Heyyy everyone! Here it is, chapter ten! Thank you toEVERYONE who reviewed; I love you guys! I was so happy. Haha. I'm such a loser. But anyway; guess what? This is the chapter y'all will have to live with until about Thursday or Friday! I'm doing a bit of traveling, but shall be back on one of those days. Pity, too; chapter eleven is my favourite yet. (insert angelic grin here) Yeaa it's finished.

But on to chapter ten,eh?

I Don't Want To Feel

Chapter Ten

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I let you see a side of me that I don't share with anyone.

--

Harry Potter placed his Death Eater mask on as he strolled into the room Voldemort liked to call The Throne Room. Of course, it was only called this because Voldemort liked to think of himself as a king and because at the end of the long hall, there stood a grand chair; Voldemort's throne. The wards were let down momentarily as Death Eaters apparated into the room, taking their positions in front of the chair and talking amongst themselves. Harry stood by himself in the corner and waited for the arrival of his Lord. Only select and highly trusted Death Eaters knew who he really was.

Voldemort appeared on his throne then, and all the Death Eaters bowed. He scanned the room and spotted Harry still standing in the corner and smiled. "Come here." Voldemort spoke, gesturing for Harry to come and stand next to him. As Harry slowly weaved his way through the bowing Death Eaters, Voldemort told them all to rise. "My friends," he began, casting an eerie smile at Harry as he reached his side, "welcome back. It has been a while since we've all joined together." He paused here to snap his fingers, with which a chair, a smaller version of his, appeared at his right. He gestured for Harry to sit down. There was murmuring from the crowd of Death Eaters. "You must all be wondering who the man next to me is. Some of you already know, some of you don't; and it shall be kept that way. All you need to know about this man is that he is our key to the Wizarding World and will be your leader in the attack on Hogwarts."

Harry turned his head sharply in Voldemort's direction as the murmuring from the 'crowd' became louder. Before anything else could be said, there was a popping sound near the back of the room as another Death Eater appeared.

"Ahh Severus; how nice of you to join us." Voldemort's voice thundered over the talking in the crowd, and Harry tensed. This was the first meeting both he and his Potions professor had attended together. Snape dropped to his knees and began to explain what had held him back. Voldemort just waved his hand in dismissal.

Nothing more about the attack on Hogwarts was discussed after that.

Harry fell onto the wooden chair, sighing loudly. Draco appeared from the darkness of the cell, leaning against the bars and grinning. "Stressed?"

"Yes! Not that you would understand!" Harry snapped, glaring at the blonde grinning at him. Draco glared at him and Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry." He whispered, looking down at the ground. Draco's eyes softened at that, and he cleared his throat.

"What's going on?" Draco questioned, staring at Harry's slumped form. "Harry?"

Harry jumped at the sound of his name and his surprised eyes met grey. Draco only smiled lightly.

"Well...apparently I've become Voldemort's right hand and shall be leading the attack on Hogwarts." Harry muttered, running his hand through his hair. Draco's smile faltered.

"And that bothers you?"

"No--yes--maybe. I don't know." Harry said quickly, slumping even farther down on his chair. "It shouldn't."

"Yeah...it shouldn't." Draco whispered, sitting down on the ground. "But it does, doesn't it?"

Harry looked away.

"Maybe a bit?" He replied uncertainly, and sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "It's just--that place used to be what I considered home. And now I have to destroy it."

"It's tough deciding what means more to you in life." Draco replied simply, and Harry looked up to meet his eyes.

"Yes." Harry whispered, and was thrown out of his thoughts when Draco smiled.

That smile.

"And go on! You considered Hogwarts to be your home? What about your mansions and all your money, eh?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"What mansions? Oh, you mean my cupboard under the stairs?"

"What!" Draco exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"What stories have you heard? That I was a pampered and spoiled brat? That the muggles worshipped the ground I walked on? Well, whoever told you those stories is two things; delusional and perhaps jealous."

"Right in one; my father told me."

"Of course. Beloved Lucius; we're great friends, you know?" Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure." Draco grinned, and then furrowed his brow. "So if you weren't pampered--"

"What was my childhood like? Torture. I lived in a cupboard under the stairs for 10 years, I was barely given any food, I had to do their housework and gardening, I was called a freak and I was beaten by my uncle." Harry paused, "I've never really told anyone all of that; and I don't know why I'm telling you."

"Because I'm in prison and won't be able to pass this juicy story on to anyone else?"

"Yeah, that's about it."

"Or because I'm the only person you can really trust?" Draco continued, his voice softer.

His eyes still locked on Draco's but he said nothing in reply. "So, tell me about your childhood, Malfoy! You were a pampered spoiled brat, weren't you?"

"Well of course I was, I'm a Malfoy."

"Yeah, I expected as much."

"Yes, well, that's what everyone expects. But you're all wrong."

All Harry could do was raise his eyebrow.

"Ever since I was able to walk, talk and read, I was expected to be the perfect Malfoy heir. I began my learning and training of the Dark Arts when I was seven years old."

"What!"

"Oh yea, Lucius wanted me to be as powerful as him; wanted me to be the Dark Lord's next right hand." Draco paused, and let out a small chuckle. "But I guess that position is already taken, isn't it?" Harry slumped. "Oh well. I never wanted to join him anyway." He paused again and just looked at Harry, deep in thought. "Well, maybe there was one time when I did."

"When?"

"When you denied my hand and chose the Weasel over me." Draco muttered, looking away. Harry sat up slightly at that confession and frowned. "I was so angry that someone, especially you, had denied to be my friend."

"Weren't you told by your father to befriend me?"

"Initially, yes. But after I saw you on the train, I wanted you to be my friend. My real friend."

"Malfoy, I--"

"And after that, I hated it when you called me Malfoy. Because it constantly reminded me of two things; you denying my hand and who I was supposed to be."

There was a deafening silence after that, and Harry moved to sit on the floor. He sat cross-legged about two meters from the cell bars.

"Well, I guess we're even now. You told me something no one else knew, and I told you something no one else knew." Draco spoke up, breaking the silence. Harry smiled slightly.

"I guess so...Draco."

They smiled at each other.

"So is your favourite colour scarlet or gold?" Draco asked jokingly and Harry snorted.

"Neither." He replied, "I like green."

"Oh NO! Don't let the other Gryffindorks hear that! They might think you're turning against them!" Draco exclaimed mockingly, gasping. "So, what's your deal having a Slytherin colour as your favourite colour, eh?

"What, you don't own the colour green!"

"We, in fact, do."

"Fine then. Well, it's doesn't matter; I'm an honourary Slytherin."

"You know, just because you're a Death Eater does not mean you're a Slytherin." Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know that, idiot. What I meant was that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I refused."

"WHAT! Harry Potter--a Slytherin?"

"Don't look too surprised." Harry laughed.

"Well, yes, I shouldn't." Draco muttered, looking Harry up and down. Harry frowned, but didn't say anything. "Why did you refuse?"

"Because I met you."

"Yes, I expected that. I was eleven, Harry!"

"Yeah, well, so was I."

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a sound of footsteps making their way down the stairs and Harry frantically got up off the floor and sat down on the chair, staring at the ceiling. The footsteps reached the last few steps and stopped on the dungeon floor as Harry looked down to find Lucius Malfoy standing before him, sneering.

"Lucius! How excellent to see you!" Harry exclaimed sarcastically, and Lucius forced a smile.

"Pleasure, as always, Harry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Paying my son a visit of course. I can't leave the house without giving my son a present--that would be wrong."

"And what kind of present do you plan on giving, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked innocently. "I have to check it before it is given."

"Do you."

"Yes." Harry glared.

"Mr. Potter, may I have a moment alone with my son?"

"No."

"Mr. Potter--"

"No."

"He is my son!"

"Is he? I don't see you trying to get him out of here."

"That is none of your business!"

"Is it not? He is my prisoner; and no, you may not have alone time with him."

"Our Master will hear about this, Potter!"

"Will he?"

"YES! You have no right to--"

"Well then I guess he'll be hearing how you threw me against the wall and tortured me; over and over again as I screamed for you to stop, that you couldn't do this because I had given you the right to be alone with your son. But no, you hate me so much, and I--"

"Preposterous!"

"Is it?" Harry hissed, making his way closer to Lucius. "Who do you think he would believe more? A man that left him all alone for twelve years, or me?"

Lucius opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better and spun on his heel and disappeared up the stairs. From inside, Draco let out a low whistle.

"Hey Harry...thanks for yesterday."

"For what?"

"With Lucius and all."

"Oh. There's nothing to thank me for."

"You got rid of him; he was going to hurt me again."

Silence.

"I know." Harry paused, and they sat in silence for a while. "How in the world did you last 16 years with that man?"

Draco smiled. "Skill."

"I still don't understand how he can just waltz down here and throw curses at you."

"Well, he can't exactly come down here and break me out. He wouldn't want to anyway; he would be killed--and nobody, especially him, would ever die for me. Besides, it's just the way Death Eaters can 'waltz' out there and kill innocent people. He hates me enough to do it."

"That's different! You're his son."

"I was his son. He no longer wants anything to do with me; especially after what you said to him yesterday, I won't ever see him again. The only time I've seen him was when he came to torture me; and it's been the most I've been him in years."

"That's not true."

"It really is. The only thing he ever talked to me about was Dark Arts and following Voldemort. If it wasn't that, it was beat Harry Potter. Beat Hermione Granger. The only two people who stood in my way from the two things he wanted from me. You see...all my life, everything that has been said to me was negative. 'You are not worthy of the Malfoy name, your clothes are messy, fix your hair, you have no manners, you are only worthy of muggle blood--you are no Pureblood, you're stupid, you're a failure, you're worthless'...for once in my life I just want someone to tell me that for even one second, I actually mattered."

Harry was speechless.

"Didn't think I had it in me, did you, Potter?"

"Had what?"

"Emotions, of course. Feelings."

Harry smiled. "I knew they had to be there somewhere, Malfoy."

"It's weird, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That all it took to make us talk civilly was you to become a Death Eater and me to be your prisoner." Draco and Harry chuckled, both shaking their heads. "Who would have known."

"Yeah..." Harry whispered, staring at Draco, a small smile creeping up on his face. "Who would have known."

Aww yes. Bonding moments. So nice and fluffy, eh? Well, kinda.

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