Draco, it's not us!" he said in a panicked tone. Draco stopped holding onto the other Harry and leant back against the real Harry. They watched as the look-alike ran past them both and dropped next to the body. He moaned in despair.
"Draco?" he whispered, crawling up to the body, moving to put the head in his lap. Fingers danced lightly over the fine features, and his breathing was erratic. He seemed to be on the verge of a total breakdown. He looked up, peering somewhere over Draco's right shoulder. "You have to help him!" he moaned.
"I cannot help him." Came a firm reply. Beside Harry, Draco stiffened, then reached down and grasped Harry's hand tightly, entwining their fingers. The ghost Harry wailed.
"PLEASE! HE IS YOUR BROTHER, PLEASE HELP HIM!" he cried at the person.
"Harold, he is dead." Harold wailed again and started to cry.
"IT'S NOT TRUE! IT'S NOT TRUE!" he shouted, getting hysterical. He placed a hand over the body's stomach and leant of it, weeping. "I cannot live without him."
"Then you shall not," there was a flash of light and Harold started to choke. He spat up blood then slumped over the body, the image fading, leaving two terrified men in its wake.
Spinning Draco around, Harry pulled the smaller man against him, needing to feel the life there. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and was breathing deeply into his shoulder.
"Who were they?" Harry whispered after a few minutes of complete silence. Draco said nothing, but took Harry's hand again and dragged him through several corridors and rooms to a large study.
The mahogany desk was empty, with only a candelabrum on it, and around the room were several large armchairs. Harry fell into one now, physically exhausted from their encounter.
"Who were they Draco?" he asked again. Draco looked around nervously and brought his fingers up to his mouth briefly before dropping them.
"First, I've only seen them once before. And even then, I only saw Harold. I'm amazed that I could see both of them today." He paused. "Their names are Harold and Draco; you know this all ready. They both lives here during the late 1970's; it was their home, they were very happy here. They moved in together in 1979, after graduating from Hogwarts. They were lovers, by the way." He added, sensing Harry's confusion. "They only lived here for a year. During that time, both their brothers married and they lived in peace. One day, there was a fight. Both Harold and Draco were... killed. Brutally, in cold blood. All because they loved each other."
"But, why?" Harry asked.
"Why did they love each other?" Draco shrugged. "Their love was a strange thing. They came from two pureblood Houses that hated each other and their love was forbidden. Maybe that's why they fell in love. But there was another reason. To put it simply, they were soulmates."
Harry stared at Draco blankly. "Soulmates?" Draco nodded.
"Two halves of one soul. They were complete opposites; Harold had a dark colouring with a lighter personality. Draco had my colouring, a pale, almost icy complexion with a dark side. But they were perfect for each other.
"When we were born, there were strange coincidences that were observed. We share birthdays with them. Draco was born on the same day as me; 5th June, though he is admittedly 18 years older than I. Harold shares your brother, 31st July. He was even born at midnight like you."
"That's strange," Harry murmured. "He looked like me too. Except for my eyes."
"No, your eyes are your mothers. But yes, you look like Harold."
"Everybody says I look like my father, but why Harold?" Draco fixed Harry with a piercing gaze.
"You look like Harold because he was a Potter. To be more precise, he was your father's youngest brother."
An eerie silence reigned. And then all of a sudden, the sounds of a piano began to play and a child laughed. Draco's eyes went wide and a tear slipped down his cheek.
"Chrissy?"