Cyrusys 6

Harry did not sleep that night. He had left Draco alone in the Room of Requirement after torturing him for no other reason than he could not control his own anger and rage. Harry was depressed, in a state of self-hatred, and no closer to retrieving the Horcruxes than he was a month ago.

"Shit." He sighed into the bed hangings. The wood of the bed seemed to age with him at times. When he was tired, it looked greyer. When he was angry it looked redder. Then Harry considered that his moods changed his surroundings, even if they did not really change.

---

For days, maybe weeks Draco refused to speak to Harry. Occasionally a look of the utmost distaste would slowly wedge between his eyes, but that was all.

During classes, if they were forced to interact, Draco would talk to the floor, the walls, or the ingredients on the table.

It was completely understandable for Draco to act this way. Because hurting someone, no matter what the real truth behind the action, was painful.

Harry hurt Draco, and had nothing to show for it.

---

Draco returned to his room, slammed the door for the 82nd time in a row, threw himself into his four-poster, sealed it with a silencing charm, and then had a fit of rage and a hard cry. He wanted to run to his favorite bathroom, but knew that it was too risky. He did NOT want to see Potter. He was utterly miserable. First, he needed to cry somewhere or else he would loose it somewhere in public, and then he ended up crying in his room like some 2-year old. He felt pathetic, and it was all Harry's doing. At least Myrtle would just let him cry for hours and woo over him until he finally calmed down.

'Pathetic.' Draco thought to himself, to be comforted by a ghost who was essentially killed by his master years ago in a roundabout series of events.

---

Harry was completely hopeless for weeks. He did not DARE to go to the bathroom where he and Draco met before. He didn't even leave the common room most nights. As a result his homework was much improved, but his mood, attitude and mental state were in shambles. Harry also had the nagging task of getting the correct memory from Slughorn about Riddle, in which he was also failing.

After another week he gave up his inhibitions, grabbed his cloak, which he finally reacquired ('why not use it?') and left the common room.

---

Draco was having a bout of bad luck in his attempt to find a way to get fellow Death Eaters into the castle by the end of term. He was leaving the Room of Requirement, (still never looking at it in the same light again after his encounter with Potter,) and started back to the stairs when he felt a light pressure on his shoulder.

"Wait. Please wait a moment." He heard Harry plea slowly and silently.

"No. Let go of me." Draco said coldly.

"I am begging you. Please." Harry said with a twinge of desperation in his voice.

"Why should I? Given me time to heal up so you can make me bleed more than I have, Potter?" Draco spat rather viciously for someone not being able to see whom he was talking to.

There was a very pregnant pause where Draco very successfully maintained a deathly stare with nothing to focus on.

"Will you come with me somewhere?" Harry said after a lengthy pause.

"Do you think that I am mad?"

"How can I convince you?"

"You can't. Now leave."

"No."

"You are so naive Harry. Do you not see how inconceivable your request really are?"

"I do. I want to go to the Shrieking Shack. Will you come with me?"

Draco had a nice little memory of third year when he saw Harry's head from above the cloak outside the Shrieking Shack. It caused his mood to lighten.

"If I get to use the cloak."

---

Draco had a vague memory that there was a path to the shack from school grounds, but he did not suspect the Womping Willow to be part of the equation. The school never failed to provide a new twist when he least expected it. Then again, neither did the boy in his company.

He never expected Harry to yield him the cloak and risk his neck being visible when Draco wasn't, but there it was.

They were silent on the walk down the dirty tunnel. It was long, and the suspense did not help Draco with the idea that he did not know exactly what Harry had planned in the Shrieking Shack at 1AM in the morning with him. Plus, Draco was in the dark on what exactly lay in the shack, but he refused to show any hesitation towards a place where Harry of all people did not fear.

---

They climbed up through the door and then walked up a case of very precarious stairs before Harry entered a room and settled himself on an extremely dirty sofa.

Draco looked around the room that was an absolute wreck.

There looked to have been a struggle in the room some time ago and there was something that looked to be very old and dry blood along the floor, his eyes lingered on the spot for a while after he had taken the cloak off.

"That's Snape's blood."

"What?!"

"Long story in third year involving him, Lupin, an animagus named Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black."

Draco took a moment, and decided that he did not want to know the story at the moment. "I will take your word for it."

They looked at each other for a long time.

It seemed that there was a silent exchange of apologies, insults, accusations and finally consolation.

Draco walked over and sat gracefully next to Harry on the sofa, not thinking about the dirt he just embedded onto his clothing.

Harry slowly scooted himself over to Draco and leaned his back against Draco's chest as Draco moved his body square towards Harry.

They sat like that for a long moment. It was comforting. Like finally being alone with a good book and a cup of tea in the winter.

Like stealing time that has too been long rain-checked.

Draco and Harry had both forgotten how their bodies were so similar, and as such how well they formed together as one.

"Dumbledore said something funny a while ago," Harry let out. Draco considered it an absurd tangent from appropriate conversation in this situation, but let Harry speak regardless. "He said that it was my ability to love that saved me from Voldemort."

"Okay." Draco did not know what to say to that.

"I have a question then."

"What's your question?"

"Can my love save you from Voldemort?"

Draco was dumbstruck.

Harry noticed Draco's body freeze.

"If it can, Draco, then now Voldemort can not harm you."

"What are you saying, Harry?"

There was another heavy pause, but in a very light-hearted tone Harry answered:

"I love you."

Draco recoiled instinctually from Harry. "YOU WHAT?" He shouted as he ran out of space to retreat and ended up on the dusty floor rather haphazardly.

Harry laughed softly. Draco stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you MAD, Potter? You can NOT love me!" Draco stammered with his grammar for a while before just saying it how it was: "Harry Potter can't love Draco Malfoy! Can you not imagine how fucked up that would be? Can you not see the headlines and…SHIT!" Draco Malfoy had lost all elegance in that moment.

"You Blond."

"What?"

"I love you like my Mother loved me. I am not being a homo here, I am just stating the facts."

"You love me and you say that you're not gay? You have lost your mind, Harry!"

"Nope. I love you like I love my friends. I love you like I love those who mean the most to me. So I am sorry, Draco, but yes, I love you." Harry moved himself to kneel over Draco who was still on the floor unmoved from his fall off the sofa. He slowly leaned close to Draco's face.

"However, Draco, I also really like you." Harry said with a rather wicked grin as he wrapped one hand behind Draco's head and pulled him into a kiss.

It took Draco a moment before he realized what was going on.

But somehow he knew what Harry meant; you could love someone and not like him or her, but you could love someone and like him or her at the same time. Harry felt the latter towards him. He liked and loved Draco.

Draco gave up.

Draco pulled Harry on top of him, inadvertently pinning himself to the floor, but no one was complaining.