Chapter Thirty
Ron figured it out, about Alonso that is. He couldn't even wait till I got myself seated in the common room to tell me.
"He's a Quidditch Champion!"
News to me, I hadn't expected that.
"He played for the Braga Broomfleet!"
I had no idea who that was, or who they were; however you say it. Ron continued with his story.
"I knew I'd seen him somewhere before, it was in my Quidditch annual, 1995."
He remembered back to a magazine from 1995?
"He was a chaser, one of the best on the team, but he left under 'mysterious' circumstances at the end of the season that year. There was tons of speculation about why, but he never admitted to anything and just sort of dropped off the radar after that."
"And now he's appeared at Hogwarts?"
"Yeah! Wild isn't it?" Ron was almost vibrating with excitement. At that moment I felt bad for Alonso, because I couldn't imagine that Ron was going to let him remain anonymous for much longer. "He's so far from Portugal." At least now I knew where Braga was; geography really wasn't on the curriculum at Hogwarts.
"Have you told anyone else yet?" I asked hesitantly.
"Just Hermione, and Ginny, and maybe Dean heard too, and the others in the common room." Alonso was doomed; if he had intended to remain unidentified. I sighed. Not that I had any reason to worry for Alonso, but I was just in the mood to worry about other people right then; I hadn't forgotten about Draco. I wondered what he was up to, and continued to wonder about what Genevieve had been speaking to him about, and why he had asked about going away sooner. I hoped she hadn't said anything to upset him. It nearly killed me to make small talk for that hour, waiting to go out to Hagrid's. Fortunately Hermione had made plans with Ron to get him caught up in Charms; and as I was doing reasonably well in that subject she hadn't drawn me into the study session. Too bad his Charms class wasn't about past Quidditch champions.
There was something wrong with Draco. It was the only thought running through my head as I tried not to bolt down the path to Hagrid's cottage. There were other students out all over the grounds, the day being really warm for late September. I didn't want to look anxious, or obvious, especially as I had my broom in my hands, not that flying wasn't allowed, it was, but if Draco had his out, and headed the same way, well, we'd wanted to be discreet about things, and I didn't want to cause him any more distress if someone was to question either of us.
He was waiting for me, just inside the shadows of the woods that Hagrid's home stood guardian of. I'd spent a lot of time in those woods, even some with Draco, on that first detention night. If I'd known then what I knew then; I'm not sure how I write that in past, past tense, forgive me. The memories of the hatred I'd had seemed so foreign as I felt a nervous shudder cross my back on spotting him. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen, but I'd had no worries about explaining my presence to him. Hagrid had held many of my secrets before without betraying me, and with Dumbledore gone, I guess he was the closest thing I had to a father figure just then.
"Hey." I know, it's not the most original greeting, but it works for guys, trust me.
Draco forced a smile onto his face and a tiny little wave with his right hand. He had his broom in his left. I took a few more steps towards him, into the cover of the woods, and generally beyond the view of anyone on the grounds.
"Are you okay Draco?"
"You know Harry, you ask me that altogether too often." I wasn't sure how to take that; I didn't want to believe that he was actually angry with me for some reason.
"I ask you because I care about you Draco." He had no immediate answer, but his expression didn't look adversarial so I continued. "So, are you okay Draco?"
"No." His voice was suddenly quiet, and his shoulders slumped and I had to go to him. And he let me wrap him in my arms with no resistance.
"What's happened? Did Professor LaSeigne say something to you?"
"I just want to get out of here Harry. I don't want to deal with any of this anymore." I coaxed him to sitting and joined him on a convenient fallen log. I reached out for his hand, and held it tightly as he began to speak.
"She asked about my mother. Not at first, at first she just asked if I was taking her class, and what I hoped to do once I left school." It seemed she was gathering the same information from all of us, to what end I did not know then. "She seemed distressed that I had no plans, and then she asked about you."
"Me?" Now I was even more curious, and it was hard not to let my mind wander.
"She wanted to know if we were friends?"
"Why?"
"She didn't really say."
Now why on earth would it matter to her if we were friends or not? Was she looking to find out more information about me? Once I opened the floodgates it was hard not to think of the worst, but I kept it to myself.
"Then she asked about my mother."
Aw hell, now why would she do that?
"She asked after her, she said that my mother had been a good customer, and that she'd ordered many things from her shop over the years."
"Was that true?"
"It could have been, I never much kept track of Mum's shopping."
"Professor Sinistra did say that her shops had been really popular." I tried to offer some kind of neutral explanation. I don't know if he even heard me, he seemed so lost in the memory.
"She mentioned that she hadn't heard from my mother in quite awhile."
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth."
"Really?"
"Mostly. I told her that Mum had left the country. She asked me why I hadn't gone with her." A tear rolled down his cheek, "I told her I hadn't been invited. She stopped asking me questions after that and eventually just left."
"Oh Draco, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault Harry."
"I can still feel badly for you Draco."
He drew in a horrible sobbing breath; it made me want to cry for him.
"I can't fall apart again Harry." He couldn't even look me in the eye, but the clutch of his hand in mine told me everything; he was fighting so hard.
"It's just me Draco, we're alone here, I don't mind."
"But I do. I just can't lose it. Look what happened the last time."
"As I recall, it worked out pretty well."
"But it might not have. What I did, exposing myself to you like that, what if you hadn't taken it the way you did? What if you'd been repulsed by me? I would have lost the only safe place I had. I don't have anywhere else to go Harry, nothing else to live for."
A chill ran up my spine, "please don't talk like that Draco, it scares me. Nothing like that happened, it's all good, and it gave us a place to start didn't it? You have to know by now that I'm not going to run, there's nothing about you that would make me do that."
His gaze was once again off into the dying foliage around us, not focused on anything concrete but his own fears. "I wish we could just run away Harry. Somewhere where no one knew either of our names, or even gave a damn about us. But of course, that's selfish isn't it." I sat silently, just letting him talk.
"Your name is going to get you all your dreams isn't it? 'Potter', it'll get you into the Ministry, it'll get you recognition for something good and noble." I wasn't convinced of it the way he was, but I have to admit that I certainly wouldn't have minded if it did.
"My name only gets me looks of fear or hatred, it'll never get me anything positive. It's just a curse, this 'Malfoy' label."
"It won't always be that way Draco. Even after only a month back at school you've found me, and you've even begun charming Hermione."
"Witches and Wizards have long memories Harry. Hogwarts is a microcosm. What happens here is different than anywhere else in the world."
"But wouldn't you think that here would be the worst for you? After the incident with Dumbledore and all?" I really didn't want to say 'after you tried to kill the Headmaster'. But it was the truth. He had been welcomed back, and not shunned by the Professors.
"The truth will come out Draco, people will begin to see it, I know it will."
"He lived in my house Harry, that's all anyone is going to remember, Malfoy Manor, the home of the Dark Lord."
"Then sell it."
"More like burn it to the ground."
"If you like." At that he turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. I was actually kind of surprised I'd even said it. "The people of Hogsmeade burned the Shrieking Shack last summer, it made them feel better about reclaiming their home." I left it at that; I didn't want to push the arson idea too far.
"They're all wonderful words Harry, but just notions, I wish they could be true."
"Maybe they can be." I let go of his hand, hoping the pressure I'd put on it hadn't been too much; that I hadn't hurt him in my own fear of his despair. I reached out for him in a different way, brushing my fingers down the side of his face, cupping his chin gently, and drawing myself to him a little more than pulling him to me. I let my lips meet his, and pushed my tongue past lips that were at first hesitant, but quickly opened to me, just as the rest of his body did. I could feel the tense sadness across his body finally relax, and when the pressure on my lips matched what I was giving his I knew that he was going to be all right again, even if just for a little while longer right then.
"Are you scared of the woods Harry?"
"With everything I've done, everything we've seen? Not in the slightest."
"Would you come deeper with me?"
"Of course."
He was still afraid of being discovered; oh, the truth was so was I, and not because of his name. Going further into the woods, for some true privacy sounded wonderful just then, and I followed him through the growth, avoiding the well worn paths for fear of running into one of the Centaurs who still resided there, or even Hagrid, since I didn't actually know where he was. Though, with Hagrid, you always heard him coming so avoiding him wouldn't be hard.
We walked for five or ten minutes, me following Draco till he found a little clearing. I vaguely recalled seeing it before. It wasn't sunlit, the overhanging branches shaded it; though with their leaves starting to turn and drop it was more open than it would have been were it summer time. There were the normal sounds of animals, magical and non-magical stirring about in the underbrush, but very little else. He beckoned me to come sit beside him on a mossy bed of sorts, and I joined him, not quite certain what he had in mind, but body willing, whatever it was.