CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
[The Good Side]
DRACO
The paper crane rumpled in his hand as he looked out the far window. Glittering snowflakes fell soundlessly, taking their time before they reached their destined places of rest, enveloping everything in a calm, silent coldness that was comforting in its own special way. The grounds were covered in a thick blanket of white, statutes peeked out under their new white caps, footsteps and paw prints crisscrossed each other around the labyrinth of paths. Aside from the brown of the denuded trees, the only other color was the vibrant evergreens that shrouded the rippling lake. Draco felt safe here, in his own little bubble of warmth, as he looked out.
It was a waxing gibbous tonight and on Christmas eve there would be a full moon. Draco's heart ached at that. He never actually been alone for Christmas before. He always at least had someone, even if they were a nuisance. He almost wrote back to Bramble and asked if he could come to stay with her for the break. Draco had a price on his head though he and he wasn't going to risk her life again.
He sighed, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate as he looked down at the note Harry had sent him earlier today. The paper crane was a replica of his own little messenger birds. A fondness had whispered to him at the sight of it. It had been what was inside that caused the fog to form in his head.
Meet me at the tower, normal time, tonight. We really need to talk. -H
He knew why, Draco just didn't want to admit it to himself. Draco pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes until there were stars. His elbows rested on the grand piano he was sitting at.
He hadn't meant to avoid Harry. It had just happened while he was trying to sort out all his own shit. He didn't want to do something rash and hurt both of them. He needed this to keep going.
There was a rumble that caused Draco to lookup. Harry had finally shown himself (though it was Draco who was an hour early), swinging open the trapdoor on the floor and pulling himself up. He looked to be in a state of distress. His hair was wilder than it usually was and his robes he hadn't bothered to change out of were rumpled.
"You're here," he says with a tone of surprise.
"I'm here."
"You never replied. I thought… I thought you were going to blow me off."
"I wasn't avoiding you," he says without thinking, "If that's what this is about. Not on purpose on least."
Harry studies him as he brushes the dirt from his clothes. "Straight to the point, I guess."
"I'm not much of a small-talk person." Draco sets down his mug pointedly to give Harry his full attention. "I know why you wanted me here."
"Yeah?" Harry messes with his hair, trying to flatten it out a bit. Draco found the action oddly endearing despite the mood he was trying to set.
"It's not what you think," he says slowly. He spots the extra mug on the piano and gestures at it to the brunet. "Hot chocolate? I put a warming charm on it."
After an awkward couple of seconds, Harry seats himself perpendicular to Draco on the left side of the piano. The heavy object between keeps Draco from acting on impulse, yet their feet dance about each other. Harry's beat-up trainers pushed up against Draco's expensive dress shoes and their knees bumped together as if they were synched.
It takes a while for Harry to speak up again. He's to busy staring down at their feet. "I understand if you were. I know that you aren't exactly from a… well, accepting family. You said you were okay with it but you refused to even look at me so…"
Draco was horrible at expressing his emotions. He wanted to make Harry realize that wasn't the fucking problem at all. (Maybe distantly. His hate for himself had to have come from somewhere, right?) He didn't know how to do that and it frustrated him to no ends. It was his father's fault he couldn't do these things. Why he couldn't comfort Harry and why he had to collect his thoughts to begin with. In his collective fit of passive-aggressiveness, the only words that can come out of his mouth are, "Fuck them."
Harry looks up with surprise. Draco swallows the lump in his throat.
"I stopped caring about what my father thought of me a long time ago," lies, "His opinions only benefit himself. He's an arrogant pig."
While Harry barely talked about his relatives, Draco never talked about his family let alone his father. It was a taboo seeing as his father and mother were known death eaters. All Harry knew was that he was violent and empathic.
"That doesn't mean you didn't carry on their thoughts. Even if you don't realize it."
Draco stares at him. Harry cursed.
"I didn't mean it like that, I swear. I know you aren't like them. Bugger. Okay, what I meant to say is that are you really okay with it or just don't want to upset me? Because you said you were alright and you aren't. You mean well, I get it, but I need to know. It's driving me bloody crazy cause you m-" Harry stops himself. "You aren't making any sense."
Draco sighs and rubs his temples. "Neither, will that suffice? I don't bloody know. It's hard to explain. I'd rather we not discuss it. "
"That's not helping," Harry nearly whines. "You have to explain."
"No, I don't," Draco bites back. "Would you please trust me? I already said I didn't mean to avoid you and the fact you like blokes doesn't bother me."
It's the fact I like blokes is the problem. You specifically.
Harry's hand tightens around his mug. "You can't really want me to believe that? I don't know why you insist on bottling yourself up, but fine. Can you a least give me a little bit of information on why you can't bear to meet my eye since that night?"
Draco considers it for a moment. He deserved to have his mind put at ease that it wasn't his fault. Everything was Draco's, like always, and he needed to know that. "I was sorting through my head. Collecting my thoughts."
"So you did have a problem with it!"
"I never said that."
"Then what? I had stuff on my mind too and I could still look at you. You think the bucket loads of anxiety was me being dramatic? I'm the one worrying over what was happening."
"It's rather personal. And stupid. It would be better off if we forgot the whole thing. It's my fault and I apologies. It won't happen again.
Harry rolls his eyes at Draco's horrible attempt at blocking the question. He crosses his arms with a glare. "I know it may be new to you, but these kind things are a two-way street. You can't make my decisions on what's best for me or what's happening. You're being selfish, is what. This isn't just your decision."
Draco bites his tongue. Harry didn't get it. Everything would be ruined. Everything. Yet he wouldn't stop prodding at it. It wasn't his secret to tell anyways. Draco knew he was selfish yet when he was trying to help them unknowingly and it still wasn't enough was what hurt.
"I'm sorry," Draco finally spits out after the wake of Harry's outburst, "but I can't tell you."
Harry deflates with a huff and leans back in his seat. "Fine."
Draco watches him out of the corner of his eye. He didn't enjoy watching him suffer but it's was better this way. Harry was right with him not getting to decide what was best for him he supposed. He felt guilty on that part at least.
Draco took a deep breath a looked down at the piano keys resting near his hands. The piano reminded him of his mother and the choices he had. The last time he'd played it in a pit of self-loathing while questioning his entire family. Now looking at Harry's angst-riddled face, he realized perhaps he didn't have to only focus on the bad anymore.
Experimentally, he pushed down on one of the keys. Harry looked up in a slight surprise. Draco gauged his reaction before he continued on. His hands moved mostly on their own from years of practice growing up. He didn't sing this time - his mother used to make him - and instead opted to focus on Harry's reaction. The annoyance that had built up on his face had drifted away very subtly the longer Draco played.
The song ended just as quickly as it started. Harry snapped out of his trance which was focused on Draco's hands and finally looked up to meet his eye. "You should play more often," is all he says.
"Really? So no thank you or well done? Wheres my standing ovation? You think I would get more out of you after you've chased me for it for months now."
Harry shrugs. "Suck-up apology songs don't get applause."
Draco raises an eyebrow. "I suppose that's fair. Was I able to bride some forgiveness at least?"
Harry raises his chin. "We'll see. You have lots of forgiveness to do if you still refuse to tell me."
"Another song, then?"
Harry rolls his eyes then takes a long sip of his drink. Eventually, he finds his head laying on top of the cool piano, feeling the distant vibrations as Draco continues to play. The sight is insufferably adorable with messy hair. He wanted to touch it; to comb his fingers through it. He looked perfect and strong, without a single weakness. But then looks can be deceiving. He knew well enough that Harry had a fuck-ton more problems than him, he was just was able to deal with them better. There was natural bravery that surrounded him that made everything seem so easy. Draco admired- no, loved that.
"Did Bramble's reply come back yet?" Harry asks out of the blue near the end of 'Moonlight Sonata'. Draco is a little startled by the question. He hadn't expected Harry to move off the topic of Draco's behavior so soon. Then again, Harry wasn't much of a passive-aggressive person.
Draco was meaning to bring that up just hadn't found the right time yet. The letter was still in his pocket. He brought it out to show it to him. Or, what was left of it at least.
Harry had the same expression on his face as Draco did when he first saw it. The entire letter had been water-damaged. It was crinkled and the ink had sunk through, soaking nearly every word in an unintelligible swirl of black. Very few words were actually readable and they made no sense.
"What happened?"
"The bloody owl was what," Draco grunted. He had to use one of the school owls to send off the message seeing as his own was busy with an order. It was Harry's Christmas present. He'd seen in Diagon Alley that summer and had only remembered it recently. He hoped he would be able to gift it without being too suspicious. "The school owls are rubbish. They must have dropped it in a puddle or allowed it to be caught up in the rain."
"Aren't wizarding envelopes waterproof?"
"They are. She's is a muggle area. She wouldn't be able to get such supplies, would she?"
Harry looked back down at the letter with a frown.. "'Muggle… foreseen… unusual... rare… holidays… biscuits...' This doesn't make any sense."
Draco nodded. He'd already read over the letter multiple times and found nothing coherent enough for use. It was headache-inducing that they still hadn't discovered what in Salazar's pushed them together. Whenever he wasn't catching up on homework, worrying about his father, thinking about Harry, or dealing with Pansy and Blaise, he was chasing every crumb trail he could find about it.
"Did you, you know, write her back yet?"
"Yes. A couple days ago actually. I was trying to sort through it first but I'm utterly hopeless apparently. I hate word games."
"Funny that you seem to be filled with them, then."
"Oh shut up."
HARRY
The invisibility cloak shimmied around him as he walked down the dim corridor. The torches flickered against the stone walls completely indifferent to his mood. While they seemed somber, Harry couldn't fight the smile that was playing at his lips.
Sure, while Draco never actually told him why he was avoiding him, he hadn't been lying about not caring that Harry was into blokes. Better yet, Harry now how confirmation that his friend's conspiracy theory against the blonde was null.
He slipped the sneakoscope he brought with him out of his pocket and admired it. Had Draco been planning something or lying, the detector would have gone off. It hadn't though. And the letter Hermione had seen Draco sneak off was only for Bramble. The note didn't say much but at least there was at least something to go on now.
He wasn't going to lie that Draco refusing to tell him what was wrong didn't bother him. Harry had his own secrets involving the blonde, a godforsaken crush if he could even call it that, and he hadn't pushed him away.
He thought of the way Draco's hands drifted across the piano. He thought of how their feet pressed together naturally. The way Draco's stoic expression he'd slipped into the moment there was a spark of an argument between them and how it slipped away as he played. Harry sure as hell didn't notice stuff like this with Cedric. This entire thing felt deeper, heavier, than that.
He slipped inside the common room with ease. The room was nearly empty like usual. Sometimes there were a few stragglers when he came back who stared oddly at the seemingly empty opened entranceway. This time there were two whispering loudly by the fire when he walked in. They stopped as soon as they heard him. It took a moment for him to realize it was Ron and Hermione.
"Harry?"
Harry's eyes furrowed. He didn't know why either of them would be awake at this time. Sure, they both knew (because of Ron's loud mouth) he 'snuck out' sometimes but they never knew when or let alone when he would be back.
He carefully untangled the cloak from his body. They watched him as if he was some kind of creature they were studying that week.
"Where have you been?" Ron finally asks when the tension gets too heavy.
"A walk. I needed to clear my head before I went to sleep, you know that." Harry lies easily. It came easy after he'd lived with the Dursleys so long. The sneakoscope in his pocket gave a faint shake he hoped only he was able to notice.
"A walk? Really?" He asks. The slight venom in his voice confuses him. Hermione shot the redhead a look Harry couldn't quite decipher.
"Yes? I haven't been able to sleep properly since…" Harry trails off when he sees it sitting on one of the armchairs by the fire. He practically feels the blood drain from his face. They follow his gaze.
"I don't understand," Hermione interrupts. "You hate him."
The marauders' map is laid wide open. Harry grasps for something to say but comes up speechless. Out of all of the ways he thought they'd be found out, he never thought to consider something so insignificant such as the map to give him away. Especially not like this.
"It's not what you think," he fumbles, "It's not. Really. I know what you're thinking and he isn't-"
"A death eater? Are you out of your bloody mind?"
Harry's fist clench at his sides. He's never been at loss for words so much in his entire life. There were a million things we wanted to say a once to defend himself and yet none of them would come out.
"I-I didn't want to lie. I swear it, okay? I just knew you would react badly! I can explain!"
"React badly? Badly? His entire family is death eaters! He attacked us! You! Padfoot! They murder people! He's called Hermione racist names since the day she arrived here! How- why-"
"He's not like that!"
"Why? Because he told you? Because he's so trustful."
"You're not even letting me explain!"
"Stop it! Both of you! Sit down." Hermione cuts in. She shoots a glare at both of them. "You're going to wake everyone up."
Ron begrudgingly shuts his mouth and sits down on the couch. He glares at Harry enough to make his stomach turn.
"I think you should yet Harry explain," she says calmly. Harry doesn't mistake it as favoritism though. He knows Hermione enough to know she wasn't going to have an opinion on something unless she got the full picture.
"How are you taking his side on this? He's meeting up with him. Don't you think that's suspicious?"
"I'm not taking anyone's side. And yes, that's why I'm letting him explain first as I told you to do."
Both of their attention turns to him expectantly. He swallows the nervous lump in his throat.
"I'm not bewitched if that's what you think. You can test me if you want."
"I hadn't even thought of that. Merlin," Ron realizes. He holds his wand up to cast the revealing charm and finds nothing. The redhead grumbles something incoherent.
"I know you're concerned about me. I understand but I'm fine. I promise. Draco didn't manipulate me or anything. He's not a death eater. He's different from that sort even if he doesn't act like it." Harry didn't even know where to begin. He hadn't realized how much he'd been keeping from his to best friends until that moment.
So he starts from the moment Draco woke up in his bed at the Dursleys. He shaves off the parts with the Dursleys abuse and Draco's father to be careful. He hesitated on a lot of the parts such as Bramble and their fight at the inn because he didn't want to break the trust he'd built with Draco. Those were also the parts that made him all the more human.
Hermione's expression doesn't shift from her studious frown the entire time. She's sucking up every detail she can. Especially the parts where there were two sides of the same story. Ron goes from anger to confusion the longer he talks. He spits in questions here and there and he does his best to answer without giving to much away.
It's nearly one in the morning when he finishes. They're all still wide awake from Harry's revelation to even think about going to sleep now. He glances between his two best friends to see them both deep in thought.
"I still don't understand how. He's a prat. I've never seen him do anything other than sneer at you."
Hermione bites her lip. "...I want to believe you, but…"
"But?"
"Ron's right. Even if he was different like you keep telling us, I think it's too risky right now."
"He's not! After everything, I just told you and you still don't believe me?" He asks desperately. They avoid his eyes.
"I believe you I just don't think it's smart. Draco's cunning and you obviously know that. You have no idea what he could be planning. I know you don't want to believe it, but he could be using the situation to get close to you."
Harry shakes his head with disbelief. He knew Draco wasn't like that. They were so stuck up into bias they couldn't see the truth. A person planning his demise didn't cling to Harry and cry, let alone someone who had built his reputation on being emotionless.
Ron refuses to meet his eyes.
"You just can't see him past the picture you've painted of him in your head."
"Can you blame us? I've certainly never seen anything remotely human in him." Ron mumbles.
"Maybe it's because you never bothered to look deeper! He's complicated!"
"Please. You wouldn't have either had you not been forced to."
"I'm glad I did though, aren't I? He's been load more help than you have."
Ron crosses his arms with a huff as Harry glares at him.
"It's not like we haven't been trying, Harry. You refuse to let us. You've been so distant lately... "
"Probably because he doesn't suffocate me. Or treat me like I'm some sort of child. I don't care what you think, he's brilliant."
Hermione looks hurt by his words but Harry can't find himself to care. He pushes himself off the floor and snatches the open map. He storms back up the dormitory without looking back at the dismay on their faces.
"And don't steal my stuff again."
