Chapter Seven: Boredom Things (And dying things)

They met up from time to time; mostly because Harry continued to follow him and Draco would tell him to come out. They played chess; they didn't even really speak. Through the corridors they did no more than nod, in class they stopped staring at each other and actually paid attention to the lessons. Draco had even started to eat a bit. He still felt the pull, but he could ignore it knowing that he'd probably see Harry up close soon enough. He thought this would be enough, to be 'acquaintances'; but then one day, clearing up the chess board, their fingers touched, and while Harry brushed it off easily, Draco was struck. Last time he had felt his power but that time it was more than that. He did feel his power but he also felt something warm go through his entire body, he felt safe. It made him realise how unsure and scared he truly was. The cold was horrible and Draco couldn't bring himself to be nice to Harry anymore for that day.

He stood in front of his mirror one evening, looking at his mark. It had stopped growing for the past week, during which he had been with Harry every evening, but it seemed to have picked up again. For seven days the 'chess-relationship' was enough, but his genes needed more. He turned and saw that the mark was spreading on his back; they were just stripes for now, but he supposed that the carving would become a symmetry of the feathers on his legs. It was going to get worse, he felt it. At first, the pull was strong enough just to get them nearer, but past that it needed the contact.

It was Saturday and the snow had fallen on the grounds. The younger were out, in the middle of snowball fights, couples were holding each other to stay warm – weak excuse, warming spells are quite good – and some used this time to stay indoors in front of the fire. Draco went walking. He was hoping that the cold weather would make his insides feel less frisky. No such luck. He stopped in front of the lake, which was completely frozen over, cracks taking shapes where the Giant Squid had tried to break free no doubt. He breathed out and smiled at the 'smoke' coming out of his mouth, it reminded him of a few good memories he had of his youth. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the crisp wind, refusing to put a warming charm. He took a breath and warm air reached him, like firewhisky sliding down his throat, he could almost taste it on his lips.

"Hello," Harry said once he was at his level.

Draco simply nodded and they stared at the lake together.

"I'd love to do some ice-skating, seems perfect for it," Harry finally said.

"Do some what? Don't try muggle terms on me, Potter. I'm not partial to them," Draco replied, earning a smile from Harry.

"Never mind." The latter moved away while Draco remained where he was.

He was just going to say something when a hard and cold object smacked into the back of his shoulder. He turned round to see Harry standing there with a grin on his face and a snow ball in his hands.

Draco raised an eyebrow and enquired slowly with a sense of politeness, "Do I really look like that kind of person?"

Harry shrugged and threw the snow against the tree. "No, not really I guess," he replied. "You just got that kind of face you want to slap."

"So, Granger has mentioned."

Harry chuckled at that. "Oh that was hilarious," he laughed. "Scarred your pretty little face, did it Malfoy?"

Draco sent him a malicious grin. "Never knew you thought I had a pretty face."

Harry shrugged again and put a foot on the water to test the ice. "It's more common sense really."

Draco thought he might faint. So Harry did find him good-looking, and he had chuckled at what he said. Oh bloody hell, he felt like that teen again... He watched him do his things, putting both his feet on the ice and then crouching down.

Harry passed his hand over the ice, and then peered down.

"Trying to see your reflection Potter?" Draco asked. "Don't you have mirrors in your tower?"

Harry didn't look up but replied, "Nah I'm trying to see if the squid is frozen somewhere there. Might be a good chance to see it."

The Veela approached him. "Are you really that thick? You think the squid freezes every winter and then thaws or something? Like that's its version of winter sleep?"

Harry got up and looked at him sheepishly. "It does sound stupid when you say it like that."

Draco rolled his eyes and started walking on. They talked about this and that, mostly about school stuff, making sure that the conversation stayed light. Draco knew that he'd ruin this fragile, yet somehow precious, little thing that was building between them – but that had been integrated into his DNA a while back – by mentioning things too deep. Too many things had happened between them.

They saw each other again by the lake the following Thursday when Potions was cancelled because Seamus had exploded a cauldron. Draco transfigured a rock into a chess board and they improvised some pieces, so the afternoon was a lot like their usual evenings; only they were out in the open, where everyone could see them; and everyone did. Harry had just lost yet another match when they heard a loud Oi! behind them.

A seemingly quite furious Weasel came up to them and crossed his arms. "You seem cosy," he remarked.

Harry made a move with his knight and replied, "Quite comfy yeah, thanks." Harry finally looked up at him. "Yes Ron? Did you want something?" he enquired.

"An explanation would be nice."

Harry nodded and pointed a bit around him. "Of course. So this is Draco Malfoy, you may have heard of him; and this is a chess board. We are playing chess. Clear enough?" he said.

Draco felt his heart go out to the lad, he was sassy and actually quite sexy that way.

Weasley fumed. "What are you doing with him? You ditched my sister for this?"

Draco got interested at that point.

Harry sighed ad replied, "I haven't ditched her Ron. She sought out a fight with me, and now won't speak to me. I am certainly not chasing her."

"No, you're hunting ferrets instead!"

Harry looked over to Draco with a slight tilt of his neck. "Oh look," he whistled. "I think I caught one. Either that or it's too scared to run away."

Draco actually had to hide a smile at the conversation. Weasley was furious – and oh he does love a furious Weasel.

Weasley was on his last nerves. "You really choose him above us? He's a bloody Death eater who will probably end up killing you anyway! He's a worse back stabber than Dumbledore!" he practically yelled.

Draco stored this for future use.

Harry sighed and got up. "It's not a question of choosing Ron," he started. "Ginny yells at me all the time, and you two snog all the time; which is all fine but then you must accept that I look somewhere else for some peace."

Draco looked between the pair, expecting Weasley to lash out on him, but some truth seemed to dawn on him and he remained calm.

He closed in on Harry and said, "When he becomes a bastard again, don't expect us to be there." He then turned round and walked away.

Harry called after him, "I handle bastards quite well thanks!" He sighed and sat back down by Draco's side. "I'm sorry about that," he breathed. "We sort of had a tiff two days ago and he's been angry at me since."

"I won't ask," Draco replied. "I will however ask you some other questions, if I may."

Harry nodded and moved the chess board out of the way. He then put his back comfortably against the tree. "Fire away."

"Firstly, why do you spend all this time with me? I doubt it must be all that amusing to lose at chess approximately four times a day."

Harry sent him a grin. "Is Drakey-Poo insecure?" he said mockingly, chuckling at himself for a bit and added, "Well basically I'm bored, and you're not boring. Even loosing at chess against you is alright. So these are just my boredom things."

Draco felt a pang at that; that all their time together was just for amusement. He was disappointed that he could understand it. Had his genes not been mashed up and fucked up, he probably would have done the same thing.

"What was the fight about?" Draco asked.

"You wouldn't ask."

"Okay. What did Weasley mean by 'Dumbledore the back-stabber'?"

Harry sent him a smile. "I thought you might catch that. Want to walk for a bit? It's quite a boring story."

Thus they started walking. Harry had even put a new warming charm on both of them, and that simple fact made Draco feel warm. He inwardly cursed himself and wished he felt cold again, just to feel the magic once more.

Harry started, "After Voldemort killed my parents I was sent to my closest kin: Mum's sister and her family, muggles. Basically there was a spell placed upon them which protected me or something, so I had to stay with them. Thing is that they hate Wizards, my mum especially; so I was treated like shit. Won't go into the details but I slept in a cupboard under the stairs, I did the cooking and the cleaning, everything. I was basically a house elf. Dumbledore knew this, but he still sent me back every summer. So ever since we found out that he had known all along, we renamed him the back stabber. End of story."

Draco couldn't keep his eyes off Harry. There was a feeling of anger growing up inside him, while in his head all he felt was confusion. So the rich spoiled famous brat who defeated the dark lord, turned out to really just be a baby thrown in a terrible childhood; or no childhood at all. Draco felt something dying inside of him, in his head and in his genes: he felt his hate, his rage and his jealousy disappear, being replaced by something akin to admiration for this man. He felt his resolve dying and found himself wanting to be near Harry. It was still his genes ruling over him, but they were starting to affect his neurones too.

He frowned at the feeling and said, "Well... stupid fucks."

Harry sent him a pity smile. "Yeah, that they are."

They continued walking on in silence a little more. Draco was at a loss for words. This was his mate, who had been ill-treated! He stopped walking at that image. He had called him his mate, voluntarily. Oh Merlin, his mind was going. He acknowledged it for the first time.

"You okay Malfoy?" Harry asked, observing him closely.

Draco immediately continued walking. "Yeah, fine," he answered.

Harry raised an eye brow at his attitude but otherwise stayed silent. After a moment, he added, "Can I ask you a question now?"

"You just did Potter. Go on."

"Are you a Death-eater?"

Draco froze. He opened his mouth to answer but stopped. He hadn't really thought about it. Normally it would be at the top of his list but since the beginning of school, he hadn't thought of it. He supposed he was. Well he was the son of a Death-eater anyway. He saw his options displayed in front of him: Go against his family or go against his mate? He automatically held his head high. He was, after all, a Malfoy. He would not go against his family, especially not for something as stupid as this would be.

He replied, "None of your business, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes and raised his hands in defence. "And here was me thinking we were having a moment."

Draco looked at him; something was growing in him while something else was dying. From the beating of his heart and the tightness in his throat he supposed it was fear; from his head bowing down to his hunched shoulders, his quickly averted gaze, somewhere a part of him was dying.

His mark started burning again and he groaned, clutching his stomach. The claws beneath his skin were ripping their way to the outside world. The maggots feeding off his brain had found the source of his personality, and they dug themselves in. Pain exploded all over his body, the itch had become a hex, stinging him numb.

Harry was quickly by his side, holding him up by his shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked hastily, checking for signs of an injury.

From the simply touch, Draco immediately thought he would faint. The sheer contrast between himself, his desires and his cravings, between him and the animal was too much. He pulled back before it was too late and yelled, "Don't touch me!" He started running back to the castle, dragging his feet behind him, feeling his animal digging its long claws in his ribs to pull him back. He ran and he ran, feeling sanity leave him at every pained breath.

He locked himself up in his room, crashing onto his bed. He didn't know what was becoming of all this. Those feelings that were not his were starting to get too close to him, he could feel them. He was starting to understand them. He even started to enjoy them, the attention Harry was giving him, albeit only for boredom things. Not only did it make him feel better, but he, like Harry, felt less bored with their growing something. Oh crap, his resolve was dying too.

There will be more real Drarry business from next chapter on! Hope you like and review xxx

*Edited