Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and the basis for this story is an old myth/ghost story and I don't own that either.
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Chapter 2
The next morning bloomed bright and loud. Ron's thundering snores were matched with Hermione's gentler version, the two having been given permission to share a bed after they announced their engagement, and they both looked so tired that Harry abandoned his usual response, a sharp pillow to the face. The Weasley family was one of the lightest hit, only one dead and minor injuries to the rest, but still they all seemed the less for it. Harry supposed that was what losing family was like and was absently thankful it had happened for him when he was too young to understand it.
His robes were wrinkled, the natural consequence of being slept in, but he didn't care. He ran his hand through his hair, loosening the most obvious snarls, and made his way down to the Great Hall.
It had only been a few days since the end of the war and there seemed to be a lull in the celebrations. The immediate relief that it was over had faded into shock that it really was over.
Harry expected another round of parties and ceremonies any day. He could feel it building in the air like a storm.
He'd made his way through the first few events by the skin of his teeth, and with a great deal of alcohol for lubrication. Soon he would decide where he was going to live, and then he would disappear. They could give his accolades to him by proxy, Harry knew several people who would be more than willing to stand on a stage and accept someone else's applause.
And one of them joined him at the table.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
Harry had seen Draco wandering the castle over the past few days, just another pale and bloodless ghost, except this one was alive. The Malfoy family escaped the first wave of vengeance trials, but it was only a matter of time before the rough justice of the Wizarding World hit them. Lucius had taken his chance and run, no one knew where he had gone.
Narcissa decided to plead her case and she made her way through London , wizarding and muggle, fighting for support, for help. She had a chance, too. She was Dark by blood and marriage, but a Death Eater only in name.
This left their son behind, to stalk the hallways of Hogwarts, avoiding any direct gaze and all confrontation.
After their simple greeting, affectionate and loving in comparison to their childish behavior of years past, the two sat in silence, eating more out of obligation and routine than any kind of desire for the food that spread so lavishly across the shining wooden tables.
Harry heard a low sobbing sound, and smirked. Turning to Draco, he said, "What's the matter Malfoy? Crying?"
The blond Slytherin looked at him with dry eyes and said, "Hardly Potter," then turned back to his meal.
The sound came again. Other than Draco, the Great Hall was deserted. Harry got up, looked around the tables, then under them, and finally found the source of the noise tucked in a corner and wrapped in one of the thick velvet curtains. It was a small black puppy.
"What are you doing here?"
The pup whined again, and then growled as Harry reached tentative fingers towards it.
"All right. I understand. I feel the same way most days. Still, you must be hungry," taking his eyes off the dog, Harry turned towards the table where he saw Draco trying not to look over, "Malfoy, can you bring over some sausages or something?"
For a moment Harry was sure the Slytherin would refuse as the blond looked from the steaming sausages to Harry and the dog, and back again. Finally, he gave a visible sigh and began gathering the meat into a napkin.
Harry turned back to the puppy, hoping he could hold it in place with his gaze. He heard Draco walk towards him, his steps were silent, but his robes sent out a gentle –hush, hush- as he moved.
The spicy smell of the napkin-wrapped bundle met Harry's nose seconds before it was thrust before him with a desultory, "Here."
Harry took the sausages and untied them as quickly as he could, the puppy's eyes pinned on him, on his hands. He could feel Draco's gaze on the back of his neck.
Awkwardly fumbling free the food Harry set it on the floor, halfway between the dog and himself and sat on the dusty stones, hoping the pup would see it as a non-threatening gesture and come further out from the thick fabric of the curtains.
The dog moved forward, it's eyes on Harry as it's nose led him to the sausages, only a little the worse for wear. As the sunlight hit its coat, Harry heard Draco gasp behind him. If he weren't so numb, Harry might have gasped as well.
The dog was injured. The ragged bright pink lips of the wound in its side glistened in the gentle light, and a dark pool of old blood matted down the coat. There was no pus or infection that
Harry could see, but if he looked closely, which his stomach was adamantly telling him not to do, he could see the faint white glimmer of bones, ribs, behind the meat.
"Merlin." The soft oath came from behind him, and Harry turned to see Malfoy clutching his stomach with one arm, his free hand pressed to his face.
"You all right?"
Face frozen between shock and nausea, the Slytherin nodded, slowly relaxing his arms and walking forwards until he was right next to Harry.
"He needs help."
Harry nodded in agreement, watching the dog track his movement, still ferociously chewing. He reached out again, but again the dog growled at him, this time around a muzzle full of food.
"He won't come, he doesn't trust you."
Without looking away from the dog, Harry replied, "What the hell would you know?"
"Animals like me," Draco replied, gingerly crouching down on the floor.
Harry snorted softly. "I'm sort of torn."
At Draco's questioning look, he went on, "Well, I mean, I find it hard to believe that anything likes you. Then again, since no person likes you it only makes sense that animals would."
"You are a bastard and an idiot Potter," Draco replied, then turned towards the dog.
Moving slowly, the Slytherin sat on the floor and slid a few inches closer to the dog than Harry was. After a few minutes, he moved again, then again until he was almost within touching distance to the dog, but he made no other move.
Both Harry and the dog had watched this progression carefully, but when Draco did nothing else, the dog relaxed and went back to its food.
Slowly Draco set one hand on the floor close to the dog, moving it so achingly slowly Harry wanted to scream, until the pale fingers were resting where the thin black tail waved gently.
The first time the dark fur passed over the extended digits, the dog froze. But when nothing happened, it went on eating.
Again, Draco began moving his hand around the dog, keeping it within a few inches of the black-furred body at all times, he waited until the animal was done eating, and then put his hand in front of the creature.
The dog sniffed the pale fingers and licked them lightly.
"You know it's just because you smell like food, right Malfoy?"
Draco smiled, "I'll settle for cupboard love, Potter. It's the most loyal kind there is."
The dog seemed to agree, as it gingerly moved its black head under Malfoy's twitching fingers, allowing the Slytherin to scratch its crooked ears.
Harry watched the dog relax into the caress, eventually falling asleep. A few students and professors had come and gone from the Great Hall in the time it took for Malfoy to tame the dog.
Harry hated the new sense of awe the Wizarding World had for him, but it worked to his benefit now as everyone left him alone in the darkened corner with Malfoy and the dog.
"We have to get him some help," Malfoy's voice was quiet, as he gingerly lifted the dog and began to stand awkwardly.
Harry reached for him, whether to help him up or take the dog, even Harry wasn't sure and he let his hands fall back to his sides, "Where will you take him?"
"No one here really knows how to take care of animals, but I thought Pom might have some ideas, so I'm bringing him to her. He seems healthy enough, for all he's injured and I think she might enjoy having a patient who seems likely to pull through."
Harry listened, his mouth dropping open. Was that a joke? Was Draco serious? Just to be on the safe side, Harry followed him to the infirmary, while Draco held the dog cradled in his arms like a baby.
When they got there Harry was struck by how quiet it was. His first visit, hours after the final fight, had been dizzying, people rushing back and forth screaming and begging for help, for hope, for death.
Now the beds were filled with those who could still be healed, and those who couldn't were gone, either already dead or trying to rebuild their lives.
Pom came out of her office in a soft scented cloud of talcum powder and medicinal brandy; the last few days had been difficult for her as well.
"What's this boys?"
Draco held the dog tighter for a moment as the matron reached out thick arms for it, then set it on the corner of her bare desk.
Harry took in the Slytherin's stiff-backed silence and answered for him, "It's a dog, ma'am." At her glare, he went on, "I—We found him in the Great Hall. It looks a though he was attacked or something and we were hoping you could heal him."
Pomphrey nodded sharply and began to examine the dog, clucking her tongue at his dirt, matted fur and the blood soaked into it.
"Well," she said, wrapping a length of white bandage around his middle, "it looks as though something attacked him. I can't say exactly what, but it was big and had very sharp teeth. It looks like he dragged himself through brambles on his way to the castle, he's that covered in scratches. Still, there's no infection and he seems healthy enough in general, just a little underweight. Feed him well, tend him well, and bring him to me in two weeks. He should be fine."
Harry breathed a sigh if relief and heard Draco next to him so the same. Pom lifted the dog and held him out, both Harry and Draco raised their arms to take him.
Pom set the dog in Harry's arms, where it grumbled a bit before settling into his embrace.
Harry saw Draco's arms tremble, then fall, as the Slytherin boy turned away. Without thinking, Harry grabbed the sleeve of his robe with his free hand, stopping him mid-step. "Wait."
Draco turned back to him, saying nothing, but with a questioning light in his eyes.
Harry cleared his throat and released the robe, letting his hand fall away from the soft fabric,
"That is… you were great, getting him to trust you. I mean, you can take care of him, if you want."
Draco smiled a little, and reached out for the dog. As he did, the faded sleeve of his robe slipped back, exposing dark grey inky lines on his white skin. His arms dropped and he closed his eyes for a second, then turned and walked out of the infirmary, hands clenched into fists at his side.
Harry turned to Pomphrey, but she said nothing, so Harry readjusted his hold on the dog and left, following Draco.
Pale and silent, Draco traveled down the halls. No one acknowledged him, but they all moved out of his way, seeming to shrink back from contact with even the flaring edges of his robe.
Harry followed behind with the dog, now drowsing, in his arms.
Eventually Draco stopped in front of a worn tapestry depicting a forest scene. He muttered something Harry could not quite hear and stepped forwards, through the gap between two trees.
Harry got there just as the opening closed up and all his outstretched fingers felt was the thick woven material. The dog in his arms looked at the tapestry, then up at Harry, whuffling slightly.
Harry smiled at the brush of warm air and looked down at the dog, "Well, I guess it's just you and me now."
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Note: For the record I know bupkes about dogs or how to deal with them. If I see a strange injured dog I am calling a vet or a pet emergency center. I learn pretty fast and one rabies scare was enough for me. (For the record I was eight. I'm pretty sure it was just a tetanus shot and my mom was trying to frighten me into leaving strange dogs alone. [Full disclosure- it totally worked.])
I did my bit and posted my chapter. Now you guys need to do your part and review. I don't make money off of these stories but they do feed my ego. I want to get it big enough to take over the world.