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Ch 11 Veritas By Proxy

The convulsions ended before Harry's strength gave out, thankfully. Draco's body finally went completely limp. Harry was exhausted, but he felt had to get up, had to get Draco out of the bathroom. The stone floor was chilly, leeching the heat out of the bodies of both boys. Harry carefully worked his way out from underneath Draco, trying to put the blond on the ground as gently as possible. Only then could he stand up and stretch abused muscles and cramping joints. He looked down at Draco's face; the lines carved deeply from the agonized grimace only just passed.

He looks… but he couldn't find a word for the look, even in his own mind. Something was working it's way through Harry's mind, but he couldn't think about it, not yet, still not time to think of it yet, but it couldn't wait much longer.

First he had to get his friend into the other room.

Harry's body protested the movement at first, but he was determined. He got on one knee next to Draco's prone body, hooked an arm behind the blond head and got him into a sitting position. Although he had seen it in television programs and read about it in books, it was an altogether different matter to try lifting and carrying someone who was about the same size as he was. It was awkward, and he nearly fell right on top of Draco.

Frustrated, Harry sat back on his heels and looked around again. The door between rooms was closed; that would have been nearly impossible to open with full arms. He stood and went to the door, pulling it open. Immediately his eyes lit on the discarded blankets, forgotten in the indeterminate time since they'd both woken up. He snatched them up and went back to his prone companion. After laying them out, he was able to lift Draco long enough to set him back down on the blankets. He hated to drag him, but there was little choice if he wanted to get him out of here and off the floor.

A few minutes later the unconscious boy was resting on two of the largest cushions Harry could find and covered with one of the blankets. The pale skin looked dead white against the brightly colored pillows; his pulse beat visibly in his throat, but it was the steady and slow pulse of sleep.

Harry sat down to rest, finally. He leaned back against the wall in the spot Draco had claimed for himself since they'd come to this place. How long ago was that? Harry was tired in a way he hadn't been since the morning he'd returned from the fight in the Ministry. Even in this sheltered place, cut off from everything, it had seemed like one crisis after another. And this thought, this idea or image or whatever in his mind kept cropping up, demanding his attention. Without taking his eyes off the sleeping form just a couple feet in front of him, Harry finally allowed the thought he'd been dodging to speak itself in his mind.

I think I'm falling for Draco Malfoy.

There it was. The thought he hadn't allowed himself to think seriously about since he'd first discovered that there were boys who interested him more than a little. Hell, he hadn't even allowed himself to admit that he liked some boys until a few months ago. He'd told no one, not even Sirius. He wasn't sure if he would have even if he'd had the chance. The loss of that chance rolled over Harry; his godfather surely would have understood, but he'd never know for sure now.

And his friends; Ron and Hermione. Hermione wouldn't treat him any differently, but Ron… who knew how he would react? And the other Gryffindors. He could deal with everyone else treating him like a freak, an outcast. He was used to it. But that terrible time in fourth year when Ron refused to believe him, wouldn't even speak to him, that had hurt a lot.

But Harry also knew that he couldn't hide forever. Surely that was what was killing Draco; hiding himself so completely that even talking about it sent him into whatever it was that had just happened.

Ah, yes, Draco. Harry focused on him again, his eyes tracing the line of Draco's profile. He sighed. Yes, Draco was definitely attractive. The proud tilt of his head, the way his grey eyes flashed, the quick wit. Until this bizarre little adventure, the only times Harry had seen these traits was when Draco was being cruel, usually to Harry and his friends. But now, there was a difference. The pride was still there, but without the usual ring of Slytherin cronies around, the cruelty was gone.

Of course, attraction was one thing, what to do about it is another. How could he find out how Draco felt when every time they tried to talk, Draco went mental? And what was causing it, anyway? It looked like a spell, but that made it even harder to deal with unless you knew what spell it was. And what if it wasn't a spell? If it wasn't, then what could it be?

Draco had been able to talk a little, over the card game, but things had changed as soon as Harry had foolishly asked the Dementor question. That memory, Harry thought. That memory could be affecting him somehow. He remembered his own first encounters with Dementors. They gave him the first memory of his mother's voice; as she pled for mercy, begged for Harry's life to be spared. The horrible draw of that memory, the tearing need to hear their voices no matter what, tore him apart. Until he told Professor Lupin, he'd been consumed by the two desires. Once he'd spoken the words, the idea had lost a little of it's edge. What would it be like, to be completely unable to speak of it? He'd have gone mad.

But what was it that was actually stopping Draco from speaking?

Whatever it was, Harry decided, it had to end. And every time he tried to ask about it, it got worse. Maybe questions weren't the way.

"You're staring at me."

Harry yelped in surprise at Draco's voice. His eyes focused themselves on Draco who was sitting up. Then he blushed; he had been staring, but he hadn't been seeing. "I know. Sorry."

Draco blinked, then looked away. He kept his mind as blank as he could, but it was difficult. He was a little tired of waking up this way, after a mysterious blackout.

"I'm trying to think of a way to help you." Harry smiled. "Without killing you, if possible."

"Can we talk about something else? I don't want to talk about that anymore."

Harry nodded. "I can talk for a while, if you don't mind listening?" A plan, or half a plan, was forming in his mind.

Draco nodded, but he still didn't look up. He sat up a little straighter, drawing one knee up to his chest and draping his arm over it. His eyes were pointed at the stone wall just over Harry's left shoulder.

"I have this friend, named Daniel," Harry began, pulling a name from the air. "Don't worry, you wouldn't now him. Daniel has been acting strange lately, but it's not too surprising. Daniel's had a rough time of it lately. But he came to me the other day because he had something he wanted to tell me. I was a little surprised, but I said I would listen. Daniel told me that he liked boys sometimes, just as much as he liked girls." He was watching Draco carefully, and saw the heightened alertness, but that was all.

"He was very glad that I didn't get angry, or go mental. He also said that he had a crush on a boy he knew, but didn't know how to tell if it was mutual."

Draco was shaken. The 'friend' story was obviously a cover. But was it Draco who was supposed to be 'Daniel' or was it Harry? If it was supposed to be Draco, then how did Harry know? Just from the little bits of conversation they'd managed?

It's neither, Draco told himself ruthlessly. It's a different person all together, this is Daniel's story, I can think about it if it's Daniel and not me. Daniel Daniel Daniel. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, just to make sure he could. "Who does Daniel have a crush on? Maybe I know him."

Harry smiled. Draco had caught on. "You might, his name is…" Harry cast about for a name, "Andrew." He'd almost said James, but decided against it.

Draco finally looked at Harry, a bit quizzically. "Andrew?"

"Hey, this is my story," said Harry, grinning in spite of himself. "Anyway, do you know the guy?"

"I think I do. We've run into each other a couple of times," Draco said. He was beginning to get into the game a little. It offered all kinds of possibilities, and as long as he believed the lie, maybe… "Andrew is kind of distant, though, a bit of a bully."

"Oh, but Daniel thinks there's some hope. He's seen Andrew be a different person once in a while. Almost human." Harry used a joking tone.

"Anything's possible," Said Draco, voice full of irony.

"So what about Andrew?" Harry pressed. He wasn't going to let it go, especially since it seemed to be working.

"Andrew… he…" Draco swallowed hard. "He talks about Daniel sometimes." His face colored; he wasn't fooling his body, not completely. "There's a lot in the way, though."

"Well, Daniel doesn't give up very easily." The determination in Harry's voice was clear, and it reflected in the glint in his eye. Now for the tough part. "If I were Daniel, I would be able to help Andrew out, one way or another."

"If I were Andrew, I'd want to be helped," said Draco. "But it's so hard…" His breath caught and he continued, exerting everything he had to control himself. "Hard for Andrew to talk, and he says he doesn't know why." He was calm again.

"Did something happen to him?" It was tough for Harry, to figure out how hard to push. Sending Draco over the edge again would only do harm, but it had to be better to get whatever it was out in the open. If it was possible.

Draco shifted, changing to a cross-legged position on the cushion. It almost looked like a meditation pose, and maybe that helped, because he was able to keep talking. "He told me about a time, when he was fourteen…there was a portrait…" He was having trouble again, but it was different this time. This wasn't the speaking inhibition, but just the memory itself. He couldn't pretend that the memory wasn't his own.

The words had to be spoken, though. If he died for it, it had to be better than living like this. Putting the story in terms of someone else might be the only way. He dropped his head and told the story to the floor.

"He went home from school, and his father was waiting for him. It seemed his friends had been telling tales on him. Andrew said a few things without thinking, and they got back to his father. Talking about Daniel a little too much, I think. Andrew didn't even think he was saying anything wrong, just… Anyway." He took another deep breath. "In the great hall of Andrew's house, there were all of the family portraits, but there was one empty spot. I, he never thought about that empty place until his father showed him what should have gone there."

Draco looked up at Harry, who was listening intently. "They had a portrait made, that wasn't why it was missing from the great hall. He was caught having an affair with a boy at school, and to punish him, they gave him to the Dementors."

Harry sucked in a gasp. "They what?"

"The Dementors fed on him, for months, then they Kissed him." Draco dropped his head again and laughed bitterly. "They kept him in a hut on the back of the property with a Dementor, so he couldn't get away, and so no one would know about anything. My, Andrew's father said to him, 'that's what happened to the last one of those we had in this family,' and he showed him the portrait."

Harry was afraid to ask about the portrait.

Draco answered the question without it being asked. "They had the portrait done after the Kiss," Tears spilled over onto Draco's cheeks; he didn't even notice them. "Portraits are supposed to move, to be a reflection of the person. He was so still. He was alive, just…empty. Forever." Draco raised his eyes to meet Harry's horrified gaze. There was the face Harry had seen almost every day for five years now. No sign of emotion in the features, but the eyes showed something new, a desperate look of defeat.

"How can Andrew, how can I, how can I be myself if that's what will happen?"

Harry was still in shock. "That's terrible, Draco, I'm so sorry."

Draco laughed again, but his voice was hollow. "I'm used to it. I bet being Andrew would be better. Anything would be better." He said this last more to himself than to Harry.

It happened in a flash; Harry had crossed the two feet of distance that separated them and pressed his lips against Draco's. Harry's hand was on the back of Draco's neck, gently stopping him from pulling away.

The contact was electric; it shot through them both in an instant. Draco felt Harry's mouth moving against his, and he responded without thought. Without breaking the kiss, he moved so that their bodies met. The electricity seemed to increase. It seemed a lifetime before they separated.

Draco was breathing heavily and his head was swimming. He could feel the panic taking hold; he was going to lose himself again, and this wonderful, terrible moment would be gone. Desperate, he tried to tell Harry, tried to ask for help.

"Harry, I can't, I don't want to…" He couldn't finish, couldn't articulate it. He was afraid that Harry would think he meant that Draco didn't want him.

Harry understood, and nodded, but he didn't back off. "Draco would be falling over right now, or hurting himself. But Andrew and Daniel are here right now. Can you be Andrew, just for a while?" He knew this was a dangerous game to play, but the time for waiting was done.

Determination replaced the despair in Draco's eyes. Even if it was just for this one night, in this Room, he could be someone else, if it meant he could be someone else with Harry. Draco nodded, and smiled.

Draco kissed Harry then, deeply and with no fear, because it was Andrew and Daniel, but it would do for now.

X x X

There! I feel better now. Please comment (aka review) good, bad or indifferent (aka rox, sux, or meh.) If you can tell me what works for you and what doesn't, I'll appreciate the feedback. Thanks for hanging in with me and stay tuned for the next bit.