The Human Stain
By Anna Kate
Warning: Explicit Content in this chapter, towards the end.
Chapter Thirteen- The Dragon's Madness
As Harry, Draco and Pansy headed upstairs (via a very hairy carpet ride, and going back into the star chamber), Harry learnt about Pansy's current life. She and Draco didn't speak a word about their dead daughter, and the Gryffindor felt a cold barrier between the two of them.
Pansy had turned on the Death Eaters when she had found out that Lucifer had murdered her daughter. Though Draco and Pansy were the worst thought-up couple in the world, their mutual love of their daughter was what had probably kept them going for years. Pansy, once her back was turned, was on Lucifer's Death List. When he got the opportunity to kill her, he would. So, she lived at Hogwarts, and taught Herbology, which apparently she was surprisingly good at.
"Sometimes I'm tempted to feed a few first years to the Snapping Dragon, but…" she started giggling at the look on Harry's face. On the fourth floor, she left them and hurried off towards a classroom of some description, snapping at children to get to their classes right away. Harry and Draco walked back to Draco's rooms quietly, and sadly being caught up in the changeover rush as classes scurried to their next lessons.
By the time they reached the tower, Draco was cursing all the students under his breath in every way imaginable.
"Stupid little toerags. Blasted toads." He snarled, as he threw himself down onto one of the sofas. Harry smiled and sat on the arm beside his head. Reaching out, Harry stroked Draco's hair quietly, fascinated by the way it ran through his fingers easily. Draco gave a long sigh and his eyes fluttered closed.
Harry had to smile at the look on Draco's face. He looked peaceful, as though nothing was wrong in the world of Draco Malfoy. Harry had seen Draco look like that for the years they were together. At the beginning, Draco wouldn't fall asleep until Harry had secured the entire house right down to their room. He was paranoid, but rightly so.
Harry got off the arm of the sofa, and manoeuvred Draco around, until Harry could fit behind him on the sofa. Climbing over the blonde, waking him slightly, Harry settled down behind his lover and promptly fell asleep.
0!0
It was early February, 1998, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were all sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Harry were playing chess (which Ron was thrashing Harry at) and Hermione was reading a new novel her parents had sent her for Christmas. Hermione dropped the book as Ginny ran in, panting and flushed red.
"It's… Malfoy! He's missing!" she gasped, doubled over, her hands on her knees.
"What!" Hermione exclaimed, picking up the book and looking at Ginny.
"It's true! I heard McGonagall talking to someone in her office. Malfoy's missing!" the redhead flopped down onto the sofa. "Parkinson's going insane about it!"
"Remind me why we care about Malfoy, Gin?" Ron mumbled as he studied his knight's next move. Ginny just threw a pillow at his head.
"What do you mean, missing?' Harry asked, looking up from the chess board.
"Missing. As in, in an unknown location." Ginny said, quite sarcastically. Harry frowned.
"That's strange." Harry mumbled, and Ron looked at him strangely.
"Why strange? Malfoy just realised that he was being a prick and everyone hated him, so he scampered. He's a murdering git anyway." Ron explained, as if it were the only reason.
"I agree. But, don't you think it's odd?" the black-haired boy said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"No." Ron looked at him blankly. Hermione sighed and shut the book she was reading.
"I hate to agree with Ron, but he's right. Malfoy just realised that he wasn't wanted here, and so he left."
"I don't think it's as simple as that. I'm going to go speak to McGonagall." Then Harry got up and left, leaving a very stunned Ron and Hermione behind.
"What's up with him?"
"Merlin knows." Ron said, as he went back to studying the chessboard. "But I sure don't."
00
Harry had sprinted from Gryffindor tower to McGonagall's office in less than 10 minutes, but by the time he had arrived, he was wheezing and very dizzy. Attempting to shrug it off, Harry said the password and climbed onto the winding staircase. McGonagall was obviously expecting him.
"Mr. Potter." She greeted him from behind her desk.
"Where's Draco?" Harry asked, slumping down in an armchair. McGonagall looked pale and tired, as if she had been up for a week. Or died several days ago…
"… We don't know, Harry." She admitted very softly. Harry leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.
"Shit." He breathed, as his hands raked through his hair. He looked up again after a few minutes. "Any way we can find him?"
"No." McGonagall shook her head. Harry breathed out harshly, and paled.
"I don't feel very well…" he mumbled before he blacked out.
00
Harry woke up in the hospital wing, with Madam Pomfrey bustling over him. He was in pyjamas, and lying very very still on the bed. Everything around him was blurry, and he really couldn't remember why he was here to begin with.
"Stay still, Mr Potter, you've had a rather nasty crack on the head." Madam Pomfrey told him, and Harry could believe it. His head was pounding, and hurt like hell. So he lay still, eyes closed hoping the pain would go away. Then he remembered.
"DRACO!" he shouted, sitting up sharply, and then he was hit by a wave of dizziness that caused him to lie down once again. Madam Pomfrey tsked and waved her wand over him.
"Concussion." She sighed. "You'll have to stay here for a few days, Mr. Potter. Go to sleep, I'll wake you up in an hour."
'But how can I sleep?' thought Harry, as his eyes fluttered shut. 'When I don't know where he is…'
00
"Harry?" Harry looked up from where he was lying. Above him were branches and leaves, dappling the ground below him and his face. He looked down at his body, and noticed the school robes. Looking around, he spotted a boy leaning over him, just behind his head. "Good, you're awake."
"Well spotted." Harry replied sarcastically and the boy laughed. "Help me up." The boy moved, and held out a hand for Harry to take. Harry looked at the slim long pale fingers and perfectly shaped nails and then took the hand, standing up. They did not drop hands when Harry was balanced. He looked around, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Where are we?"
The boy frowned at Harry, and only then did Harry notice his appearance. His hair was shoulder-length, straight and so blond it was almost white. His skin was pale, smooth, flawless except for a small scar on his right cheekbone under his eye. His eyes were large and grey, delicately formed and perfect. He was a beautiful boy. "Don't you recognise the grounds?"
Harry looked up and round, and then smiled. He had been lying by the large oak tree next to the lake. They stood together, the boy looking out over the lake, and then he turned to Harry. The sky suddenly darkened, and the wind picked up.
"Harry, listen to me. I'm in danger. You can't follow me to where I'm going. But I'll return, I promise. Tell my mum… Tell my mum I love her." He smiled sadly, and then crumpled to the floor.
00
Harry woke up, turned on his side, and threw up. His eyes were tear-filled as he retched and coughed, and he felt Madam Pomfrey's hand on his back, patting gently.
"That's it, Harry, better out than in." she was saying to him softly. When Harry was finished, she flicked her wand at the floor, which was instantly clean, and then she soothed back his hair as he lay back on his pillows. "Sit up and have a drink, Harry. Come on." She coaxed him to sit up and pressed the cold glass rim against his lips so he drunk, then lowered him down again and let him sleep.
He thankfully did not dream again that night.
00
Harry was woken up briefly every hour that night, and when he was fully awake in the morning, he refused to eat, or speak. Ron and Hermione visited briefly, but when all he could do was look at them, they had left. Ginny struck up a one-sided conversation, verging on a monologue, but left after Harry gave her a very pointed look.
He really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He just wanted Draco back, as quickly as possible. Madam Pomfrey didn't try to talk to him, just told him what she was going to do in the way of spells, and left it at that. It was easier than trying to strike up a conversation with someone who didn't want to talk.
And so, this routine continued for a week. Every day went by with Harry not speak, just staring out the window or looking straight ahead. He would have fitful nightmares at night and wake up only to throw up over the side of his bed. Madam Pomfrey would tidy him up, give him something to drink then leave him alone. Eventually, even Ron and Hermione stopped visiting.
Almost a week after Harry had fallen from McGonagall's chair and refused to talk to anyone, a strange event took place at night. While Harry was dozing in his bed, the doors of the hospital wing were thrown open and three teachers came in, dragging something along with them.
"LET ME GO! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" apparently, the thing they were dragging had a voice. It soundly highly familiar. "GET OFF ME!"
"Calm down at once!" snapped McGonagall, brandishing her wand. "We have other patients here." The rustling of robes stopped, the bodyless voice seemed to have stopped struggling.
"Where am I?" the voice sounded pitiful now.
"You're in Hogwarts." McGonagall replied calmly.
"Where's Severus?"
"… We don't know."
"I want Severus." The voice began to break. "I really really want Severus back." It sounded to be crying. "He said I would be safe! He told me I would be okay! Where is he?"
"As I said, we don't know Mr. Malfoy."
Harry had to hold back a gasp. Malfoy? They had found him! Relief flooded through him, the terrible thoughts he had been thinking clearing up into the single feeling that, yes, Draco was here and he was okay.
Draco was settled down and left alone. Once the hospital wing door was shut and locked, Harry crept out of his bed.
"Draco?" he whispered, and he saw the thin form of the other boy stiffen.
"Who's there?" Draco hissed, and Harry's heart dropped.
"It's me… Harry." He replied, and the figure relaxed. Harry edged closer until he was standing by Malfoy's bed. Draco looked up at him, the lower half of his face hidden by the duvet. His eyes were wide and blood-shot; if you had seen him on the street, you would have thought he was on drugs of some kind. But Harry recognised eyes like those. Eyes that had never seen a restful night, for they were haunted by nightmares.
Harry held out his hand to Draco, hoping the other boy would hold onto it, not at all expecting the reaction he received. Draco took his hand and rubbed his face against it, as a cat would do! Harry let him do this, turning his palm so it rested against the other boys face. It was a gesture so intimate that only a blind person would not pick up on it's meaning.
"Where were you?" Harry whispered, kneeling down by the edge of Draco's bed. Draco shook his head, and pressed a shaking finger to Harry's lip, saying 'shhh.'
"I can't say. They might hear!"
"Who might hear, Draco?" Harry asked quietly, and Draco shook his head vehemently. His eyes were wide and terrified. "Draco, you have to tell me." Draco shook his head again, and moved back onto his bed, covering his ears with his hands. "Shush, shush, it's okay, you're safe. Trust me." Harry moved up to sit on the edge of the bed. He ended up half-lying down, and the quivering blond pressed against his side, terrified and alone.
"… I trust you." Draco whispered against his pyjama top, moving the fabric gently with his breath. Harry's breath hitched.
"You what?"
"I trust you, Harry." Draco's eyes were clear, sincere, not clouded like they had been seconds before. "I trust you." Harry's eyes were wide, while Draco moved up his body and placed a very small kiss on his lips, barely pressing their lips together, while Harry's eyes took a distinct likeness to a bugs.
"… uh?" Harry said, rather eloquently, and Draco gave a very very tiny squeak and dived back under the covers, a tuft of blond hair sticking out under the checked cover. Harry stared at the vague figure under the duvet.
They had struck up a strange friendship over the Christmas Holidays. Harry hadn't formally forgiven Draco for Dumbledore's death. But the young wizard was showing signs of madness. He would talk to himself, or have mood swings where one minute he and Harry would be laughing and the next minute he would punch Harry in the face. He could turn very childish and obnoxious in seconds. It was… odd, though he had never been formally diagnosed. Harry had the strange urge to protect him, and stop whatever was happening to him. It was easier than hating him.
"Draco?"
"Go 'way." Came the mumble.
"Draco, what was that?"
"A kiss, what do you think it was?"
"I meant, why did you… kiss me?"
"… 'cause I wanted to."
Silence.
"… You wanted to kiss me?"
"Yes. Go 'way."
… How could Harry argue with that?
00
Draco was recovering slowly. He had been dehydrated, weak with exhaustion and hunger and slightly delusional. He was better in the sense that he was calmer and more rational. But, he was still… well, mad!
"Mr. Malfoy, you have to eat." Harry could hear Pomfrey scolding the other boy from his cubicle.
"No. I don't want to. I want Severus!" He snapped, and Harry's brow furrowed. Draco was being obnoxious again.
"Mr. Malfoy! Put that knife down at once!" Harry stood up and walked across the Hospital Wing to Draco's cubicle. When he opened the curtain, Pomfrey was holding Draco's wrist tightly, and the other boy was clutching a knife. He dropped it when he saw Harry.
"Harry…" he spoke softly, and crawled towards the end of the bed, Pomfrey moving out of the way as he moved. Harry offered his hand and the Slytherin took it.
"Why did you pick up the knife?" Harry asked calmly and Draco shrugged smoothly. He had no reason to pick up the knife, he just did. Harry rolled his eyes, and Madam Pomfrey left. Draco was still rubbing against his hand with his face. "Why do you do that?" the blond looked at him.
"Why do I do what?" Draco asked.
"Rub your face… against my hand. Why?" Harry replied, and he raised an eyebrow. Draco shrugged again and curled up on the bed.
"I just do." He spoke softly, and Harry knelt down next to the edge of his bed. Draco moved forward again, as if to kiss him once more, but Harry leant back on his heels. He put a hand up.
"No."
"No what?"
"No, you can't kiss me."
"… but I want to."
"No." Harry told him firmly, but mid-sentence, Draco leaned forward quickly and kissed him firmly on the lips. Harry's eyes fluttered closed and his mouth opened, letting Draco explore his mouth. He didn't know why he was reacting to this, why he was submitting. Maybe he, too, had finally gone insane like Draco.
0!0
Harry woke up mid-afternoon, yawning and stretching. He froze. The warmth of the body that had been next to him had gone, and he didn't know where Draco was.
"Draco?" he mumbled as he sat up. He looked around blearily, and spotted the tall blonde moving around in the kitchen. Adjusting his glasses, Harry stood and stretched again. He moved around the sofa and headed into the kitchen, where Draco stood sipping a glass of water.
"You were dreaming and woke me up, so I moved." Draco replied before Harry even asked. Harry smiled.
"I was dreaming about 7th year? Remember?" he asked, and Draco nodded and smiled. He put down the glass of water, and took Harry's hand, pressing it to his face and rubbing against it. Harry's breath caught in his throat. It was odd when the person doing that was a mad 17-year-old blond boy. Now, it was sexy watching an intelligent 42-year-old man rub himself against Harry's hand. But then, Draco pulled on Harry's hand and dragged the other man forward, so they were pressed together, leaning against a counter.
Draco trailed a hand down Harry's check, and then the hand went further as he leaned it to place a kiss on Harry's lips. Then the kisses became harder, stronger, and more passionate and Harry was returning with equal vigour. Draco's hands trailed down his body, then he broke off the kiss.
"Shirt. Off." No please, but Harry did it anyway, lifting the t-shirt up and over his head. Draco ran his hands down Harry's chest, trailing over the very faint hair there, and paused at the top of his jeans, hooking two fingers into the belt. He jerked Harry's forward and kissed him harshly, and Harry could tell that Draco was very happy to be doing this.
Harry rid Draco of his shirt, running his hand down Draco's sides and across his back, the moving down to kiss Draco's neck. Draco threw his head back so Harry could get better access. He was giving breathless moans, his chest heaving with each gasp.
"Bedroom. Now." Harry whispered against the soft skin behind Draco's ear. Draco shook his head.
"No time."
000
Author's Note: I thought this chapter would be the death of me. Seriously! I couldn't get started, then I got to the flashback and it perked up a bit. I didn't really have a set idea for how Harry and Draco would get together, it was mainly just the idea that Draco went mad during their 7th year. Madness isn't something I'm familiar with, so excuse any errors I've made.
This was fun to write, actually. Especially the 'explicit content', though I'm still not quite confident enough to write sex. I will do, sometime, and warn you too. Next chapter should be interesting, coz it's when the BIG THINGS happen and we get towards the climax of the story, so I'm happy.
I have to go camping this weekend on my Duke of Edinburgh Practice Expedition! YAY! Not. Ah well.
-Anna Kate