Chapter Nineteen: This Is Not A Free-For-All

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Close your eyes.

Picture the one person you care about more than anyone in the world.

Can you see them?

Now, imagine them cutting you open, with words, magic or, Merlin forbid for those muggles, a knife.

How would you feel?

I hated my father for what he did to me.

He gave me another scar to bare,

for fucking Malfoy pride.

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Draco had been carried into the house and laid on the couch in the living room. It was brown, with patches covering various holes, in an attempt to repair it and make it presentable. He, Draco that was, was still unconscious and Severus had knelt beside him, continuing to check his vitals and other random things. Harry could swear he was stalling.

"Hasn't he been scarred enough from you, Potter?" Snape sneered, his back to the crowd which had piled into the room, and was gaping at the sweat-shirt clad figure.

"I didn't do this," Harry instantly denied, his arms crossed, but it was almost a self-embrace, rather than a defensive gesture. "Lu-...A Death Eater did." He had recognized the voice, but something stopped him from saying it out loud.

Unfortunately, Snape tensed and Harry realized he had caught his slip.

"H-Harry," Hermione stammered, suddenly clutching his arm. "How are you not swearing and scream? It's Snape." Her voice ended almost a squeak.

Harry opened his mouth, and froze. Damn it. Could he tell them? He glanced at Snape, but he was still not looking at him. His posture blocked most people's view of his hands but Harry could see that he had picked up one of Draco's and was now holding it firmly between both of his.

"You knew too, Harry?" Arthur came to the rescue, and successfully alienated them both.

"You knew?" Almost everyone in the room bellowed, varying only in the subject of their glares, though Harry received the most.

"How could you, Harry?" Ginny demanded, at the same time that Molly screamed, "Arthur! What were you thinking?"

"Potter was sworn not to tell," Snape broke in, still not turning. Harry glanced at him, in surprise. Had he just defended him? Had the coma, artificial sleep, whatever it was, effected his brain? "Arthur is simply a fool." No. He was still the same.

"I hadn't know for long," Harry assured them quickly. "Malfoy confronted me and Snape made me swear not to tell."

"At least we can send 'em off now, right Harry?" Ron suggested, as silence stretched in the room. "You said when he woke up, they could go to Azkaban right off." He grinned, looking slightly scary.

"Yeah," Harry admitted quickly, though his heart wasn't in it. "Still, we could get information out of them first, right?"

"We-" the silky voice cut through the air sharply, and Harry met glaring black eyes. There were as cold as they had ever been at Hogwarts, perhaps more so. "-are still present, so I would remind you to hold your tongue unless you want it hexed out."

Not a smart thing to say when Aurors, Order Members and general protective members of the witch and wizard kind inhabited the room and soon Snape was on the receiving end of at least thirty wands.

"No!" Harry quickly called to stop them from firing off any hexes. "If you injure them, we're right back where we started!"

"What do you think they could tell us, Harry?" Remus demanded, a faint sneer working into his voice. He had trusted Snape, as had they all, and he had betrayed that trust quickly.

"The reason Dumbledore died."

It wasn't Harry. It wasn't even Snape, or Arthur.

Draco's eyes were opened, but didn't seem focused on any one point. Instead, they stared blankly out at the room. His head had lulled to the side, and he faced the room head on, even though his body was still sprawled on the Weasley couch.

"If you don't let...him explain...then...Dumbledore died for nothing," Draco forced out, and met Harry's eyes firmly, though they still looked blurred. Harry didn't know how much of the weakness was real or faked, but his breath caught in his throat.

"He's right," Arthur spoke now, his voice quiet. "We owe it to Albus to hear them out. To know why."

"How could you say that?" Molly shrieked, her eyes already filled with tears. Bill was holding onto her arm, to restrain her or to hold her up no one was sure. "We owe it to Albus to kill these...these murderers."

"Then how are we any better then they are? If we killed them, we become the murderers and for what? For Dumbledore? He didn't want unnecessary deaths." Everyone was staring at Harry, as his shoulders slumped. "And neither do I. They live, but they will be punished for what they did."

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Draco had hoped, for a fleeting moment when Potter had started his speech, that he and Severus would be spared but as it came to a close, Draco's eyes slipped shut. He knew it was too much to hope for. His body felt weak, and limp, like it had months - though it felt like years - ago when Potter had cast the curse on him. It was worse now, because the spell had not been completed strongly, but had teetered out at the end due to the bad wand choice.

Some of the weakness, Draco admitted to himself, was faked. They were at the end of thirty wands, if he could gain an ounce of sympathy to their plight, it was worth it.

He felt Snape's hands, which were still locked tightly around Draco's own, squeeze and his eyes opened to meet his.

Draco didn't know how Snape could stand it. Looking into Draco's eyes. Draco was sure Severus saw Lucius. Draco offered a wobbled half smile, which was hidden by Snape from everyone else.

"Find your strength," Snape mimed to him, his eyes intense as they bore into his.

Find his strength? What strength? Draco let his eyes drift shut, and he slumped across the couch, body limp. He had no strength.

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"Malfoy?" Harry said, cutting himself off from an argument with Molly and Remus, backed by most of the room members. He saw the slumping of the silent figure on the couch and his face drew into a frown. "Snape, what's wrong with him?"

Snape's eyes snapped back to meet his, and he snarled, "he has just lost blood, Potter. Even you would not be standing after loosing as much as he did." Idiot. The last word was not said, but it was surely implied.

Harry, not for the first time in recent months, wanted to throttle Snape to within an inch of his life, and perhaps keep going even then.

"Does he need a potion?" Arthur quickly entered the conversation, looking worried.

"No. He will regain the blood he needs from the spell I cast." The sentences were short, biting, and purposely terse.

"I will take him upstairs then," Arthur announced, ignoring the furious looks cast his way. "He is no fit state to leave," he addressed the room, "and it will only hinder his recovery if he stays down here, meaning he will have to stay here longer. I will lock the door after me, so if he awakes, he can't leave."

They reluctantly agreed and soon Draco was swept from the room in the redhead man's arms, and they heard him heading up the stairs, slightly slowly but the teenage boy was no lightweight, slender bones or not.

Before anyone could start firing questions at Snape, who had taken a rather regal looking position sitting on the couch, Harry quickly spoke. "I think the order members should go home. The Death Eaters won't be attacking again anytime soon, not after the fright Draco gave them."

"Harry's right," Hermione chimed in, playing along for Harry's sake. "We're not in danger anymore. They wouldn't be foolish enough to strike twice when they think Dumbledore...is...here." She seemed to force herself to say the last few words and Harry knew they had to be painful. For anyone, it was hard to think of Dumbledore being gone, let alone coming back.

Remus sighed, and motioned to Kingsley, who had taken over as intermittent leader while everything was still being sorted out, and Kingsley began to round up his Aurors, motioning to various order members to follow his lead as well.

Soon, it was the Weasley's, Arthur had even come back down stairs, Harry, Hermione, Remus and Minerva left in the room. Kingsley had been forced to shove Mad-Eye out of the room, but from the glare on his face, he would be watching them from another room with that eye of his.

Now what? Harry wondered, as the silence stretched uncomfortably.

Snape looked ridiculous. Sitting on the patchwork couch, in hand me down clothes and a sneer on his face. So out of place. Lost.

He sneered suddenly, breaking the fragile image. "This silence will get us no where. Are you not Griffendors? I would think I was in a room of Hufflepuffs with your cowardice."

The room irrupted into outrage cries and the silence was broken, but the pendulum had swung and suddenly everything was too loud. Harry was not amongst the outraged voices, and instead he watched the self-satisfied smirk work across Snape's face. He had planned it, the utter disarray, somehow.

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"Why did you do it?"

Even with all the noise, the voices, the outrage, Severus could hear Potter's voice. It was childish, seeking comfort or reassurance, or something else which Severus could not offer the boy, nor did he want to. Potter was a man now, barely in age but in spirit he had to be.

To coddle him was to assure their downfall.

"Because he asked for it," Snape announced, his voice bland and he knew how they would mistake his words.

The worried face of Potter morphed into hate quickly enough, and his voice joined the others in hurling insults towards him, though no one had raised a wand yet.

.

It all happened quickly after that, people storming out, or being led out so they didn't raise a hand and punch him in the face, of which Snape would be relieved not to happen, Harry was sure. Soon, only Harry was left, and he was breathless.

The silence stretched again.

Snape opened his mouth, an insult on the tip of his tongue.

"Don't." It was a command, or it should have been, but Harry's voice wobbled. "Just...tell me why?"

Snape tilted his jaw up, and sneered down his nose at Potter. "He asked for it."

He asked for it.

His heart thudded.

He asked.

No.

He couldn't.

No.

"He planned it," Harry whispered. Snape eyed him calmly, before nodding his head, just once. It was enough. Harry clutched the table he stood beside, without it he would have surely hit the ground. "How could he?"

"He was a selfish bastard," Snape said cruelly. "The quicker you realise that, the better for all concerned, Potter."

"How can you say that?" He bellowed.

"How can I?" Snape sneered. "How can I? We are simply pawns to him, Potter, whether you want to admit it or not. He did not care if he sacrificed himself, me or Draco. All that mattered was his plans stayed alive."

"He did what he did for us, for all of us. He died for a reason. He...he had to have."

"He died, because he was a fool. He died because Draco promised himself to something so idiotic that no mere human could possibly succeed on. Dumbledore died because he wanted to be a hero, but died a martyr instead."

"He sacrificed everything for us, he sacrificed his life!"

"He was already dying, Potter!" Snape's face was red, and his eyes narrowed. "He died because he had no choice. He would either die that night or he would waste away to nothing months from now! He did it in the most dramatic way, so that we would remember him, feel sorry and regret what happened, even though HE chose it that way."

"He was dying already?" Harry whispered quietly and Snape made an irritated noise, as if realising that it was the only thing that had sunk into his thick head. "Did I-"

"No, Potter," Snape interrupted. "The poison-" Harry didn't think to question how Snape knew that. It was Snape. He was as all knowing as Dumbledore at times. "-you poured down his throat didn't do it, but it didn't help him any." He paused, and sniffed, looking frustrated the dead man in his memories. "He foolishly placed on his finger, a known cursed object that belonged to a dark figure."

"Marvolo's Ring. The horcrux."

Shape nodded, without asking how Harry knew. "Dumbledore did many things foolishly in his life, but at least you may rest easy knowing that he had helped you in your quest. The ring is of no use to the Dark Lord now. Nor is Dumbledore to us."

"I thought...it was only his hand. He said you and he had stopped the curse!"

"He lied, Potter. Like he always did." He pushed himself to his feet, and looked down his nose at Potter. "If you'll excuse me," it was said with the utmost sarcasm, "I am going to look in on the boy who was once again scarred for your sake."

"I didn't do it this time!" Harry snarled at the retreating back of Snape, but it was too late and he had stepped into the hall. Harry heard Arthur offer to escort Snape up to see Draco and soon the voices outside faded.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice sounded small, as she and Ron entered the room.

"Are you okay, Mate?"

"Yeah," Harry tried to lie. "Just forced to swallow a few bitter truths." He firmed his shoulders and swung around to face them. "I need you guys to do me a favour."

"Anything, Mate!" Blind faith was more Ron's strong point, and he flashed Harry a grin that said it didn't matter what the favour was.

"What is it?" Hermione, on the other hand, was a little more reasonable.

"I need you to go to Hogwarts."

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It had been over an hour since a confused Minerva escorted Ron and Hermione, strangely without Harry, back to Hogwarts under protest. Harry had stayed in the kitchen, letting Molly rant to him about the evils of the two Slytherins, until he'd finally had enough.

Heading up the stairs, he ran into Fleur on her way down. Smiling prettily, she patted his cheek and announced, "'ow terrible it iz. They have separated zhose two men. Mal'foi is in his old room but Severoos, 'e was put in one of the spares. Truely 'orrible." She breezed passed him, likely to go and torment Molly a little, and Harry shot her an amused look to her fast retreating back.

Odd girl. Useful, but odd.

He took the stairs two at a time, bypassing the room which housed Snape in favour for removing the locking charm on Draco's room, and slipping inside.

The blond was on the now single bed, still ashen in colour but breathing easily. Quietly dragging a chair over to his bedside, Harry dropped into it like a dead weight, staring at the peaceful face. He sat there for god knows how long, before finally Draco spoke up. That boy could play dead for a fair while, Harry had to admit.

"Are you just going to sit there and stare or are you going to confess your heart to me while you think I can't hear you?" Draco said, sneering without even making his face twitch.

Harry scoffed, relaxing into the chair. Normalcy! Finally! "Shut up. I'm fantasizing about holding a pillow over your face and suffocating you. Such a nice fantasy."

"Kinky, Potter."

He pulled a face. "Ugh. Gross, Malfoy."

"Gross? What are you, seven?"

"You're the one making insinuations about another boy."

"I stand corrected. A seven year old homophobe."

This whole conversation had taken place with Draco's eyes still closed, and he barely moved any more than his lips as he spoke.

"God, Malfoy, you are such an ass."

It was familiar, trading insults with Malfoy, it was just the setting was new. After a few moments and more insults were traded, the closed eyes began to bother Harry and he lent forward, closer to the slumbering figure.

"Malfoy? Open your eyes."

Silence.

"Malfoy. Open your eyes."

"No."

"What? Why not? Just open your damn eyes." Harry was leaning over the bed now, staring down at him with a frown.

"If my eyes remain closed, then it is just your word against my silence that I am awake. If I am not awake, you can not send me..." off to Azkaban. Malfoy had stopped himself, but Harry knew what he had meant to say.

"Malfoy," Harry's voice was quieter, softer now. "Open your eyes."

Nothing happened, for a moment, and then for some reason, the pale eyelids flickered and Malfoy's eyes opened. A dull shade of silver greeted Harry, and before the guards could slam down and hide it from him, Harry saw real fear. A Slytherin knew when he was beaten, and both he and Snape were in checkmate.

"I said I would save you, and I still mean that," Harry told him, green eyes boring into silver. The words seemed inadequate, his voice felt too loud, so Harry did possibly the stupidest thing he could have done, and lowered his head.

Their lips were dry and the angle was awkward. Harry pushed a little too hard, more than likely bruising Draco's lips, and the figure beneath him had tensed noticeably at the gesture. It was nothing like kissing Ginny, who was soft where Draco was firm and reciprocated instantly. Draco stayed still, as if he were afraid to move, but Harry ignored that for the moment. He moved his lips gently but it was not from passion, but a type of reassurance, where words couldn't express what he was trying to say.

Just as the lips beneath him began to soften, opening under his touch, a hand reached out and shoved his face from Draco's. The pale fist shot out, hitting Harry's nose with a bruising force, causing him to stumble back, tripping over the chair and hitting the ground.

Draco's eyes were open now, but narrowed into hateful slits as he hissed, "Injured or not, Potter, if you don't get the fuck out of here now, you will be sorry."

For a moment, Harry thought of staying, trying to explain what he had just done, but he didn't know why he'd done it, so instead he got to his feet and fled.

It took him until he reached Ron's room to notice that his nose was bleeding.

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Author's Note: (Apologies for any typos.)

SLASHYAY. The boys are waking up more now, thankfully. I hope the kiss scene was somewhat believable.

Also, this is NOT a Dumbledore bashing fic, Snape is...well Snape. What did you expect? Sobbing apologies for what he'd done? Not his style.

I want to thank everyone for their reviews and alerts, it means a lot to me.

Next chapter, my favourite conversation between Snape and Draco, on the subject of homosexual normalcy!

Reviews are much appreciated,

-Liaa