Hello Guys! Well, this chapter isn't nearly as long as I wanted it to be - I ran out of time. I'm off to Africa today, so there will be no chapter for the next 2 weeks at least. I was trying to write a very long one before I went, but I just ran out of time. Good news is, the next chapter is halfway written already, so when I get back from my trip I should be able to update fairly quickly :)
PS - Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I'm literally walking out the door to the airport, and didn't get to edit it as thoroughly as I wanted
I hope you all enjoy! See you when I get back :)
I do not own Harry Potter, this is for recreation only, I do not get a profit from his :)
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Chapter Thirty Seven - Meeting
"Stop smiling." It was quickly becoming a mantra, one that Draco seemingly ignored. "Seriously, stop it."
"I seem to recall something about you adoring my smile."
"I can assure you I'm not at the moment. Do you want to antagonise her? I'm sure she won't even blink before suspending you. Again."
They were heading towards the Great Hall; Harry walked, Draco strutted. Like the prat he was.
They had indeed managed to break into Ravenclaw Tower; after arguing with the knocker that acted as it's guardian, fumbling through puzzles, and even playing the 'Please, I have Succorbentis' card. Yes, they sunk that low. And still didn't get admitted.
It took several horrible attempts at pleading and Filch dodging before Harry managed to convince the inanimate object that there were two of them, and therefore, should be given two different puzzles.
Harry had blinked in surprise at the second riddle; did Hogwarts just recycle the questions? He had heard this one before, in the Triwizard maze.
Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?
A spider, obviously.
Draco had stared at him with raised eyebrows and a gaping mouth as he answered without hesitation, frowning more so as the door swung inward. He had sulked the entire night after that, true to Malfoy mannerisms. After all, he was supposed to be the brilliant and clever one; Harry was hardly a beacon of logic. It must have tested his nerves that Harry had been the one to answer correctly; that, in turn, had made Harry quite pleased throughout the night.
"I don't see her here."
"She'll be in the Great Hall, and she'll be livid. Especially if she see's you strut through the doors."
The Ravenclaws had not been impressed when Harry and Draco waltzed through the door, and plonked themselves down on a large blue couch before the fire. In fact, they had been almost speechless.
Almost, because as soon as they realised they could indeed speak, the yelling began. It didn't take long for Professor Sprout to hurry by, or for Headmistress McGonagall to be summoned. Her first words could have silenced a troll.
"You have been back for a day, Mister Malfoy!"
Honestly, it was as if she had never broken a rule during her schooling. Rules were made to be broken. Anyway, Harry thought it was a bit of an overreaction. The Slytherins allowed a Gryffindor into their common room without throwing up such a fuss.
"You know, I've been thinking of number twenty one." Draco demanded his attention, and succeeded in catching it. "And you've already done it. It was one of the school rules we broke."
Wow. He was really against it, wasn't he?
Harry gave him a pointed stare, trying to get across that he was not impressed with the aversion. Draco didn't even glance at him. "Doesn't count. You cast, not me."
"It counted for the school rules."
"It was a technicality. Half of them were." Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I want to do it myself."
He wanted feel like a proper wizard, and not someone likened to Filch. It would be worth it.
And, if anything dangerous did occur, at least it would…
No, there was no silver lining.
Something ghastly was going to ensue.
But he was still going to do it.
At least one more time.
They pushed the Great Hall doors open, preparing for the worst. Well, Draco was still smiling, if strained. He thought they had gotten away with it cheap. Cheap! A hundred points each was anything but cheap. And all from Slytherin; McGonagall had declared something along the lines of Harry believing he was a Slytherin, and therefore they could take the fall for his actions. Draco had practically beamed.
One glance at the house point hourglasses showed that Slytherin was still winning, but a large chunk of their undeserved wealth of emeralds had been cut. Oh, well, the fallout wouldn't be too horrible, then.
There was silence for a moment, before a roar rose up throughout the room.
At first, Harry thought it was the Ravenclaws shouting abuse at them. They would have every right to be pissed. But they just looked sullen, throwing glares and rolling their eyes.
No, beyond them along the far table.
The entire Slytherin table was on their feet, cheering, clapping, and sneering. They radiated haughtiness, as if they had all been caught for something they didn't do, and didn't care.
Well. Wasn't that something?
"Harry, stop smiling."
"Shut up."
.
.
.
"Draco, please. I don't want to do this." Harry tried for about the fifth time that minute, pleading to God's known and unknown to smite this blonde, arrogant prick. "Let's go back."
"If the world was conducted around peoples wants, it would be a rather poor one indeed." He drawled in return, unperturbed. He continued towards Hogsmeade, his hand curled around Harry's wrist like a shackle. "Everyone would want wealth, and it would have to be distributed from those that have to it those that don't; no one would have any money if it was shared equally. Everyone would be disappointed. People would want to marry their crushes, despite them longing for another. That might make marriage rather awkward, don't you think? Imagine the hundreds that you would have to share yourself with."
"What the hell are you going on about?"
"I'm trying to explain why people's wants are not necessarily for the best. Take McGonagall; she wants us to be detention right about now, but she can't stand the sight of us. It's for the best to deny her want, and everyone will be happier for it."
"You're going to get us expelled."
Draco threw him one of his grins. "It's only expulsion. There are worse things, I imagine, that could happen. I could have to share you with a couple hundred harpy fangirls. Fighting them off would be excruciatingly dull."
Harry had the sneaky suspicion it was the 'sharing' part of the equation that would be excruciating for Draco. After all, he got temperamental when Harry spent time with the other Slytherins.
They were approaching the village at an dreadfully quick pace. The little thatched cottages were growing larger with each step. The village was a ghost town, however; it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend. They were breaking yet another school rule by sneaking out.
"My wants should be paramount." Harry tried, ignoring the scoff besides him "And I definitely don't want to do this."
"If that's the case, shouldn't you care about my wants by defalt? And I do want to do this. So, whatever are we to do? A compromise?" He was enjoying this far too much.
"Sure. Let's not go."
"I believe a compromise entails a little negotiation."
"Fine. You want to go so much, you go. I'll stay right here."
"You're our leverage; everyone will do anything for the great Wizarding Saviour, whether you're associating with a Malfoy or not. What do you think she'll do when she sees a lone ex-Death Eater on her doorstep? Do you think she'll stop to ask questions before or after she curses me?"
"I don't care."
"Harry, you wound me." Prick.
This was going to be a mistake.
Draco was right about one thing; people would do anything for their idol Harry Potter. Until they realised he was everyone's idol, and therefore, just a large sum of money on a cheque. They would tell his secrets immediately; the papers tomorrow would be historical. Confirmed relations between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Harry Potter dying of Succorbentis. His life splayed out amongst the papers as if anyone had a right to know about it.
And then the letters would come flooding in. Howlers, or fan mail. Both would be overwhelming. Everyone at school would be angry, or devastated. God, Ron and Hermione would be hurt. Everyone would be hurt; their families had been killed trying to protect someone already dying.
He understood that the battle was about ridding England of Voldemort; he understood that. But the guilt still lay heavy in his heart. Fred. Collin. Lavender. Fighting for him. Someone dying.
"Blaise has been throwing me quite a few pointed stares since I've returned." Harry just nodded; it wasn't important as long as Nott remained silent. "I think you're going to lose your bet sooner than you thought."
"Oh, fancy that." Draco had been flittering through various topics since they'd left the safety of Hogwarts. He was probably trying to distract Harry by the rapidly approaching hell he was forcing him to endure.
"You're not concerned?"
"Not in the slightest." Harry replied truthfully. "What do I have to be concerned about? I didn't do anything dangerous while you were away, and even if I did, it's not as if you're going to dish out a punishment. You're a friend, not a guardian. You don't get to decide how I act."
"Of course not." Draco conceded. "I'll do something worse."
"What could you possibly do?"
"I'll be disappointed." Draco snickered, dodging Harry's punch. "There's nothing worse that the disappointed stare. I've heard it's quite effective on Gryffindors."
"You're going to be a very controlling husband, aren't you?"
"You wouldn't like anyone compliant."
Harry didn't wonder about Draco's hand tightening around his, until everything went black. He was pulled through the tight tubing, pressed from all directions. His eyes were being pushed deeper into his sockets, into his skull.
And he could breathe again.
He wretched his hand away from Draco's, taking a large step away from him before he could apparate them again. "A little warning would have been nice; you could have splinched me, again."
"You weren't complaining the first time."
Harry threw him a glare, turning around to survey his surroundings. They were standing in an alleyway between two large houses, in London suburbia. Identical brick houses lined the street, distinguished only by their decorations. One had a single plant to garnish their lawn; another was still supporting Christmas streamers.
"You coming?" Draco was at the entrance of the alley, hand on his hip and eyebrow cocked. "It's just over there."
Christ.
"I thought we were going to make a compromise." He managed to speak only after several tense moments. He wasn't taking a step. His feet had glued to the pavement. No sticking charm required. "I'll tell you all about the cupboard if we go back. Now."
And on went the mask.
Draco stared at him quietly, watching him fidget with his hands before finally folding them across his chest. He felt sick. As if he was about to throw up.
What if she had nothing to say? What if it had all just been a coincidence?
What hope would he have then?
No, it was better to stay away. Draco would take the bait; he had been hounding him since Dudley had mentioned the bloody cupboard. He wouldn't pass up this chance.
"Well? Deal?" Harry asked as Draco merely blinked. "Well?"
Draco still didn't blink; he shifted, then walked slowly back through the alley. Thank god. It was over. He could hide back in the safety of the castle like the coward he was.
Harry eagerly grabbed the extended arm, preparing the apparate back to Hogsmeade. With luck they would still be able to make their detention with McGonagall none the wiser.
Draco tightened his hold against Harry's arm, linking it with a firm grip.
And took a step.
Dragging him to the entrance of the alley.
"Draco, no! I'm not doing it!" Harry dug in his heels, trying to jerk his arm back. Draco's grip was steel, and unrelenting. He strolled as if easily, managing to drag Harry through the alley as if he wasn't resisting. "Let me go! I'll find my own way back to Hogwarts! Draco!"
Harry leant back, trying to wrench his hand free again to no prevail. They were the same size; why was it so easy for Draco to force him to follow? Humiliation flooded across Harry's face, trying to stop the staggered procession down the street.
"Let me go!" He ended up using his free hand to uncurl Draco's fingers, at least halting the silent blonde. His grip was iron, curled around his wrist.
Draco just reached over to grab the other wrist, tightening his original hold when Harry flung his hand away. He offered a blank stare before taking another step, attempting to pull Harry along.
Harry jerked himself back, almost toppling both of them.
"I don't want to do this, Draco." He growled, lest it sound like pleading. "Let me go."
Why was he just staring? He didn't say a word, just watched with those large grey eyes. What the hell was he thinking?
Harry couldn't take it; yes, he was running away. Yes, it was cowardly. He didn't care. He felt like he was about to throw up; his feet felt like lead. It was as if he was having a panic attack; he needed to get away from here! Why didn't the bloody Slytherin understand that?
"LET ME GO!"
"What the hell is going on out here?"
They both turned as if stunned, deer trapped in headlights. A young woman stood on her doorstep, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Harry seriously considered apparation. He didn't have to look at the mailbox to confirm the address. Draco was always a step ahead.
"Amanda Harvey?" He asked as politely as Harry had ever heard his tone. He didn't seem too perturbed at being caught dragging someone unwillingly across the road.
"It's Stewarts, now." She frowned, glancing between the two. Harry couldn't meet her gaze; instead, he stared at Draco's hand curled around his wrist. Still iron. "Do I know you?"
"Not as of yet." Harry didn't know if Draco had attempted a smile or not. He wasn't game enough to look. God, he was such a fucking coward. "I'm Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is Harry Potter. We were wondering if we could borrow a moment of your time." No question.
"Harry…oh, shit. Harry Potter?"
His entire stomach sunk. "…Hi." He couldn't manage a smile. Maybe if he just pretended he wasn't here?
"Holy…it's really you! Really, really you!" Harry sighed inwardly as she hurried over, running a hand through the hair. She quickly brushed down her shirt of imaginary specks of dirt, offering her hand. "It's such a pleasure." She sounded breathless just standing there.
Draco reluctantly released Harry hand so he could shake hers. Harry rather wished he still had his shackle.
"You want to meet me? Me? Did…did Chris somehow set this up?"
"Actually, it's a bit of a sombre conversation we wish to have. It may be best if we travel indoors, if you have no objections?" Thank god for Draco.
Amanda Harvey smiled brilliantly, nodding and gesturing for them to follow her. She didn't seem to interpret his words as appropriately as she should have. No one sane would smile after hearing that.
Trapped between the enthusiastic Harvey, and the stern Draco, Harry had no choice but to shuffle into the house.
It was an organised mess.
Books lined the staircase, piled high on the floor. A bowl of keys had been placed hap hazardously on top of them, a jacket sat over the next pile. Three cats bolted down the stairs and sprinted past their feet into the kitchen.
She led them into the lounge room, hurrying to move the Prophet that was open on the coffee table. Harry caught a glimpse of his own face before glancing away. She was a Prophet reader. Great.
"Uh, can I get you tea, or anything? I have pumpkin juice in the fridge." She looked a bit flustered now, but her smile remained. "Maybe a scone?"
"Thank you, but we're fine." Draco replied despite her staring openly at Harry. Everyone knew who the offer had been directed towards. He sat on the couch, making himself at home. Harry reluctantly joined him, sighing. There was no escape.
"So, what can I do for you?" Still, she smiled.
Silence drifted over the small group as everyone waited for the response. Harry stared resolutely at the coffee table, swallowing tightly. He didn't want to say it. Her smile would disappear in a heartbeat.
He had never been more relieved as Draco spoke quietly besides him. "Actually, we're hoping you may help us. Simon Harvey was your father?"
And there went the smile.
"Yes, he was. Why?" Happy a moment ago, now guarded. Harry chanced a glance, and regretted it. Her face was one of shock, and hurt. Her arms curled around her chest protectively. "Did he owe you money, too?"
"Not money. He owes us an explanation, one we're hoping you might help us with."
"…An explanation?" She offered no more, cautious.
"We know he had a dangerous disease." Her eyes squeezed shut. Draco continued ruthlessly. "One that usually has an expiry date of approximately six months. We need to know how he lasted three years."
"How are you to know this?" She dodged the question, frowning instead. Her eyes hovered over Harry before glaring at Draco. "He tried to keep it secret. Only the hospital knew, and family."
"We had a sympathizer in the hospital." Draco admitted. "I won't tell you who. I'm not going to jeopardize their work."
Harry managed another glance. She looked positively dreadful, now. She continued to glance at the door, as if she wanted to ask them to leave. Harry would in a heartbeat.
"I don't see how he owes you two anything. How any of this is any of your business."
Draco sighed next to Harry, clicking his tongue with irritation. "We're both here because we have a mutual friend, one who is in hospital this very moment. And the hospital doesn't do anything. They treat any new sores, patch him up, and continue on their merry way until the next accident. We need to know how your father lasted three years, because our friend doesn't have that long. Your father lasted the longest, but didn't detail how. He owes us that."
"Oh god, a child…" Harry closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the wave of nausea. A mutual friend, indeed. "But…I don't know what to tell you. I mean, I hardly knew him."
"Please." Harry blinked, forcing his eyes open so he could stare at Draco. He had asked, politely. He looked almost as miserable as Amanda Harvey was. "Anything."
She blinked quickly a few times, a hand wringing through her hair. "I mean, I didn't…He just turned up one day, out of the blue. He wasn't around when I was a kid, he was off with three other witches, none my mother. I was planning my wedding and bang, he turned up on my doorstep. Said he had that horrible disease, and he needed me." She shook her head quickly, wiping at her eyes. "It was insane; he was insane. He wouldn't leave me alone; he was here every single day. Every. Single. Day. There was only so much you could take of him."
She reached to grab a tissue, dabbing at the wetness in her eyes. Draco didn't speak, and he didn't need to. She was on a tirade now, as if she had to get it off her chest. She didn't care it was to a stranger.
"He was erratic. Point blank refused to go to the hospital after the first few months; said they were useless. It was…constant. Clingy. Anniversaries, birthdays…two in the morning on Wednesdays…he was here. It became desperate in the end. It got so bad he was afraid to sleep. Ran himself into the ground. It was a relief when… I would wake up, and he would be waiting outside the bedroom door 'for a chat'. When I came home from work, he would be at the door with a cup of tea in one hand, and a list, a literal fucking list, of things he did during the day to talk about. It was constant. He invited himself to my anniversary. He ended up almost destroying my marriage, spending all my money on his nonexistent 'treatment'…"
"What treatment?"
"Stupid stuff." She waved it away with her hand, shrugging. "Tried magic dousing at one point, not caring it was illegal. An auror actually broke the fireplace storming the place. I have his list, somewhere."
"Could we have a look at it?"
"None of it worked." She sighed, getting to her feet and shuffling to the mountains of books in the hallway. "If I were you, I would trust your friend to the Healers. They know their stuff; if there was a cure, they would have found it by now."
"Not if they don't look." Draco muttered. Harry could feel him staring at him again, but didn't meet his gaze. He wouldn't be sitting in this bloody lounge room if it wasn't for the arse besides him. He wouldn't be hearing how useless it was to want to live. He felt for Harvey, but was also terrified. Was that what he was going to turn into? Someone that was desperate for attention? Someone that had his own special kind of madness?
"He didn't succumb to the disease, though, did he?" Draco asked as she handed over a tattered notebook, barely glancing at it. "It was suicide."
"Yes." She replied coldly, "He decided to apparate; it ripped him apart. Any more questions, Mister Malfoy, to quench your curiosity? Or are you finished bringing up my ghosts?"
"I meant no disrespect. I'm simply trying to-"
"What? Discover some miraculous cure for your friend?" She had reached her breaking point. "I'm sorry, but it's not going to happen. If you want my advice, you get the hell away from them before they go mad. If your friend is anything like my father, you're better off without them. They'll only hurt you."
"My apologies." Oh, great. Draco's voice had turned to ice. "I thought your father had suffered. I never knew you were in agony, too."
"Don't you dare you come into my home and judge me." She snapped, throwing herself from the couch. "You have no idea what it was like! Any little mistake and his entire hand was blown off! He summoned his plate once…his plate, and his entire body just broke! It crumpled around him, like it was made of cardboard. Your friend is in hospital, right? They have the Healers to care for them; they're trained to do so! Well, you have no idea how exhausting it is caring for someone that can't seem to remember that acting like a muggle is the only safe way to live! The constant worry, the constant fear-"
Harry couldn't take it.
He was on his feet before anyone could blink, stumbling to the door. He had to get out of here; it felt like he was suffocating. The nausea rose up within him again, bile filling his mouth.
"Harry!"
Harry barely managed to make it out the door before his stomach gave up. He retched almost violently into the garden, the little he had managed to eat that morning making a miserable reappearance.
Was he that exhausting to Draco? Had be forced himself into his life, to ruin it? The thought had him heaving again, almost collapsing.
Strong hands held him upright, as gentle as they always were. It almost made him cry.
"We're different, Harry." Draco was louder than he had been all morning. More determined. "Are you listening to me? I don't regret a day. Not a single fucking day."
Harry wiped his mouth, stumbling down the steps.
"Oh…oh god." He glanced at Harvey, and finally met her gaze.
He apparated away as soon as the realisation hit her eyes.
.
.
.
Harry landed heavily, falling to his knees. Unlike Harvey, he hadn't been ripped apart. Unfortunately.
Christ, she had had such hatred for her father. Utter loathing. And she had confirmed Harry's fears; this disease was going to ruin everyone he knew. It was going to wear away at them until they were as tired as she had been. As tired as Harry felt.
But he didn't have long to consider this; a furious blonde was going to follow him soon. He had to get to a safe zone for Draco figured out he had returned to Hogsmeade.
Harry pushed himself to his feet, spitting at the taste of vomit that lingered in his mouth. His feelings of guilt had twisted around in his stomach until he had literally thrown up. How weak was he? He couldn't fight against Draco, didn't have control of his stomach, he had almost cried. Yes, very manly. That was sure going to convince Draco he was worth it.
God, damn it!
He had only taken a single staggering step before a loud crack echoed throughout the village.
He hadn't gotten away in time.
Harry swallowed as the blonde caught sight of him, mask disregarded. He clutched Harvey's notebook in one hand; the other was clenched.
"Are you alright?" He asked, oddly kind for someone that was bound to be quite irate. He hurried over, brisk steps.
"I'm fine-"
"Oh, good. Then what the fuck do you think you were doing!?" Harry winced as he was punched in the arm, dodging the second fist that flew at his head.
"Quit it!"
"You had just heard that apparation was dangerous! Did you want to be ripped apart?" Despite the anger, he wasn't hitting hard. Harry knew what punches he could throw, and none of them were being employed at the moment. "Don't you ever do that again, you fucking idiot."
"Alright!" Harry yelled, catching the next punch. He stared at Draco's nose instead of his eyes; they were sure to be disappointed. "I just…had to get out of there."
"She's not nearly as strong as I am." Draco wrenched his hand free, easily, and used it to lift Harry's head. "Look at me."
Grudgingly, Harry glanced at him. No mask in sight. He was obviously angry, but there was no pity. He was concerned, if anything. "Do you listen to a thing I say? I don't regret a day, Harry. Not when you're being a moody bitch, not when you're in one of your depressing moods. Not a single day. At your worst, at your best. You hear me?"
"I'm going to wear you down like he did."
"Try me. I don't lose at challenges."
"He had his own list." Harry said quietly. "Always had something to do. He kept himself busy; didn't have time to think about the disease, let alone worry about it. And what did it account to? He literally ripped himself apart."
"He went mad."
"He didn't go mad; he just had had enough."
"He didn't allow it to take over his life."
"Happy thoughts and a positive attitude aren't going to change the disease, Draco. Wishes don't do a bloody thing; don't you think I've wished plenty that this disease didn't exist?"
"Don't you think I have, too?" Draco glanced around, all too aware that they were almost shouting in the middle of Hogsmeade. Harry didn't see why he was bothered by it; Harvey's daughter was going to tell the Prophet about his illness as soon as she got over the shock. Or maybe before; anger always prodded people into hasty decisions, and she had been plenty angry.
The return to Hogwarts was silent; both boys were wrapped up in their own thoughts.
Harry didn't want tomorrow to come; he could picture the headline now.
His secret would be out, and he would be miserable for it.
A day passed, and the paper was clear.
Two more; nothing.
A week. Still nothing.
.
.
.
Harry waited outside the Transfiguration classroom, sighing as he watched Peeves throw chalk at his other classmates. McGonagall had told Draco to stay after class, for not completing yet another homework assignment. He had handed in parchment, but it wasn't even half the intended size. Draco was brilliant at Transfiguration; he would easily get an 'O' if he put in a slither of effort.
Harry knew why he was ignoring his studies; the blonde was spending all his time with Harry. He was either helping him complete items on the list, or he was trying to occupy both of their free time. When he thought Harry wasn't around, he delved into Harvey's tattered notebook. It was useless; there wasn't going to be anything they could use in it. But if it helped Draco realised Harry wasn't going to live a happy and healthy life, then he wouldn't say a word against it.
And he didn't.
Draco finally entered the hallway, looking less than perturbed. McGonagall didn't faze him; she could throw any threat at him, and he would easily shrug it off. He was indomitable.
"Oi, brainiac." Harry ignored the eyebrow that rose. "If you want your N.E.W.T's, you have to start paying attention in class, and doing your homework. You can't keep this up. And let me remind you, this is coming from someone who isn't even expecting his N.E.W.T's."
"I have more important things to do than simple homework." Harry was sure he was drawling only because the door was open, and McGonagall could probably hear every word.
"What's more important than your schooling?" He was feeling very Hermione-esque at the moment. "You're clever; you could have any job you want. And you're going to get stuck in some dead end job. You'll probably earn a minimum wage on the knight bus."
"The horror." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, more important, less important. Insignificant." Draco shrugged, bored. "Some things don't scale."
"If it's not important-"
"The scale is a dot in comparison, Harry. An insignificant, malleable dot. Understand?"
Merlin, he couldn't talk to him when he got this way. The git was absolutely stubborn.
They headed to the Great Hall as per the norm. Recently they had all been doing their homework there. Well, Draco had been tutoring them all in Potions. In fact, he had been tutoring Harry in Potions and the others had somehow snuck their way into the lessons. At least there was one class they were all guaranteed to pass. Harry actually understood a bit; not the majority, but more than usual.
"You know, Ron got a better mark than you." Harry said quite loudly, laughing as Draco hit his arm. A couple second year Slytherins had heard, and looked positively heartbroken by the news. "So did Neville. I heard them boasting."
"Are you trying to ruin me?"
"If it makes you give a damn about your work…yes. I do believe I am."
"Git."
"Prat."
They had both ignored the horrors of last week and the meeting with Amanda Harvey. It hovered in both of their minds, clear whenever they glanced at one another. But neither spoke of it, and that was how it was going to stay. The meeting had never occurred.
They entered the hall, glad it was almost empty. Another reason they headed here instead of the library, or the common room; both were filled right before dinner, and the noise made Draco irritable. That had to be avoided at all costs, of course.
The other three were already there.
Harry smiled, sitting down besides Draco and across from the others. He made sure his grin was as wide a possible, even if strained. "Hello Pansy. Hello Theo." He greeted them both as enthusiastically as he could, before slowly turning to make eye contact with Zabini. He waited a moment, before turning back to the others. "What did you two think of Transfiguration?"
"Come on, Potter!" Zabini moaned, slumping across the table. He loathed being ignored almost as much as Draco did. "I had no choice! Don't overlook me!"
The others snickered, pulling out their parchment. They thought it was amusing. So did Harry, really. He wasn't angry at Zabini, it was just funny that he cared so much about Harry's good opinion. Anyway, he had to act a little annoyed that he had 'lost' the bet with Draco. Nott had stayed silent, and that was how it was going to stay. If Harry acted like he had won, Draco would query what else had happened whilst he was away. He couldn't have that.
"Talk to me." Zabini whined, "I thought we had a connection! We had a bond!"
"That was before you turned into a snitch." Pansy laughed, rolling her eyes as Zabini's excessive spluttering and finger pointing.
"You hypercritical cow! I overheard you telling Draco about Potter's eating habits of all things!"
"So? It was for his own good."
"And telling Draco that a rampaging bull of testosterone has it out for his boy toy was for his own good, too!"
Harry snorted, scribbling down the diagram Draco was pointing to with a bored sigh. He didn't really explain much, just pointed to the sentences to copy, and occasionally asked a question he expected them to answer. It really was a cheating way to study.
"Potter laughed! He forgives me!"
"But the bond has been broken." Harry smirked, feeling like a proper Slytherin. "It cannot be replaced. I will forever fear your slyness."
"He's about as sly as a sledgehammer between the eyes." Pansy laughed, but her eyes were soft. If only Zabini had been watching her then; he would have made some kind of move. But alas, he was slumped across the table. Moment missed.
"I'm bored of Potions." He sighed, "How about we take a break?"
Harry didn't point out that they had only copied a single diagram thus far.
"Chess, anyone?"
"No one sane will ever play with you again, Blaise." Draco drawled. "You're inept, remember?"
"You're a little cocky, aren't you?" Harry asked, ignoring the unwarranted look of adoration Zabini threw his way; god, he was never moderate, was he? Never half-arsed. " Inept? Really? Who are you to give out such titles?"
"I'm the king." Draco smirked back, "I control the board."
"Sure you do."
"Fine, little pawn." Harry didn't miss the comparison between their respective pieces. "Let's have a game."
Harry had never played against Draco before; he knew he was pretty good, and Harry was pretty woeful. But the challenge was in the air, and who could resist?
"But first," Draco smirked, ever the smug teacher. "Why don't you ever use a dirty cauldron before mixing a potion?"
"The previous ingredients remain, and can cause the new potion to become poisonous."
"What's the main ingredient of a Wiggenweld Potion?"
"A Moly; black stalk, white flowers."
"And what is a Wiggenweld Potion?"
"Healing potion. Has been used to counter-react the Draught of Living Death."
Draco leaned back, grin flittering across his face. "I am a God." He was a humble little thing.
"I never doubted that for a second." Harry laughed as the others pretended to vomit across the table. Well, Pansy and Blaise did. Nott sat sullenly, like he had been lately. He wasn't nearly as talkative as he had been, and Harry felt a twinge of guilt over it. But he still met Harry's eyes, and nodded at him, so he couldn't be too bothered over keeping his secret.
The board was quickly set up, with Draco's smirk turning more predatory by the second. "How about we make this a bit more interesting?" He leaned across the table, arrogant. "The winner gets to pick a penalty for the loser."
"A penalty? Like what?" Harry had learnt not to agree to anything without asking first. Several Slytherins had taken to asking for a favour, not telling him what it was, and he would find several of his belongings missing the next day. A fourth year had actually borrowed his invisibility cloak!
"Oh, I don't know." Draco stared at the board, moving his first piece forwards. "One could ask for a certain number of a certain list to be completed. One could ask for the other to go swimming with them at midnight. They could shave ones head. Any little penalty for losing."
It didn't sound too bad.
"Alright. Deal."
"No, Potter!" Nott spoke a second too late, sighing as Harry threw him an incredulous glance. He didn't talk for a week, and the first thing was this disappointed sigh.
"One could demand the loser turn up to class wearing nothing but a towel."
Oh, dear god.
Harry turned back to the smug git. He wouldn't. He wouldn't.
"Your turn, Harry."
Harry moved a piece, swallowing heavily. The friendly little game just got a bit more dangerous, didn't it?
Draco was as brutal as he was with the others. Instead of claiming an easy victory outright, he toyed with Harry. He collected piece by piece, smirking the entire time. By the time he was finally ready to go in for the kill, he had four queens on the board, and hadn't yet lost a single piece.
Harry was left with two pawns, and his useless King.
"I do believe that is a checkmate." Draco laughed, "This was much more lucrative than Potions. Good idea, Blaise."
Harry turned hopelessly towards the others. Their shrugs were less than supportive.
"I tried to warn you." Nott said quietly.
"Great idea, Blaise." Harry growled, running a hand through his hair. Surely Draco had been kidding. He had proven he had a heart somewhere in that chest of his; certainly he had compassion, too.
His grin said otherwise. Radiating haughtiness.
"You're a cruel git."
"You're the one that lost."
"Double or nothing?" He tried, desperate. Nott rewarded his idea with a loud groan, Pansy with a hit over his head.
Draco regarded him, trying to find the loophole. Surely Harry had some magnificent plan concocted, if he was challenging him to another match? Not in the slightest.
"We have Transfiguration tomorrow. Do you really think I'm going to let you worm your way out of that?"
"Alright." Harry shrugged, as if he wasn't planning to escape the school grounds tonight. Maybe he would become a monk? "If you're scared, you don't have to."
"Tch, playing the scared card? How juvenile."
"It worked, didn't it?"
It was a shock for everyone when Draco chuckled, setting up the board again. "Fine. Let's see if I can get you to turn up starkers instead."
Oh,dear god!
Why did he make it worse?
Draco went first, again. He stared at the board for a good few minutes before moving his first pawn. Harry didn't even glance at his pieces before moving his.
"Oh, Salazar, what are you doing to us?" Nott grumbled, shifting over to sit besides Harry. He waited until Harry's turn again before speaking. "No, not that one. Any other piece but that one."
So, apparently he was getting help.
It was worse than doing his O.W.L's, and he had fainted halfway through one of his exams.
Nott wouldn't let him make a move until he agreed with it. Zabini threw around useless comments, like "Get the king.", and Pansy had been making lewd comments about how much she wanted to vanish the towel tomorrow.
A small group had formed around them, a collection from different year groups. A fifth year Ravenclaw stood amongst them, of all people, but was welcomed immediately as she pointed out a move that managed to capture one of Draco's knights.
It wasn't exactly a fair game; twelve on one.
And yet, Draco smirked. He still wasn't perturbed.
Dinner had started now, and they were still playing. And arguing.
"No, he should move the rook next."
"Don't listen to him, Harry. The pawn. Move that pawn."
"No, the bishop! He could get the other knight with the bishop!"
"Can't you see that's a trap?"
The board was a mess of pieces; Harry didn't have a clue what was going on. Everywhere he looked seemed to be traps within traps; it was true. Draco really did mutilate the game into pure torture.
Still, Draco smirked.
He hadn't said a word in ages. He didn't need to; he was going to win.
Slowly, Harry moved his rook to take a pawn.
And Draco's bishop took his queen.
Harry blinked, shocked. Well, there was no way he could win now. That was, from what the others had managed to get across, a pivotal piece. It was necessary, and he was now utterly defenceless.
How could you win without your queen?
It was hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
And still, Draco smirked.
More people surrounded the table; there had to be at least twenty students helping Harry now. But they weren't enough; Draco's skill was impenetrable.
Harry was going to lose.
…
"Get Ron."
Draco raised his eyebrows at that, but he was still unperturbed. He didn't seem angry, only smug. It made up Harry's mind.
"Someone get Ron."
He was barely aware of the horde of Slytherin first years that went sprinting across the hall. They must be drawing every eye in the school. Harry was sure the stakes had already gotten out. With Pansy's comments, it was impossible that it hadn't.
Draco wasn't watching the board anymore; he probably knew where all the pieces were anyway. Harry didn't doubt that he could play with a blindfold, and win. Instead, he stared at Harry. Outwardly he looked normal; a slither of curiosity for Harry's words, complacency towards the game. His eyes were guarded. Not for the first time Harry wondered if he was any good at legilimency. He would be doomed if he was.
The Slytherins slowly quietened, as good an indication as any.
Harry glanced over his shoulder, surprised at the sheer amount of relief that filled him when he sighted red hair amongst the green robes. God, he had missed him.
Ron stood with a frown next to the first years, hand scratching at his arm. He didn't look annoyed at being essentially summoned by someone that hadn't spoken to him for months, just uncomfortable at being surrounded by Slytherins. Harry didn't blame him; they could be downright terrifying.
"If I don't win this chess game," Harry said, forcing a grim smile on his face. "I'll be turning up to class tomorrow…naked."
Ron, for his credit, just blinked at this information. He flushed red, and scratched his nose, but didn't seem too shocked. "Well, I'd better help you then." He offered with an awkward smile, shuffling over to the table.
Draco still didn't look overly mad, amazingly. He inclined his head slightly, waiting for their move.
The table was quiet for a moment as the newcomer studied the board. He leant his forearm on Harry's shoulder, just as they would when playing in the overcrowded common room. It had been months, and they reverted back to familiar mannerisms within moments.
Harry's heart almost broke.
"Knight to E5." Ron said quietly, but confidently. Harry moved the piece without hesitation. Ron would know what to do.
Draco moved his bishop to take it immediately.
"Now take it with your rook."
Harry did so.
Draco frowned now, shaking his head slightly. The smirk reappeared almost immediately, though, as he moved his queen to safety. Allowing Harry to take his rook.
Two pieces taken in three moves.
Better than they had been going all night.
They continued in that manner for a little while; aggressive, and quick.
Harry had glanced at Draco with worry as he had sighed, the first noise in ages. But his lips had been twitching, as though it was an effort to keep them straight. He was enjoying the challenge, even if it was against Ron. He would never admit it, but Draco had found his match.
Slowly, the other Slytherins rejoined.
"You could have taken his queen, Weasley."
"I know."
"…I don't get it."
"You don't have to. Harry, move your king to the left."
And so they played, until Draco sighed again, stretching his hands. "Who would have thought Weasleby knew how to play?" He asked no one in particular. The food was starting to disappear along the table; how long had they been playing for?
Harry watched a little confused as Draco snatched up a plate of treacle tart before it disappeared, sitting back down with another smirk. He actually seemed half proud.
Harry felt Ron stiffen next to him, probably because of the name. "He beat McGonagall's giant chess set first year." He grinned, glancing at his gangly friend. If they were still that. "Anyway, he beat you at Transfiguration today too. I think we have a new king at chess."
"Stop bringing it up." Draco smirked, sliding the plate over. Yum. Treacle was his favourite.
"So…it's over?" Harry had to ask, if just for the reactions.
"Merlin…" "Christ." "Mother of…"
"There will be no turning up starkers tomorrow." Ron clarified with a grin. "God, you've always been awful at chess. Why the hell did you decide to play with a bet?"
"I warned him." Zabini said solemnly, smirking at the yells of his peers.
"You bloody hell did not!"
"Get the king! Is that really the best you could do?"
Harry caught Draco's eye, and offered the most patronizing smirk he could give. "Well, Draco, I guess you're joining the towel party in class tomorrow."
"Fine, point taken." Draco shrugged, "I withdraw my penalty. You are free to wear the uniform. Happy?"
Harry couldn't help the grin. Oh, he was very happy. "That's all very well and good, but I don't withdraw mine. You should be grateful I'm allowing you the towel."
"If I have to wear the towel, so do you."
"Guess we're at a stalemate."
"Give me back my tart."
Harry laughed, turning to tell Ron about the previous penalties associated with the game, but he was already shuffling halfway across the hall, scratching at his head as if in confusion.
It shouldn't hurt as much as it did.
He had walked away from their friendship.
It hurt regardless.
.
.
.
Draco lay stretched out on his bed, the picture of ease as he curled his toes against the sheets. He was just a normal boy, watching his fiancé get changed for the night and not bothering to hide the fact he was perving on the skinny brunette.
Inwardly, Draco could be screaming.
If he didn't possess exceptional control over his mind. The normal panic that would override a lesser person's thoughts and actions had been dulled into a monotonous yet insistent murmur.
The so called "treatments" Harvey had been delving into yielded nothing. Absolutely fuck nothing. Useless, the entire book. Little comments lined the columns, such as 'suppress it', or 'rid it'. The how part of the equation was rather lacking.
The whole expedition had produced nothing except Harry's returned doubt and guilt, something Draco had been trying to avoid. Damn it, it was hard enough to get Harry to try to contribute to life without shying away at one point or another; how often had he suggested they complete an item on his list without Draco prodding or demanding? Case and point.
It was hard; not exhausting. That thoughtless twit should never have uttered the word. Harry was sure to have it drilling into his head; he was evidently constructing another barrier Draco would have to tear down. Changing this stubborn git's opinion was hard, and worth every moment.
"Take a picture." Harry interrupted the murmur of thoughts, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it to the floor. Draco's part of the dormitory had never been quite so messy; with two trunks shoved in the space of one, and Harry not knowing how to fold a single article of clothing.
Draco rolled over, and crossed to Blaise's side of the room, ignoring his snoring friend. He yanked open the top draw of his dresser, stealing the camera Pansy had lent him. She had asked for fangirl photographs; Draco knew she had.
Spinning back around, Draco slumped back on his bed, and clicked the button on the camera. The flash was blinding, and Harry's dropped jaw was priceless.
"Delete that!"
"No." He took another one, smirking as Harry tried to jam on a shirt back to front in a unsuccessful attempt to cover his skin. Draco waved his wand, a smile breaking out as Harry's shirt betrayed him and dutifully ripped apart. Another photograph was needed at that.
"You bloody wanker!" Harry pretended he was angry, but his cheeks had flushed red with embarrassment. He spun around and headed back to the dresser; as if that was going to persuade Draco to stop. It just provided him with a rather advantageous view of his behind.
He was quite ready to point this out to the brunette, too.
Instead, he watched with a morbid fascination as part of Harry's back grew steadily darker. Just below his shoulders, a large patch of skin grew sinister, spreading out as if paint on a canvas. When it stopped spreading, it dimmed. If Draco was to flash the camera again, the chances were that the patch would be a deep purple.
A horribly large bruise had just exploded against Harry's back, and the only indication he gave was a slight shrug of his shoulders as he pulled another shirt over his head.
Draco placed the camera away; the humour was gone.
This is why number twenty one wasn't allowed to be completed; if a bruise developed for no reason, not magic or injury…what did he think actually using his magic would do? It would be ruthless; he would be lucky not to be ripped apart.
And yet Harry was still eager, if not desperate to have that particular one completed.
Draco understood why; he had to do it while he still had a relative chance of doing it and living.
But…
But damn him for putting it on his bloody list in the first place.
He was worth more than the accomplishes on a list.
"You okay?"Harry was watching him with a slight frown on his face, worry in his eyes. He worried far too much; he needed to change those miserable thoughts.
"Just thinking how much I don't want to turn up to class wearing a towel tomorrow."
Andthere was the smile.
Exhausting? Hard?
Insignificant, in the face of that smile.
.
.
.