Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own a microwave and a mug and a packet of hot chocolate (yummy).
Lisa:
Thank you very much for reviewing, I'm glad that you are enjoying
my story so much and the characterization of Draco and Bill. Thanks
again.
Dbi626:
I'm glad you liked the duel. I was definitely trying to show that
Draco is more than an arrogant snob, thanks for reviewing.
Mask:
lol, amazing. Love you chica.
Lyn:
Thanks so much for your reviews, I really appreciate it, and nice
catch on the reign/rein thing.
Chicklepea:
I have to wait as long as you waited? That's brilliant! The whole
notion of that is amazing. Thanks for the review, and logging in is
over rated.
Me:
Awww, I made you cry? Sorry. Well, sort of, I'm kinda proud of
myself for that as well. Thanks for the review!
Gremlin:
Yes, it is safe to say that they are both stubborn, though Bill is
stubborn because he's a Gryffindor, and Draco is just to aggravate
other people most of the time. Thanks for the review!
Rachel:
I upheld my promise. Thanks for the review too, very flattering, made
me smile
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Chapter 22
Rule number nineteen: Sometimes friendships are a good thing.
Draco sighed as he stared up at the infirmary ceiling. He was going to go insane with boredom, he just knew it. It was even worse than being stuck in the FPR meetings Wednesday nights because at least then he could doodle on paper, or at least sneak-read interesting books. Here, he was stuck with nothing.
It was Saturday night, well not exactly night, just eight o'clock, but because it was early spring, it was still dark outside, and Pomfrey had already turned in. His fever had broken that morning, which meant that for the first time since he collapsed in the Transfiguration classroom he was aware of his surroundings, or at least as aware as one can be in a dark hospital wing lit only by the moon shining through the window.
He sighed again, and shifted slightly, then froze when the infirmary doors swung silently open. A figure entered holding a wand that was lit by a 'lumos' spell and Draco squinted, wondering who it was. He mentally swore when recognition hit.
The figure walked over to his bedside and sat down in the chair beside the bed.
"Draco," Bill started.
Draco rolled over onto his stomach and turned his head away from the teacher. Bill picked up the chair, carried it over to the other side, and sat. Draco turned his head again. Bill picked up the chair and moved back.
"I can keep doing this all night," said Bill. "And I figure you're going to get tired first."
He was right, Draco knew. His fever had broken, yes, but that didn't mean he was completely recovered. He rolled over onto his back and glared at Bill, hoping that the Professor would get the hint and get this over with.
"You look like shit," said Bill, studying his face.
Draco didn't answer. He may have to listen to whatever it was Bill was going to say, but there was no way he was participating.
"I missed you in class on Thursday," said Bill. "Rather boring working on the runes all alone."
Draco still didn't answer, though the thought of never again working on the runes with Bill was actually depressing. And then he got angry for being depressed.
Bill cut to the chase. "I came here to apologize," he said.
Draco rolled his eyes, yes, he had been trying to apologize, but that didn't mean he was going to accept it.
"And," Bill continued, looking meaningfully at Draco, "I also came here to also get an apology from you."
"What?" Draco burst out before he could stop himself. He immediately clamped his mouth shut and mentally kicked himself, but Bill gave a slight smile, obviously knowing that his statement was going to elicit a reaction from the unresponsiveness.
"I said some things that I shouldn't have," said Bill, the smile slipping from his face and getting serious. "And I said some things I didn't mean and that was wrong of me. I should have never insinuated that I was going to turn you in. That was never my intention, and it still isn't. I would never do that to you Draco."
Bill's eyes were intense and Draco looked away, staring at the ceiling. Bill continued.
"I should have never mentioned your father."
Draco tensed, but either Bill didn't notice or he was too nice to call attention to it. Draco suspected the latter and it that just made him angrier. It was so much easier hating Bill when he wasn't apologizing.
"It was wrong of me to bring your family into the argument that I caused. It was not my intention- scratch that, it was my intention to make you angry, because I was angry at the time and I'm sorry for that."
Bill fell silent and Draco sneered.
"You done now?" he asked.
"Yeah, I think so," said Bill.
"Good. You can leave now."
Bill sighed. "You aren't going to make this easy on me, are you?" he asked.
"What easy on you?" asked Draco.
"I'm trying to apologize," said Bill.
"It was my impression that you just did," said Draco.
"Draco, stop it," said Bill firmly.
"Stop what?" asked Draco.
"Stop pushing me away," said Bill.
"I'm not pushing anything," said Draco, purposefully misunderstanding his statement. Bill gave a muffled sort of groan out of frustration and Draco smirked.
"Don't push me out like you have everyone else," said Bill. "I'm sorry that I made those comments and broke your trust, but sometimes even the best of friends get into fights."
"Whoever said we were friends?" asked Draco cruelly.
"We worked together, talked, shared stories and secrets," said Bill. "Hate to break it to you, but that counts as a friendship Draco."
"Don't insult me like that," said Draco. Yes, he was pushing Bill away, but that was how he wanted it, wasn't it?
Bill didn't answer, but looked down at the ground, his jaw tightening. Draco felt that bit of guilt again in the back of his mind and no matter how he tried to smother it, it wouldn't go away.
"I'm not trying to insult you, Draco," he said calmly. "Believe me that is the last thing I am trying to do."
"Your very presence is insulting," spat Draco. "Go back to your precious little family. Merlin knows how long they'll actually be alive with their injury rate." Yes, he had remembered what words pushed Bill's button, but to his surprise, Bill only sighed. He half-way wanted Bill to get mad again and start yelling at him, because then he would have an excuse not to talk to Weasley again. Right now, he was still torn between forgiving and holding a grudge, and no matter how much he told himself it was best for him if he just walked away, he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
"Alright," said Bill, taking a breath and there was a note of finality in his voice. "I'll leave then. Is that what you want?"
Draco blinked. Bill was going to leave? Just like that?
"You have to decide, Draco," said Bill. "Do you want to be friends? Because if not, I'm not going to keep trying."
Draco stared up at Bill blankly. He knew that everyone had their limits, look at the fight that he and Bill got into last week, but two days later and Bill was trying to apologize. This, however, this was permanent. He didn't know what to say, did he want a friend?
Bill gave him a sad sort of smile and then got up.
"Well, get better soon," he said, before moving towards the doors.
Draco watched him, his mind whirling. He had never consciously thought about being friends with Bill, but now that he did, he realized that yes, he had been friends with him. He had relaxed around him, told secrets, and even when he had been angry, he hadn't ratted out the teacher.
So that left him with the question did he want to stay friends with Bill? Bill the Gryffindor and Weasley, spy for the Order, and the man who knew pretty much all of his secrets. He had to admit that it was a relief not to be carrying around all of those secrets all by himself, and that talking with Bill had been the highlights of his week. However, it had hurt when Bill had said those things, but it seemed as if Bill was hurting over the words he had said to Draco as well. He seemed genuinely remorseful.
Draco's fingers sped through their pattern as he thought, and then he turned towards the door just as he reached his decision, only to see it swing shut behind the Professor.
Draco swore, clamored out of bed, and made his way swiftly for the infirmary doors, making a face at the freezing cold tile on his bare feet. He jerked the door open and caught a glimpse of the Professor turning down a hallway.
"Bill!" he whispered loudly.
Bill backtracked, his eyebrows furrowing when he spotted Draco leaning against the doorframe. Draco spoke before Bill could.
"I'm sorry, alright?" he asked, a tad bit belligerently, but it was one of the first times he had ever apologized voluntarily in his life.
"What are you doing out of bed?" asked Bill, coming up to him and frowning.
"Apologizing," said Draco exasperatedly. "That was the whole 'sorry' part or do you need me to repeat it?"
"Why the hell are you apologizing now?" asked Bill. "Go on, get back in bed before you get sick again."
"You can't get sick from exposure to colder temperatures for two minutes," said Draco, but Bill was ushering him in and not paying attention to what he was saying. He climbed back into bed, not lying down but slipping his feet under the blankets. "And you did want me to apologize."
"To apologize, yes," said Bill. "But you could have waited until morning and not tried freezing your feet off."
"Well you made it sound rather like an ultimatum," said Draco, slightly petulantly.
Bill gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he said, "I would have allowed you a few days to think it over."
"So kind of you," said Draco sarcastically and Bill chuckled.
"Thank you," he said. He gazed around the infirmary. "Just when I think I got rid of this place," he said. "Visiting Ron and Ginny, now you." He said it in such a way that Draco knew he didn't mind being back at all, and instead of being affronted by the comparison to the Weasley siblings, Draco found that he was rather pleased with the statement.
The silence they lapsed into was uncomfortable, neither of them really knowing what to say to the other. It was almost as if they had just met.
"I blame you," said Draco suddenly.
Bill looked a little startled and a little fearful that Draco was going to get angry again. "For what?" he asked.
"I think it's your fault I'm sick," clarified Draco. "Almost no Slytherins were ill, so I think I caught it from you."
"My sincerest apologies," said Bill, the laughter coming back to his eyes, and just like that, everything was back to normal.
"If you're sorry, you'll get me out tomorrow," said Draco.
"You're demanding the impossible," said Bill. "She kept me in for a week. I think you may be stuck here for a rather long time."
"I'm perfectly fine," said Draco, stifling a huge yawn that came out of no where.
"Sure you are," agreed Bill, standing up and getting ready to leave.
"Where are you going?" asked Draco, narrowing his eyes.
"Letting you get some sleep," said Bill.
"I have been sleeping," said Draco. "I'm bored of sleeping." He sounded rather childish and frowned.
"I guarantee that if you lay back and close your eyes for five minutes, you'll fall asleep no problem."
"I don't believe you," said Draco.
"Well how about you test my hypothesis and find out," said Bill.
Draco scowled.
"I'm serious, Draco," said Bill. "You look pretty bad and rest is the best thing for you right now. I'll come back and visit in the morning."
Draco flopped back onto the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut in an exaggeration of Bill's advice. "Not working," he said.
"It will," said Bill. "Good night, Draco."
He opened his eyes to see the Professor walk away.
"Night," he said, and pulled the blankets up to his waist, staring up at the ceiling. After a few moments he rolled onto his stomach and shifted a bit to get comfortable, and then fell asleep.
Rule number nineteen: Sometimes friendships are a good thing.
He was woken up by voices sometime in the morning before breakfast.
"Professor," said Pomfrey's voice. "What happened?"
"I woke up like this, that's what!"
That was Stevick's voice so Draco opened his eyes and rolled over to see what was happening. The DADA professor was covered in pink splotches and they obviously were irritating his skin because he was scratching like crazy.
"Seems to be an allergic reaction," said Pomfrey. "Have you eaten anything different or come in contact with any odd plants?"
"Not that I recall," said Stevick.
"I'll get you an anti-allergen then," said Pomfrey. She left to go rummage through her cupboards on the far side of the infirmary and Stevick's hand immediately went to scratch his left arm. His left forearm. His eyes closed in an expression of relief as his nails dug into his skin.
He stopped as soon as Pomfrey came back with a potion and drank it.
"My thanks, Poppy," he said.
"Would you like to stay here and wait until it starts to sink in?" asked Pomfrey.
"No, that's alright," said Stevick. "I really must be going."
He left the infirmary and Draco shifted onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, questions running through his mind.
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Bill left for the infirmary after breakfast the next morning, a short stack of books in his hands. He pushed the infirmary door open and stepped in, spotting Draco who was in the same bed as last night, staring up at the ceiling with a slight frown on his face. His fingers were tapping out his pattern, but slowly, deliberately.
Bill walked to his bed and sat down in the chair, but Draco gave no notice that he was aware of his presence.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Bill.
The grey eyes slid towards him briefly and then turned back to the ceiling.
"The horcrux in the school," he said. "The real one's in Dumbledore's office."
"Yes," said Bill. They had already discussed this.
"But the fake is still in the trophy room and someone tried to steal it earlier this year."
"Right," said Bill.
"Did you know that the wards around Hogwarts and the wards inside of Hogwarts are pretty much similar to each other, except one is on a greater scale?"
"The wards inside of Hogwarts?" asked Bill, not knowing what Draco was talking about.
Draco sighed, but pushed himself up a little. "Under-aged witches and wizards aren't allowed to do magic outside of school and the Ministry carefully monitors the use of such magic. However, because they don't want their alarms going off every time we learn to float a feather in Charms class, Hogwarts is warded so that the Ministry doesn't know what type of magic is going on inside of the school."
"Oh," said Bill. "That makes sense."
"There are other types of wards inside the school, like the restricted section of the library. Basically they just concentrated the wards that keep the Ministry blind around the shelves in the library they don't want kids to get at and manipulated them slightly, but that's it."
"What are you saying?" asked Bill.
Draco paused. "I don't know," he said. "Did you know that Stevick knows what a blood-ward is and how to break it?"
"No," said Bill slowly.
"When he taught us about wards Granger asked him about it and he answered. Only ward-breakers know about that sort of stuff."
"Stevick wasn't a ward-breaker," said Bill. "He was an Auror until switching to teaching, and I've seen the papers. He seems legit."
"An Auror," said Draco, leaving the question out of his voice though his eyebrow rose. "That's interesting." His eyes got a calculating look in them, a look that Bill didn't know if he was comfortable with, but Draco blinked and the look was gone.
"I brought you some books to read," said Bill, putting the volumes on the nightstand. "Something to save you from boredom."
"Thanks," said Draco, the word slipping much more easily out of his mouth than it had in the beginning of their odd friendship. Bill grinned at that; Draco frowned.
"What?" the kid asked, his eyes narrowing, as if he knew that Bill was smiling at him.
"Nothing," said Bill.
"Hello, Bill," said Madame Pomfrey coming over. "I almost didn't notice you for a moment. How are you?"
"Doing well," said Bill.
"Good." Pomfrey turned to Draco. "And how are we this morning?"
"I am doing fine," said Draco, stressing the 'I' as opposed to the collective 'we' all doctors seemed to use. "When can I leave?"
Pomfrey snorted. "I'll get you breakfast," she said, bustling off.
"I'm not hungry!" Draco called after her, but she ignored him.
Bill tried not to smile; the kid really was a piece of work. Even with the drawn face and pale countenance and the obvious illness, and he was still as bratty as ever. It was almost endearing.
Pomfrey came back with a breakfast tray and set it on Draco's lap.
"Now, it's just a light, bland breakfast so you can keep it down, but I still want you to eat it. You're far too skinny."
Draco didn't answer but he stared suspiciously at the bowl of porridge and toast, forgoing both in favor of the glass of pumpkin juice.
"I want you to eat," said Pomfrey sternly. "Bill, make sure he eats," Pomfrey ordered and then left to finish stockpiling potions.
"I'm not hungry," Draco told him flatly.
"You really do need to eat," said Bill. "You're skinnier than Harry when he visits in the summer."
Draco looked up at that little spilled bit of information. "What's that about Potter?" he asked.
"Eat your breakfast first," said Bill.
Draco scowled, obviously realizing that Bill had purposefully dropped that tidbit in order to black mail him into eating. Bill was proud of himself for that fact; it was rather Slytherin.
Draco picked up a piece of toast and bit into it. "Happy?" he asked with a slight derisive tone in his voice.
"Long as you keep eating," said Bill. "And this goes no further than you and me."
Draco rolled his eyes, but he took another bite of the bread so Bill explained.
"Harry's relatives, who he stays with for the summer, hate magic and generally have him do all their work. It's not a good environment to bring a kid up in."
He could see Draco's brows furrow slightly as he absently finished the piece of toast. "They lock him up, don't they?" he asked suddenly.
"What makes you say that?" asked Bill.
Draco shrugged. "He reacted badly to a comment I made about him being locked in a cupboard over break. Is it really a cupboard?"
"It used to be, but some Order members may have threatened the culprits, so he has a small room now. It still has locks though."
Draco fiddled with his porridge, scooping some half-heartedly up in his spoon and then letting it glop back down into the bowl. "They don't beat him, do they?" he asked quietly.
Bill felt a faint bit of alarm at the words. Draco had told him that his home life wasn't that bad, but he couldn't help but worry.
"No, they don't," he said. He noticed the slight nod of Draco's head and pushed forward. "May I ask what brought that question on?" he asked softly. "Lucius doesn't-"
"No," said Draco cutting him off. "No, he doesn't." He sighed, letting his spoon drop into the breakfast goo and turned to face him, his grey eyes serious. "Look, Bill, I realize that Lucius isn't exactly…nice and he may not be there most of the time, but he cares for me. He would never lay a hand on me, especially not after-"
Draco cut himself off abruptly, and looked back down at his bowl.
"It's okay," said Bill. "You don't have to say anything. I was just worried for you because Lucius isn't…well, you know."
Draco smirked slightly, going back to scooping up the porridge and letting it splat back in.
"You'd best worry about Narcissa then," he said, his voice in what might be taken for light banter, but because it was Draco, Bill knew that there must be some significance behind the words.
"Anyone else know about it?" he asked, wanting to know more but not wanting to push Draco into talking about it. If Draco didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to force him.
"No," said Draco. "It's really nothing more than criminal negligence. I looked it up in case I ever wanted to press charges."
"That bad?" Bill asked.
"It isn't bad," said Draco, a little bit louder. He let the spoon go again. "I'm all done with my breakfast."
And just like that, the subject was dropped. Bill looked at the tray, shaking his head.
"Eat the other piece of toast and finish your juice," he said.
"I'm not hungry," said Draco.
"Nonsense," said Bill.
"I don't feel like eating," said Draco, and his face did look a little paler as if he was nauseas.
Bill was perceptive. He noticed how Draco had eaten the piece of toast when they had been conversing about Harry, but then the subject of his family had been brought up and he had lost his appetite. He silently cursed Draco's parents for whatever it was that they had done to make him adverse to such a basic survival function like eating.
"You need to eat," he said in an authoritative tone.
Draco took a bite of the second piece of toast and seemed to gag on it for a moment, before forcing it down, looking for all the world like he was going to be ill right then.
"Did I ever tell you about my curse-breaking in the Sahara?" asked Bill, hoping to change the subject quick.
Draco shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together.
"Well, we had to port-key in, but something was wrong with the co-ordinates and so we appeared in the middle of the sand dunes. Normally it would be no problem, we would just Apparate out, but part of our group couldn't Apparate. So we had two people Apparate back to get a search party started, but because the whole damn desert looks the same and they had no clue where we were. To make matters worse, the officials couldn't use common detection spells."
"Because the sand and dry atmosphere keep reflecting magic for months after the spells are cast," said Draco, cutting in.
"Exactly," said Bill, watching as Draco managed to get a bit more toast down. "So we were stuck in the bloody desert for five days, living on lizards and a few snakes because all of the rest of our stuff was at the camp we were supposed to be at."
"What did it taste like?" asked Draco, finishing the bread.
"It wouldn't have been so bad if we had been better cooks, but most of us were young males with no knowledge of cooking whatsoever."
Draco smirked at that, drinking half of his pumpkin juice before setting it down and pushing his tray away slightly. Bill decided not to press his luck and removed the tray, placing it on an empty bed.
"Well, I should probably head out," said Bill. "But, I got you some books that should keep you entertained."
He set the stack of books on the nightstand and got up.
"You get better soon, alright?" he asked.
"Sure," said Draco.
Bill gave him a parting smile, resisting the urge to tousle Draco's hair like he did with Ron, and headed towards the door, but Draco's voice caused him to stop.
"Hey, Bill?"
Bill turned slightly to see Draco watching him with his hands twisting in the blankets.
"Just thanks," said the kid.
Bill wondered what he was referring to, but he nodded anyway. "Anytime," he said truthfully.
Draco nodded and Bill left the infirmary.
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