Y'all remember how chapter 11 featured a moment that was a preview of what to come for chapter 12? *smiles mysteriously* I HIGHLY recommend you keep that thought in mind as you read this chapter and think about what's to come for the boys in the next one. As usual, thanks so much for the love. Happy, soon-to-be Patriots weekend.
Chapter 19: Drowning in Fear, Burning in the Fire
Harry should have known that trouble didn't settle, at least as far as he was concerned. While the response wasn't always immediate, it did eventually come to collect.
And weeks later it did, as students were returning from evening classes and study hall when a scream tore through the air, cutting through the noises like a knife.
"She's gone!" a first-year Gryffindor yelled. "The Fat Lady! She's gone!"
Dumbledore and the teachers, along with half the student body, raced over to the Gryffindor wing.
The Fat Lady's portrait was slashed viciously with a set of sharp claws that chunks of it littered on the floor. Dumbledore found the woman a few paintings away, pale and trembling behind a hedge, looking like she came face-to-face with Death itself.
"My lady, what happened?" he asked.
"Sirius Black!" she cried. "He's here. In the castle."
Blood drained from Harry's face as panic filled the air.
The headmaster sent the students back to the Great Hall. First Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins. Within an hour, they were all huddled in sleeping bags throughout the room.
"Do you really think Black is in the castle?" Theo asked.
"Well, we're not camping out in the Great Hall because of the wind, Nott." Pansy snapped.
Theo growled, sending the girl a withering look, but continued on. "The question is why? Why now? Why not come when half the school was at Hogsmeade?"
"Because it's Halloween."
The group paused. Harry was shocked by the connection as they were. He was even more shocked by the fact the connection was pointed out by him, the words coming out from his own mouth.
Six years ago on this day, Voldemort broke into his house and murdered his parents. Six years ago on this day, Sirius ran after betraying his best friend.
Supposedly, a voice whispered in his head.
Harry didn't need to turn around to know Draco was sliding closer to him. He heard him moving. He felt his hand slip through his and gripped onto it.
The candles all went out at once. The only source of light came from the silvery ghosts and the enchanted ceiling that was designed like the evening sky, dotted with stars. Once every hour, a teacher reappeared in the hall to check that everything was quiet and calm. Around three in the morning, when most of the students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in.
"Headmaster?" Severus. Harry kept still, listening hard. "The whole third floor has been searched. He's not there. Flich checked the dungeons and there appears to be no sign of him either."
"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"
"All searched."
"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."
"Any theory as to how he got in?" Severus asked.
Theory? His hand still clasped in Draco's, Harry raised his head slightly off his pillow to hear better.
"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."
Harry opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood a few feet away from his head. Dumbledore's back was to him and from the angle he was in he could see the anger twisting his uncle's face.
"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before the start of the term?"
"I do, Severus." Dumbledore said, a warning edge to his voice.
"It seems almost impossible that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed-"
"I do not believe a single person inside the castle would have helped Black enter it," The tone in Dumbledore's voice made it clear the subject was closed. "I said I would inform the Ministry when the search was completed. Now if you would excuse me."
Dumbledore left the hall, walking quietly and quickly. Severus stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep, unflinching resentment that caught Harry off guard.
Sirius Black was the topic of discussion for the next few days. Rumors and theories flew around the school on how he could have gotten in. One student believed he transformed into a plant and was mistakenly brought in. Another rumor was that he made a deal with the dementors, exchanging a safe passage for his soul. The other, one that was the most popular, was someone from the school willingly let him in. A theory that was the exact one Severus expressed to Dumbledore nights ago.
The teachers managed to restore the Fat Lady's portrait, but she refused to resume her post. She was still traumatized from the attack. The others were just as frightened, all but Sir Cadogan that was the only one brave enough to take the job.
As brave as the knight was, he was also a pain based on what his friends told him. According to Seamus, he challenged people to duels and came up with ridiculously complicated passwords which he changed twice a day.
Harry tried to push away thoughts of Sirius and focus on keeping up with his assignments and preparing upcoming Quidditch game after finding out Draco's substitute would take his spot and they were playing against Hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor. Apparently a prank-gone-wrong from the twins sent half their players to the hospital wing, forcing Oliver to withdraw his team from the match. Despite the fact he was juggling several things at once, Harry couldn't help noticing that he was being watched more closely. Some of the teachers escorted him from class to class. Severus summoned him to his office almost every night to make sure things were well. Aunt Cissa and Uncle Lucius sent more letters. Draco…well, Harry would like to say things were as the same before, but since Sirius's failed (or successful, depending on who you asked) break-in, his best friend stayed close to his side. Which wasn't that different except now Draco practically sneered at anyone who approached them he didn't deem as trust-worthy, even at Ron and Hermione which wasn't all that surprising since the blonde didn't hold a deep love for them but still. Whenever they fell asleep, Draco made sure the wards secured every inch of the room and held him tight, almost as if he expected Harry to be taken away any second.
If Harry was uneasy about the Sirius-thing, Draco was downright against it, set on having the man's head if he showed his face. A thought that would have been laughable if he didn't remember the massacre Sirius left behind Halloween night, along with the marketplace in Egypt that was left in shambles by the time he was through with it.
"Why the Gryffindor wing?" Harry wondered out loud as he, Draco, Theo, and Pansy were working on their Ancient Runes homework at the library.
Draco frowned, wanting the matter to be dropped. Theo, on the other, pushed homework aside and launched into an explanation.
"Well, its obvious isn't it?" At the blanks looks he received, Theo sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Harry couldn't help comparing the gestures to Hermione, wondering if the two were friendly with each other, or at least civil. "Gryffindor was Black's house. More importantly, it's a Potter House. He was looking for you."
"Why not then check Slytherin?" Pansy asked.
"Why would he? Think about it. Harry's father was a Gryffindor, so it's natural for one to assume that his son would be placed in his house. The chances of an alumni's child being placed anywhere else but their own house are quite slim. It's like Draco being in Gryffindor."
An image of Draco dressed in red and gold and the expression on his face when he found out he was sharing a room with four other people popped into Harry's head. The image was so baffling, he laughed. "I bet Uncle would love that."
Draco glowered at him.
Pansy laughed as well but for an entirely different reason, saying, "Or like dear Nott in Hufflepuff."
Theo shot her a dark look. "At least I stand a better chance of being a Hufflepuff than you being a Ravencla-ow!" He slumped in his seat, hands reaching down to his freshly-bruised shin Pansy kicked in.
On Wednesday afternoon, students were seated at their desks, waiting for Remus who had yet made his appearance. Draco shot daggered-looks at Hermione, who had taken the seat next to Harry, forcing him to move to a another table. Any other day Hermione would respond to those looks with dark ones of her own. Today she was too focused on her notes to pay attention to Draco's death glares.
Harry examined her. The poor girl looked exhausted. Dark, almost-thick rims were embedded around her eyes. Her bushy hair was tied into a lazy bun. Every now and then she had to blink her eyes to keep from falling asleep.
"Are you alright?"
She gave him a soft smile. "Just a lot of homework."
A loud slam brought the class's attention to the back. Severus strode into the room, closing every window shutter with a wave of his wand, casting the place into semi-darkness with candles from the ceiling shedding some light. He waved his wand at the projector screen that was pulled itself down and turned to the students.
"Turn to page 394."
There was a moment of hesitation that was quickly broken by Severus who increased the intensity of his glare. Books were brought out and pages were turned.
Harry looked over at Draco. The blonde's brow was arched questioningly. He decided to ask the burning question that was on their minds. "Excuse me, sir. What happened to Professor Lupin?"
His uncle's glare didn't falter as his eyes landed on Harry. "I don't see how it should concern you, Mr. Potter. In any event, it has come to my attention that Professor Lupin has fallen ill. I shall be taking over the class until then."
Severus went over to the projector but they were still students slacking with their books. Impatient, he flicked his wrist and the pages turned themselves.
"Werewolves." Ron said, stunned.
Hermione looked over at Severus. "But, sir, we haven't finished discussing chapter three yet."
"Quiet." he ordered. On the screen appeared a creature that looked like it was being crucified. Arms stretched, legs apart, head hung low. The body appeared human but the face looked like that of a demon.
"Now," Severus slowly walked over to the front. "Which of you can tell me the difference between an Anigmaus and a werewolf?"
Hermione's hand shot up. Severus was oblivious to it, shaking his head. "No one? How disappointing."
"Sir, please," Hermione said. "An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can change into an animal of their choosing. A werewolf has no choice in the matter. With each full moon, he loses himself and gives into the beast within. With the creature in control, he could end up killing anyone who crosses his path. Even his best friend."
Draco tilted his head back and howled, gaining snickers from the Slytherins and a nasty glare from Hermione.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Severus drawled. His eyes were hard as stone as they looked over at Hermione. "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Ms. Granger. Do you have difficulty restraining yourself or do you take pleasure in being an insufferable know-it-all?"
"Valid." Draco choked the word out as he coughed into his fist. "Valid."
Harry shot him a warning glare. Draco played it off with a smile that too smug for its own good. Hermione stared straight ahead, ignoring the snickers. She latched onto her bottom lip in an attempt to calm herself as tears filled her eyes.
Harry opened his mouth to defend her. Ron immediately jumped in, glaring at Severus.
"You asked us a question and she knew the answer. Why ask if you don't want to be told?"
Severus merely stared. "I congratulate you two. You cost your house five points each."
"That's not fai-"
Severus cut Ron off with an icy look. "Attempt to finish that sentence, Weasley, and you will serve a month's detention."
From the corner of Harry's eye, he watched Draco folding a piece of paper. Once done, he sent the note-in the shape of a crane-flying with an air-kiss and a smirk. Harry caught it just in time to see as Severus addressed the class.
"As an antidote to your ignorance, you will each write an essay, to be hand-delivered to me, on the ways to recognize and kill werewolves-"
Groans and remarks filled the room. Severus raised his voice to be heard over the commotion.
"By Monday morning." he finished.
"But, sir, its Quidditch tomorrow-" Harry began and was cut short as Severus leaned in.
"Then I suggest you take extra care, Mr. Potter. Lose of limb will not excuse you." he said. "Page 394."
When Severus's back was turned, Harry attended to the note. Unfolding the paper, he saw Draco had drawn Harry on his broom, his head target practice for incoming balls. Underneath the drawing, Draco wrote Try not to slack off, Potter. Bet ten gallons on you.
What a pal. Rolling his eyes, Harry looked over at Draco. He smiled, amused, eating up the scowl on Harry's face as if it was cake. "Prat." he mouthed.
Harry wasn't sure what happened. He wasn't even sure how it happened.
He remembered how terrible the weather was. The rain pouring in heavy sheets and the wind blowing gusts of air so strong he had to hol tightly onto his broom to keep from falling. He remembered going neck-and-neck with Cedric Diggory for the golden snitch. He remembered holding the snitch for only a second until…until…
He was swarmed, cornered from every angle. The cold latching onto his body like sharp tentacles, deeper than the sharp wind, deeper than an ordinary chill, dragging him under. The screaming growing louder, pounding from every corner of his head.
"Not Harry. Please. I'll do anything."
"Stand aside, foolish girl."
"No, please!"
Mum! He needed to find her. He had to protect her. His body refused to move though.
"You are so loved, Harry." She attempted to smile through her tears as she cupped his face, gently stroking his skin, trying to stop his trembling even though she was herself.
The last thing Harry heard was her final scream and the Dark Lord's cruel laughter before everything went black.
"I think he's waking up."
"Dear Merlin, I thought he was a goner."
"Looks like you owe me five gallon, Nott."
There was a moment of silence, then a pained hiss.
"You can be a real arse sometimes, you know that." Harry made out Pansy's voice as the fog of dizziness lifted.
"Be quiet!" Hermione ordered. "All of you."
"Stuff it, Granger." There was no question as to who made that remark.
Harry cracked his eyes open and immediately regretted it, blinded by the brightness of the room that made pain shoot from one temple to the other. He waited awhile for the pain and remaining dizziness to clear before he opened his eyes again.
He was lying in a bed in the hospital wing. Draco and Hermione were on the bed with him, sitting on opposite sides with him on the left and her on the right. On each sides of his bed were the rest of his friends. Pansy, Theo, and Blaise were by Draco's side. Ron and his brothers by Hermione's.
"How do you feel, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Brilliant." he croaked, wincing at the throbbing flaring at his left temple.
"Glad to see your charms are inta-Ouch!" Blaise cried as Pansy dug her elbow deep into his side.
Theo handed Harry his glasses. Harry thanked him with a nod and used his elbows to prop himself up into sitting position, ignoring the painful protests his body made. "What happened?"
"You fell," George began.
"A good fifty feet." Fred finished.
"I what-" Memories slammed against his head. The thick sheets of rain that made it impossible to see. His fingers an inch away from the golden snitch. The dementors. The cold. His mother screaming. Voldemort laughing.
"We thought you were dead."
Harry blinked, breaking free of his thoughts and looked up at Draco. His bloodshot eyes focused on his fists, repeatedly clenching onto the hospital blanket. Harry opened his mouth, wanting to dig deeper into the issue, but remembered there were other people in the room and knew it was a discussion that would be saved for later.
"What about the game?" Harry asked. "Did we win?"
Grimaces crossed their faces, one by one. George was the only one brave enough to answer his question.
"Diggory kinda, well, caught the snitch after you fell. He didn't realize it till the end."
"Complete bullshit if you ask me." Pansy said.
"Well, thankfully no one asked you." Theo remarked, unfazed by the fierce scowl she sent him. "Bottom line, he caught the snitch. Harry didn't. We may not like it but he won fair and square."
"Dumbledore was furious," Hermione said. "I don't think I've seen him that angry. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and slowed you down before you hit the ground. Then whirled his wand to the dementors and chased them away."
"That's not all." Ron croaked.
Harry turned over to his direction and his insides lurched. The dozens of pieces of splintered wood and twigs were the only remains to Harry's favorite, faithful broom.
Madame Pomfey insisted that Harry stayed over the rest of the week for observations. Harry didn't argue but he did put up a fight against having the mangled remains of his broomstick being thrown away. Maybe it was foolish, considering the fact he had others, but the Nimbus 2000 was his favorite. It was the broom he used when he tried out for the team. The broom he used for their first game and every one after that. It was his good luck charm and now it was destroyed. Harry mourned its loss like he lost a good friend.
His friends came over almost everyday to cheer him up with stories, gossip, news, and treats. He was relieved to hear that Dumbledore put a firmer lease on the dementors.
"Thanks to Father, no doubt," Draco said. "Right after the game, a letter came from him."
After Potions, Draco came to the hospital-wing, dropping down his schoolbag and joining Harry on the bed. Madame Pomfey rolled her eyes when she came in to give Harry his medicine and saw the two were entangled together. She didn't bother arguing about it, but did close the curtain on the way out, giving them privacy.
Harry imagined how colorful the language in that letter was and chuckled. "Must have been some letter."
Draco nodded as he stroked Harry's hair absentmindedly. "It was tame compared to the letter Minister Fudge received from them."
Harry was never more glad not to be Minister Fudge, remembering how the man's last visits to the Manor ended. The thought was soon discarded as another came to his head. It wasn't too long ago that Draco was the one bedridden, recovering from injury while Harry was the one visiting. Chuckling, he said "Ironic."
"What's ironic?"
"You were here because you irritated a proud Hippogriff. Almost two months later, I'm here because I'm dementor bait. It's kinda-"
"Not funny!" Draco snapped.
Harry blinked, then looked up at Draco. His eyes were still hooded, carrying the shadows they held after Harry awakened from his fall. His jaw was clamped tight, his teeth grinding. "Draco?"
The blonde untangled his body from Harry's and swung his legs over the bed, sitting up and glaring at the wall as if it was a bug that needed to be squashed. His fisted hands clenched onto the blankets, nearly tearing the fabric apart.
"Losing you." he whispered.
Harry propped himself up on his elbows, his muscles weak from being bedridden for so long. "What?"
"Losing you," Draco repeated, eyes fixed on the wall. "You asked me what my greatest fear was. It's losing you."
A memory unfolded in his mind. Second year when Harry confronted Draco over what he said to Hermione and found out that his actions were driven by fear instead of arrogance. Fear that Harry would abandon him. "Draco, I told you. I would never leave-"
"There's more than one way to leave someone." The words were spoken so quietly but they stopped Harry like a punch.
The fall was painful enough as it was from Harry's perspective. He could only imagined how it looked from Draco's.
"When you fell, my heart…it just stopped. It stopped. You were on the ground, pale and still. I wanted to run to you. I wanted-Severus held me back. Dumbledore tended to you but you didn't move. You were so…still. And I…I-" Draco shook his head, unable to finish. His fingers clenched onto the blanket, his shoulders shaking.
Harry moved over to Draco and laid his head on his shoulder. He could still feel the tension vibrating underneath his fingertips. It didn't stop even when Harry squeezed his shoulder.
To the public, Draco Malfoy was capable of only two emotions: arrogance and aloofness. Harry knew there was more to the story. He was the only permitted to see what lay beneath the smug, cold mask. The only one who knew there was scared, insecure boy wearing it. Growing up, they never hide from each other, not really. And if one tried, the other easily tore through the walls to unmask him. Each time Draco's was dropped, Harry saw the fear and sadness and pain that came over his eyes, feeling a sharp pang slicing through his chest. It did when they were six and Draco crashed into the tree, bruising his knee that was bleeding so much and sobbing horribly. It did when Draco finally came clean about his extreme dislike of Hermione and her words that planted seeds of doubt in his head. And it did now.
"Draco?" No response but that didn't stop Harry from trying. He wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders and pressed his chest against the blonde's back. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
Draco said nothing but laid his head on Harry's arm. Harry took that as a good sign, one that needed more conviction.
"I would never leave you. Ever."
Harry used his hand to stoke his cheek. Draco leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. "I'm yours," Harry murmured.
Draco looked up at him. Harry smiled as he leaned in closer, feeling razor-winged fluttering in his lower stomach.
"And you're mine."
He placed the smallest kiss on his bottom lip, goosebumps nicking his skin as the warmth churning in his stomach morphed to molten heat. Heat that intensified, growing impossibly hotter, as Harry moved the chaste kiss fully onto Draco's lips.
Breathing was stilled as chills tingled up his spine, warmth sweeping across his body like waves. Harry's stomach, heart, his entire body lurched as if he had been kicked. Unable to handle the intensity of the sensation, he eased away, needing to breathe. A hot hand grasped the back of his head, searing his flushed skin with their touch, and pulled him back in. Back to Draco who swallowed Harry's quiet breath-or gasp-before the sound was even uttered.
It was almost the same feeling he experienced whenever the dementors were near him. Only instead of drowning in the cold that threatened to freeze him from the inside out, he was drowning in fire that threatened to incinerate every inch of him.
As frightening as the sensation was, as overwhelming as the heat was, Harry couldn't bring himself to pull away. Just as the heat was melting away his insides, it was melting away rationality, thought. Anything and everything that didn't have to do with this feeling.
It was as if Draco didn't only need to see that Harry was alright, but needed to feel it. Needed to know that Harry was still in one piece, that he was okay. That he was still with him.
"Dra-"
Harry was slammed onto the bed, lying flat on his back, his hands pinned by either side of his head. Above him, silver eyes glowed before Draco crashed his lips onto his.
The mood abruptly changed from before. It wasn't like Draco needed reassurance that Harry was alright. He needed to be reacquainted with him and his taste. He leaned in closer, as if trying to bury himself into Harry's skin, rolling his hips.
Harry cried out from the small movement that caused heat to surge through to his lower body and Draco's strong grip that tightened. He cried out again, more so out of discomfort as he felt nails dig into his skin.
"Dra-Draco."
The blond only took that as an invitation to do more. Pressing himself closer, exploring further, embedding his nails deeper.
"Draco." Harry wrestled his wrists free from Draco's grasp."Draco." He placed his fists against his chest and pushed him away.
Vivid silver eyes stared back at him, bright as stars in the night sky.
Draco turned his head and curled his fists.
"Mr. Potter?" Madame Pomfey called. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes." he squeaked, remembering that they weren't alone. Not completely anyway. Merlin knew what she must have heard from the other side. The last thing either of them needed was her coming in and making the already-delicate moment even more awkward. He already knew from the fire burning his face that he was distraught.
When Draco turned back to Harry, his eyes were back to stony gray, his cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry." he murmured. He moved in closer and brushed his thumb against Harry's neck, against the marks his nails implanted. Shadows still lingered in his eyes.
Harry had a feeling that wasn't the only thing he was sorry about. His lips were still tingling."It's okay."
Draco clearly wasn't convinced but gave a small nod. He was still brushing his fingers against the marks, moving back and forth so slowly warmth coiled in Harry's stomach.