Chapter Seven:

Not What You Think

A/N: Please review and enjoy!

Not What You Think - Pretty Maids

Cover me/Protect me from myself

From my private hell/From depravation

The mirror speaks/But the reflections lie,

I see a different I/My condemnation

Oh here it comes again

I'm not what you think I am

I'm mentally subsidin'/I'm loosing it I'm sidin'

I'm not what you think I am

My common sense is broken/Slowly decomposing

*

Draco woke up gasping loudly. Had he honestly just dreamt that? He recalled the sceneries; the Riddle graveyard with Cedric Diggory dying, the Department of Mysteries with Sirius Black falling into the veil, the Final Battlefield outside of the Ministry for Magic as Harry watched many faceless men and women fall. The pain of the Cruiciatus curse, the Killing Curse bouncing off of him through a shield, the feeling of being utterly alone. The last thing he heard in his nightmare, was the high-pitched scream of an unfamiliar, female voice.

Draco collected himself, it was all too much to take in at once. He got slowly ready for classes, he was the first one awake this time. Once he was finished, he waited in the Common Room for his 'friends' to join him for breakfast. He had his books, this surprised the happy couple as they came downstairs over thirty minutes later.

Breakfast went slowly, but he was relieved when he caught the sight of unmistakable platinum blonde hair from across the Great Hall. Harry wasn't a good sight for sores eyes, or Draco, rather. He looked worn thin, exhausted to the bone. Draco sighed, he answered his questions whether or not Harry was getting the blonde's own nightmares too. 'Great, I am officially fuc-'

"Pucker up, mate!" Ron smacked him hard on the back, Draco coughed out his pumpkin juice. "Time for classes," he said with a wink, Hermione giggled over to him and Draco rolled his eyes when they both started to walk away and he reluctantly followed.

Draco ended up trailing after them the entire day, going from class-to-class with one or the other, sometimes both of them. He kept mostly to himself, and this didn't seem to make a difference to anybody. He had two classes with Harry that day, he observed his own body carefully and found that the brunette was doing a good job of carrying around like him.

It was late Monday evening, a little past curfew, when Draco found himself in the Gryffindor Common Room attempting to finish his Dark Arts assignment. Or Harry's Dark Arts assignment. Samething, he would've had to do it anyway. The entire class, Professor Lupin had looked his way every minute he was pretty sure.

Eventually it got irritating enough that he turned to Ron to ask him what the hell was up with Remus. "You're asking me why he always looks at you?" the redhead had responded incredulously, under his breath of course even though Draco was sure the Professor could hear them anyway.

"Yeah, it's...making me nervous," it was the understatement of the year. It was straight up creeping him out.

"For the past three years he's been doing that and you've just noticed now? Honestly, mate, are you sure you're supposed to be in Advanced Dark Arts?" Ron chortled, he shook his head and returned to his notes as the Professor shot a look their way, pausing his lecture for a brief moment.

And now as Draco sat in the Common Room admist his, Harry's, homework, he sighed. 'What the hell is the relationship between Lupin and Potter?'

"Heya Harry," a sickeningly soft voice sounded, it was feminine and alluring to somebody who might have been interested. Draco was the exact opposite of somebody who would be interested.

"Er, hi Wea-Ginny," Draco corrected himself and forced a gentle smile on his features, but it came out that way exactly. The Weaselette frowned and sat down beside him, she immedaitely reached forward and placed her hand on his knee. Now the Slytherin didn't know what to do; what was Harry's relationship with the littlest Weasley? Were they an item? How should he react to this small gesture, would Harry flinch?

"How have you been feeling lately?"

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously, pretending to be more absorbed in his homework than her. 'Whatever their relationship, I am sure as hell not going to participate in it for him,' Draco thought to himself and metaphorically raised his now high in the air.

Ginny paused for a moment, she squeezed his leg and removed her hand regretably and looked down at his work before back at him with a sad smile. "One day you're happy, the next you wanna kill the world, and then...you'r dead..." she whispered, her eyes widened slightly before focusing back on the boy before her. Draco had paused at her last two words, but quickly reassumed triffling through pieces of parchment with scratchy handwriting on them. "It's a little unnerving. I care about you so much, Harry, I just want you to be happy again," her hand was back on his knee, Draco almost growl but sucked in a large breath instead.

Ginny was trying her best to smile with hope, but when Draco turned his head to her and those emerald eyes were completely guarded, she let out one small sob and moved her hand up higher. "Please," she begged in a mere whisper again. Her hand was suddenly traveling to places Draco Malfoy did not want to be touched. He shivered against the touch, and his stomach churned. If Harry didn't have control over his body at that moment, he would've lost it and given the Weaselette something to chew on.

"I'm doing homework," Harry's voice came out in a whisper, Draco nearly scoffed at how fragile this boy's natural voice sounded.

"Harry, I need you. I can tell you need me too," and suddenly there was Ginny Weasley, unknowing kissing Draco hard on the lips. He was paused to a halt, his hand was clutching his quill tightly and his eyes were widened with shock. Draco's natural disgust for any Weasley, or girl for that matter, suddenly came into the foreground. He pushed Ginny away with one smooth gesture, he winced lightly at the pain this caused to his healing bones and bruises.

"Never. Do. That. Again," Draco growled, he then turned back to his homework as Ginny stared at him hurtfully. As the Slytherin expected, she sobbed and ran off up to the Girls Dormitory to talk to Parvarti, Lavender and Hermione - that was Draco's educated guess anyway.

Sighing with relief, he returned to the homework. Only two inches left, he was merely summarizing his notes on the Dreamless Sleep Drought. They would be attempting to brew this NEWT level potion at the beginning of next week, this made Draco rather anxious until he realized that he wouldn't get any marks for his Potion, he'd be getting them for Harry. 'Ah well, still worth giving Granger a run for her money...and Snape too...' Draco laughed darkly at this. He loved Potions, always had and always would. He was becoming quite the master at the subject, perfecting his technique over the past couple of years. He was even beginning to do experimentations on his own in his Potions Lab at home.

Just as he was rolling up the assignment, sneering at the illegibility of Potter's chicken-scratch handwriting, a very angry Ron and concerned Hermione came barrolling down the stairs. Draco turned to meet them with a blank expression, it was hard not to raise his eyebrow in mock.

They looked at each other, having a silent conversation before back at 'Harry'. "What did you do to my sister?" Ron finally asked heatedly.

"Nothing," Draco shrugged lightly.

"That's a lie, what did you do to her?! She's bloody crying all over the place!" the redhead was flushing now, approaching with clench fists but thankfully Granger stepped in the way to avoid Draco from exploding, as well.

"Now Ronald, maybe we should let him talk first..." she said softly, Ron grumbled and then beacme quiet. They looked onto Draco urgingly.

"She was bleeding kissing me! I don't want her to kiss me!" He had started off a little too loudly, Draco slowly brought Harry's voice to a whisper. Ron looked even more furious with this answer so he continued. "Listen, it's not like that. Ginny's...awesome and all...but I just don't want that kinda thing with her. She can't just go around making out with random guys now can she? That's not very respectful," he said pointedly and then stood up from his seat, stretching his hands over his head revealing his abdomen. This made Hermione catch something with her eye.

"Harry, your eyes are really dark," she muttered slowly, looking over her friend continuously. Draco shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze.

"Er, I'm tired. It is past curfew, you do know," Draco attempted not to sound degrading to them, it was a hard habit to break.

"No, I mean...it looks like you haven't slept in months," she approached him slowly, Ron was less infuriated now and more concerned, following his girlfriend's observations.

"I-uh-" 'Oh, shit. The Glamours must be slipping,' Draco cursed to himself, he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't. Although he now had a theory as to where all these pains came from, there was no way he could distrust Harry by telling the rest of the Golden Trio his secrets.

"And there, you've got something dark there too!" Ron yelped, pointing at his wrist. Hermione followed him, it was true. There was a ring of darkness around Harry's wrist, they observed it and came closer. Draco swallowed, he looked scathingly around the room.

"I'm going to bed," he whispered and then fled away, he heard the two call after him and even Ron bounding up the stairs. Hermione couldn't enter the Boys Dormitory, she merely stood on the staircase as Draco rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. He stripped off his clothing and looked incredulously at the bruises on his skin. 'Goddammit Potter, you make everything so difficult,' he cursed, and replaced his Glamours quickly. Just as he was finished, Ron was knocking loudly at the door.

Draco sighed and went to answer it. "May I help you?" he drawled, rather uncharacteristically for Harry, as Ron raised his eyebrows considerably and his mouth was hanging open like a fish.

Draco walked over to 'his' bed and got comfortable beneath the sheets. "You, what were those things?"

"What things?"

"Those dark things...they're gone now..."

"Ron...I'm really tired, please," Draco made an attempt to sound depressed. It worked, Ron frowned and looked at him once more.

"Fine. I'm going to give Ginevra a talking to. I'll see you tomorrow morning," just before he left he turned and faked a smile. "Get rested up, mate," and Draco was left to the three other snoring boys.

It wasn't long before he was thrown into the loop of nightmares again. This time, they changed rapidly. From memories with Voldemort to Muggle school and then to pointless Hogwarts memories. Then came a dream, and not a nightmare. For the first time since being in the brunette's body, Draco dreamt.

He dreamt of a big black dog at first, it seemed vicious but then it suddenly transformed into a human. It all seemed so real. They were at a House, a rubbish looking one filled with Weasley's and other bustling people. And then, he was laughing with this transformed dog. They were entangled in each other in what looked like to be a drawing room. They giggled, joked, talked, it seemed like nothing but it was everything. As he slept, Draco felt an overwhelming feeling of calm, happy warmth. Then he recognized that face. It was the face of Sirius Black.

*

Save me from/The suicidal threat

The gun against my head/The voices calling me

What am I gonna do to stop myself/from sinking

How am I gonna chase away the/thoughts I'm thinking

How am I gonna stop my Deathwatch ticking/Someone kill the pain

Take it away.

*

At first, it was nerve-wrecking. Now it was all fun and games. Harry felt all of his responsibilities slide off his back during the first week of being in Draco's body. He needn't worry about anything, save the odd interaction where he needed to firmly respond as Draco must respond. It was a lot simpler than he thought it would be.

During classes he'd do his work, if he was at the back of the room he'd very closely observe his own body. Draco was doing a good job acting like himself as well. Otherwise he could pretty much do whatever he wanted to and nobody questioned it. Harry got used to his 'alone time', and this seemed to be of the norm in Slytherin. There were groups of people, and small ones would actually trail after him like lost puppies to and from classes. Harry found this rather amusing, just by walking he had followers. How pathetic, and what had Draco done to deserve this groveling?

Of course, nobody in Slytherin was nice to anybody in Slytherin - or anybody in general, for that matter. They were just plain old nasty human beings who didn't care about anything except for their own advances, even if that meant sacrificing each other. This behaviour became a part of Harry's daily life for the past week, he lived and breathed it. He used the power the people gave to him, unlike what he would have done in his own body.

During his free time, away from being hassled constantly by concerned friends, mentors and the undying Press, Harry would finish up his homework quickly and think a lot. This gave him more time to revert to his summer memories, but that also gave him more time to cope with them. He finally had the rest he needed, and seven days in he was already feeling 110% better. Gods, he would have to remember to thank Malfoy, and he didn't even feel strange thinking those thoughts. He really did have to thank Malfoy, this entire situation had worked out perfectly for him.

Harry was exuberantly glad to have his constant physical pain gone, but he felt absolutely torn that Draco had to experience those instead. His reciprocation was having Draco's nightmares. They were just as bad, if not worse, than his own. Almost every night during sleep, Draco's body was whipped by his own Father to be 'taught' another lesson. Last night had been the worst, so that's when Harry finally decided upon taking Dreamless Sleep from thereonin. He couldn't handle it anymore.

It started out with curiousity, but then Harry was being drowned in emotions he just couldn't handle. He found himself becoming awed at Draco Malfoy, at how he had been through so much and reacted so bravely and still somehow came out ontop. But ontop of what? Ontop of the Low-Life Death Eater scale? Harry felt increasingly bad for his ex-rivalries upbringing, being forced into a life of Dark Arts at such an innocent age. If Harry had been put through the same situations, he recokened he'd have turned out the exact same as Malfoy.

These thoughts had made him wonder about his sanity at first, and then he realized that he was just being empathetic as perusual. Did it matter towards who? In Harry's head, Malfoy was no longer Malfoy but Draco instead. A human being totally detatched and separate from this name, somebody who felt just as much pain as everybody - although much more, in the brunette's opinion.

Harry felt the incrediable urge to tell Draco these things. To tell him that he thought he was brave, strong and pure-hearted. Somehow, he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself about to it, being too embarassed and worried about the reaction he might recieve.

Long ago he had stopped worrying about whether or not Draco would be disgusted with his own nightmares. Their eyes locked several times a day, understanding and recognition happened between those interactions. Other than those fleeting glances, they avoided the other like a plague when it came to any interactions. Both knew it would be too awkward, fighting each other but really only fighting themselves. It was also be redundant and a waste of time.

Not a lot of students noticed this, but Hermione did comment that Friday afternoon on Malfoy's 'absent attitude'. Thankfully, Harry had heard this and not five minuets later did he create a rather large spectacle including a First Year Hufflepuff, Crabbe and Goyle along with the Blisterin Puss Hex and Tripping Jinx.

"I take that back," Hermione had muttered before snarling and walking away.

This was also the first time any of his friend's angry expressions was directed at him, and Harry felt that it automatically hurt even if they didn't know it was him and thought it was Malfoy. Hermione had a look that could kill, and he was just noticing this.

As classes ended, Harry found himself becoming ridiculously anxious for the coming evening. He and Draco would be meeting again in the Room of Requirments, giving each other an update on homework, personal agendas, and anything else that had happened previously. But most especially, on their progress with each others greatest fears. Harry had his guess prepared, though he feared it to be wrong. He could only hope that Draco would be wrong with him, again.

"Me-ow," Pansy Parkinson had slipped into his dormitory at one point. Harry turned to face her, a light grimace on his face. There was nobody else around yet, it was a Friday night afterall and the Common Room was still crowded and booming with conversation and laughter. Harry was enjoying his alone time, amongst his thoughts. He cursed the pug for interupting it.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" Harry sounded uninterested, he stood up from the single shared desk in the room and dragged himself over to his trunk. He bent down to unlock in and began to rumage around, making it look as though he was doing something important. Mostly just doing anything so he didn't have to look at Parkinson's face and spew out that nights dinner.

"You," was her simple, firm response. Harry stopped dead, he was bent over and his arms were dangling holding bits of folded clothes. He swallowed and quickly regained himself, standing up straight he turned to face her. She was a lot closer than he had remembered her being last, and then she was pushing her body up against Draco's.

Harry panicked, 'What do I do?! Does Draco like her? Do they always act like this?!'

"What's wrong Dracey-poo, not in the mood?" she winked, her hands suddenly grasped at the waist line of those tight black slacks.

Harry looked utterly disgusted, he sneered down at the girl. "Get your hands off of my, Pansy," he snarled testily.

"You seemed to love them on you before..." she purred, and now she was doing something rather bold and pushing her way into Harry's shirt, her cold hands on his warm flesh.

Harry yelped unexpectedly and covered it up by growling and snatching both her wrists in the tight grasp of his finely manicured hand. "Not now, you ugly cow of a woman," he snapped and forcefully put her arms away from him before turning his back and putting his trunk back in order.

Pansy huffed and crossed her arms, she looked stern and defeated. "Fine. But don't come crawling back,"

"Trust me, I will not do such a thing," Harry whispered monotonely, turning to face the girl who seemed to be angry but held sad tears unfalling in her eyes.

"Why won't you ever just let us be? We're meant to happen...we're betrothed..." she responded, hurt but still guarded.

This struck a chord in Harry, 'Were they really betrothed? I don't want that,' he paused in his head. 'Wait, what do I care who Draco is going to marry or not?' shaking himself into reality, he turned and snarled again at Pansy. Her first sentence to him had revealed that Draco never wanted to do anything with her.

"Bugger off," he responded venomously, and with one last look she stomped out of the room. Harry didn't hear a cry, sobs, or angry screaming like he expected to. Instead, all he heard was the chatter down in the Common Room.

Before he headed off to bed, he decided to go and see what everybody was up to. He might as well keep up appearance. As he stood at the top of the stairs, he looked down at everybody. A lot of people in the room turned to watch him attentively, with pride, fear and respect. This made Harry smirk, which in turn made more people fear in the room. After a moment of him standing there, the people slowly began to get back to their conversations.

Harry watched as everybody spoke in circles. Not one pillow was askew on the couch, not one table was messy with homework, not one person looked ill in appearance. They were all so neatly, perfectly, royally, and with a completely arrogant attitude just conversing lightly. This irked Harry greatly, how could such a wide range of people in one room all act the same? He was beginning to learn how refined Slytherin's at Hogwarts really were. And then he recalled that they were all Purebloods anyway, which made the connection to the fact that they were all immensley rich.

Still, staring out at the crowd Harry felt himself grow awkward and slightly scared of this group of people. They didn't really seem like people at all, more like stiff cardboard cut-outs of homosapiens that spoke. It was enough to make Harry find his way back to Draco's bed, strip himself of his clothing and look down upon himself.

He was about to get into bed, but suddenly the milky skin was distracting him again. Being in Draco's body had its ups and downs, but lately Uncle Vernon's old tantra's weren't working anymore. Harry found himself wanting to touch Draco allover, even if that meant he would only be touching himself. He loved the feeling of that smooth skin, silky hair, tight abdomen. Harry strictly avoiding the downstairs region, in fear of what he may love feeling down there.

Blushing and quickly grabbing ahold of himself, Harry downed a Dreamless Sleep drought from the nightstand and locked Draco's trunk, then made sure the key was still safe around his neck on its silver chain.

'I never want to leave Draco's body,' he found himself wishing in his head, 'Because that would mean not being around Draco anymore...and...I kinda like that,' despite being obviously alone, Harry blushed at the thought of this. 'And I just don't want to have to deal with who I really am anymore...it's so much easier to be somebody else, and I would think Draco's feeling the samething,' he sighed and attempted to curse himself for his thoughts, but he couldn't anymore. Harry just gave up fighting with himself. He was giving into those thoughts he told himself wrong before. The thoughts that Vernon had taught him he was supposed to want to die because of. The thoughts that beforehand did make him want to die. Now those thoughts were comforting, strangely enough. Beneath the silk, emerald blankets, Harry wondered tiredly what tomorrow might bring him before he fell into a relaxed, drug induced sleep.

Oh boy what tomorrow brought him...

*

The fragments of my sanity/Is all that is left of me

I'm falling off the track/Over and over again