go2sleep Thank you again for you review! I have indeed always been a bit of a 'drama bunny', I want the feels when I read, and I want them there when I write. Which is why I put so many in there. I hope you like to read that as much I love to write it, because more feelings will come. And as a warning, I will say that next chapter might be my most angsty yet (might be). Cheers! xxx

Chapter Twelve: Between what you do, and what you want.

"How is my father?" Draco asked upon his wake.

Madame Pomfrey bustled round him, looking in closets and mixing things up. She hastily replied, "Minor cuts. He has been taken by the ministry, they will decide of what is to become of him."

Draco simply nodded and finally sat up. He immediately winced. His muscles ached all over his body. Every time he moved he felt like it was stabbing him again. Bloody fucker, he added in his mind. Madame Pomfrey started giving potion after potion. He drank them without question. They were disgusting, as it happens.

She started ranting to him, "You really must be more careful Draco! In your state none of this is allowed to happen. And do not think that I have failed to notice your mark; you still have not approached your mate. It is quite amazing to me that you are still functional at this advanced stage!"

Draco just let it all wash in; he didn't care much at this advanced stage either. He turned his head away. At this advanced stage he just wanted it to be over; he just wanted to die. He wiggled his uncomfortable back and felt that the mark had grown again and not just a bit. Wearing the horrible hospital robs, he saw that it had grown to the top of the skull on the Dark-Mark. He silently thanked Madame Pomfrey for not saying anything about it.

He glanced over at her. "May I leave?" he enquired.

She turned a sharp eye to him, crossing her arms over her chest. "No, you mayn't" she replied. "Have you completely lost your mind? Have you even looked at yourself without that glamour?! You will be here for at least three days I'd say!"

Draco sighed and laid back, hoping that he would be able to have his fits peacefully in there. Actually, he did know what he looked like, and it scared him almost as much as it did anyone else. He saw himself clearly a week prior and he had since then decided to glamour himself before going into the bathroom, to spare himself the sight. He couldn't bear to look at his downfall. Sometimes when he saw himself with the glamour, he could forget that this was all happening. Then of course he would feel a sting or see his skin and it would all come back.

"May I have a private ward at least?" He demanded in superior Malfoy fashion.

Madame Pomfrey whisked her wand over him and his bed lifted. Draco rolled his eyes, expecting nothing else. He crossed his arms as he floated to a little room at the end of the hallway from the main hospital wing. It was a very plain room. Draco was fairly disappointed by the simple decoration, i.e. no decoration. The room was plain white, on open space. There was but a cupboard on the far end of the room. Draco's bed was put down in the centre with plenty of room to manoeuvre on both sides; Madame Pomfrey even brought him a small bed side table and a chair. She left him.

It was then, alone in his bed, that the full weight of his predicament hit him. He stopped for a moment and suddenly burst out laughing. The whole situation was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. He, pureblood and coming from a very proud and noble family line, just happened to be a Veela and Harry Potter's sodding soul mate, on a whim. He just laughed the pain away, laughed the strain and the reality of it all away; but it didn't go. He was still hurting, he still felt heavy; and by it all he realised that it was still real. He pushed the blanket away and stepped out of bed. The floor felt cold underneath his bare feet and he walked with heavy legs. He turned round the room and the simple motion made him feel like spinning. He was looking for something, what he didn't know; he settled for a mirror he found in the corner next to the cupboard.

He almost cried. He was skinny, dangerously so in fact. He gulped and took the robe off. He bit his lip as he caught sight of himself. He could count his bones instead of sheep to fall asleep. His skin, which had become luminous upon his inheritance, was bleak and had numerous traces of bruises all over his body. His blue Veela eyes were dull and gray. He hardly recognized himself. He turned round to look at his back, where the mark was finally forming something. It had the outskirts of something resembling a wing, and it was starting to form a second one. He looked down at his arm, where the mark touched his dark curse. It was growing by the minute. He started scratching again without thinking. His heartbeat went quicker once more, as it dawned on him that he was literally playing with his life.

Oh well, he thought, it's just another nail in my coffin. He grabbed his trousers that were hanging by the foot of his bed. Anything to get out of those horrible robs. He looked round and also noticed with a sigh that his trousers were the only part of his usual combination that was actually in the room. With a hopeful gleam he whispered, "Accio shirt," but nothing flew towards him. He didn't even feel his magic anymore. He sighed and went to the window to look out over the grounds. It wasn't much of a window actually; it was more like a gap in the wall, too high for one to look comfortably out of; but as he looked up to that bit of sky that he could see, he actually felt a little better. He could breathe in without hurting, or without it taking too much effort. He closed his eyes and let himself fall forward towards the outside.

Suddenly, he heard a sharp intake of breath and he turned round quickly, catching his fall. He felt dizzy at the sudden movement and lost his balance. Hands reached out for him and steadied him. They didn't hurt him, they were warm. He kept his eyes closed as Harry led him to bed and put him down. When he finally did look up Harry was holding a hand in front of his mouth and staring at him without truly looking. He seemed furious.

"What the hell is this?!" he yelled. "I knew you used to glamour yourself, but this! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"What is wrong with me?" Draco repeated incredulously. "I get disowned from my family, my father crucios me, I'm in here every bloody week and you think it's my fault?!"

Harry stood up and breathed in and out a couple of times. "Yes it is!" he returned evenly. "You did this, didn't you? You fucking invite this and for what? What do you think you would gain? Money, power, daddy's love?"

Draco turned his head sharply, grabbing Potter by the back of his neck in a fierce grip. "Don't you dare, Potter!" he exclaimed. "You don't have a fucking clue and it's not your fucking business! You have no idea what it's like; at least your parents did love you!" He didn't know why he said that, but suddenly any reason that wasn't the real one seemed good enough. "At least you have half decent friends that invite you for Christmas. You don't get fucking tortured as Christmas present! Don't you dare put me down; you have no idea what it's like."

Harry looked at him, his gaze changed. Draco thought he saw his eyes getting watery.

"You're right," Harry whispered so quietly, Draco had to strain his ears to hear it. He put his hands over Draco arms and the latter couldn't resist his gentle touch.

Soon his own arms were back by his side and Harry's were around his back. He stayed stunned for a moment before seizing the opportunity and returning the embrace. He buried his face in Harry's neck, where he found that famous smell that had him going spare a few weeks back.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured close to him. "I didn't mean anything. I just got worried seeing you like this."

"Don't get sentimental on me, Potter," Draco simply replied.

They stayed like that for a moment before sitting Harry sat down gently by his side, still not looking at each other. Harry fiddled with his fingers as Draco tried his best to pretend to be cold – it gave him a reason to cover his body under the covers.

"So are you depressed?" Harry finally asked.

Draco wanted to say yes, it would fit, but his mind refused to lie anymore. "No" he replied. "All this, it's all medical. I have something of a disease and it looks like this. For now it's at a very sensible stage and I get mood swings. Fact is of course that Lucius' attitude towards me does not help my condition."

Harry nodded slowly, his mind wondering.

Actually Draco hardly lied. He simply did not explain the full sp. Then he frowned and turned his head towards Harry. "But what are you doing here? I thought you were staying with the Weasel's till the 30th," he asked.

Harry got a sheepish, almost shy smile and replied, "Well if you really want to know... I followed you, sort of. You see I've got this map which shows where everyone is inside of Hogwarts," he explained. "I saw when you met your father; I saw when Madame Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid brought you here. So I figured out that he hurt you. I sent a special request to Professor Dumbledore and he allowed me to come back."

Draco looked at him as something welled up inside of him. Harry cared enough for him to actually follow him from a distance. It was almost endearing. He saw the jewel shinning from his neck and added, "Nice necklace, by the way."

Harry looked at it with a smile. "Yes it is, isn't it?" he replied. "A friend of mine gave it to me for Christmas."

They both smiled.

After a while, Madame Pomfrey returned and demanded Harry be away because 'the patient needs his rest'.

"""""""""

"Hey Dray?" Harry called the next evening, when they were still in Draco's private ward.

They were studying. The Slytherin didn't look up from his textbook as he replied a faint, "Hmm?"

Harry sat back on his chair and crossed his arm. "This disease of yours," he started.

"What about it?"

"I can't find it/"

Draco looked up at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Harry pointed at his books with a sigh and explained, "I've spent the day looking in all those bloody books and I can't find anything that comes remotely close to what you have."

Draco frowned and grabbed the books in front of Harry. Magical Ailments, Hanson's book of common Diseases, Mystical Mishaps, the titles read. Draco felt flattered that Harry would do all this research for him, even if it was futile.

He looked back at him. "And you are doing this, instead of doing your assignment?" he said slyly.

Harry didn't even look ashamed or embarrassed, he just shrugged. "It's a lot more interesting. Anyway as I was saying, I can't find it, what's it called?"

Draco turned to him with a thoughtful gaze. He wanted to let it come out, tell him everything; but he knew that he couldn't, not yet. He pretended to think hard on it and then raised his shoulders. "Can't remember. It's a long complicated thing, you know how medical terms are," he said.

Harry looked at him in a curious way and took the books back. "It's funny but I don't believe you."

Draco ignored this and continued studying. He felt a sting in his back and laid back down on the bed in the hope that it would calm down. It didn't. He took a discreet breath and looked at Harry. "You know, this is all sort of draining me so I think you'd better go" he whispered.

Harry observed him and saw in his eyes that it was true. He nodded and gathered his books. "Same time tomorrow, then?"

"You can come sooner if you're up. It's terribly boring in here," Draco added.

Harry smiled and waved his hand before leaving. As soon as the door closed Draco closed his heavy eyes. He reached behind to his back and felt the liquid dripping on his fingers. He started scratching again. Everything itched under his skin, he could try all he liked but he just couldn't reach it. He grabbed a calming draught from by his bedside and drank it all in one go. It sank into his throat in a soothing way and it calmed the dread in his stomach.

Madame Pomfrey came by him and silently deposited a new batch of potions, stating also that if he could please put an end to both their suffering, she would really appreciate. For a moment Draco considered it, telling Harry the truth, or top himself off his broom, whichever seemed easiest.

""""""""

"You know you never told me why one Weasel is talking to you again while you banished the other," Draco asked during lunch the next morning.

Harry gulped down his food and replied, "It's not an overly interesting tail really. Hermione made Ron see sense, Ginny was just being too sensitive, end of story."

Draco took a civilised bite of his apple, which was basically the only thing he managed to swallow nowadays. "Yeah, but is being too sensitive a good enough reason to break up when you love someone, or whatever it is you Gryffindors do?" He added with a discreet afterthought for himself; because he is damned annoying himself.

Harry shrugged. "Don't think I ever loved her. I mean yeah, but I wasn't in love with her/ I don't do too well with that. I suppose she was... she was just convenient I guess. She was there and willing; and not too bad to look at."

"Sounds like a romance to me"

Harry chuckled at that and leaned back with a dreamy smile. "Nah. I guess I am somewhat a romantic at heart, and I think I've still got a good story to come, with someone else. I'd like to believe that," he said.

Draco nearly grabbed his collar to shout at him that his best story was right here; but they were not a dream – yet – they were a nightmare, romantically speaking. Where some part of Draco decided to remain calm, another side of him – his biological side probably – was going spare and did grab Harry; just not by the neck. He had grabbed Harry's wrist firmly in both hands, staring right into his eyes.

"D-Draco?" Harry called anxiously, but Draco did not listen.

He simply looked whilst his fingers softened their hold on his wrist. Harry looked straight at him, a glint appeared in his gaze and he lowered his hand so that it rested against Draco's; the back of his against Draco's palm. The Slytherin looked down at their hold and held his breath. Harry moved closer to him and Draco felt drawn to him like a magnet. His heart beat so fast that he thought it might burst. He could feel the heat emitted from Harry's body; could feel the goose bumps on his arm. They moved closer to each other, up to where Draco could feel his warm breath on his face.

The door opened and they jumped apart. Draco finally let out his breath and forced his hand to go back to his own side. Harry grabbed a book and moved away from the bed.

Madame Pomfrey looked between them but remained silent. She walked over to the cupboard at the other end of the room. "I am afraid, Mister Potter, that I must ask you to leave. I have to conduct my daily examination and for that you must leave. I believe that Mister Longbottom was looking for you," she explained.

Harry nodded quickly and took his stuff. He never looked at Draco when he said, "I'll see you later." He left without another glance even though Draco was searching for his eyes.

Sadness and a dreadful feeling of emptiness reached for him and he hung his head down, hardly caring that someone else was there to see him.

Madame Pomfrey returned to his bedside and handed him a potion. "You haven't told him then?" She asked quietly.

Draco grabbed the potion, furious at her for having interrupted them at such a crucial stage. "None of your business, woman," he spat.

She started waving her wand silently over his body in circular motions. Parts of him went blue under the light and he knew this was bad news.

She gave him another potion, explaining that this was to stop the failing of his organs. "Your body physically needs him; you are already getting weaker and very soon you will be incapable of accomplishing your basic needs," she explained. "From from what I can see, it is clear that your kidneys will probably be the first to go; your liver is not is shape either. All this in continuity with increasing weakness"

Draco simply nodded in acceptance. He knew this was all going to happen.

"You must tell him."

At that something sparked inside Draco and he lifted his head. "I seem to recall telling you that it is none of your business," he snapped. "Oh everyone has an opinion and must be heard to say it. You are all there with your good advice and good ideas, well don't. I do not need your help; and furthermore, I do not want it. Is that understood?"

Madame Pomfrey laid her potions and lunch down; she faced him fairly and squarely. "Now you listen to me, Mister Malfoy," she started evenly. "You are here because you are too stupid to do what is right for you. Your father may have taught you all you need but none of it helps in this situation. You are a Veela, and like it or not, you have a soul mate. I am your nurse, and in that capacity I must heal you; but I cannot do my job with someone who is set on quite literally killing himself. I cannot send you away, but I can force feed you potions to keep you alive. You will die if you insist on keeping up this selfish and stubborn attitude. Now, I have to inform you that the way you are acting is endangering your health, and as your nurse, I must stop you. So, now that that is clear you will shut up, drink your medication and treat me with respect. Is that understood?"

Draco could not fight against her words; they were too true to even try. He resigned himself to that, to the veracity of the situation, and of his stupid decisions. He had received a letter from Blaise before Christmas telling him to get a fucking move on and grab Harry, he never replied. He took the damned potions, even tried to get something to eat inside him. He noticed that Harry had forgotten his cloak on the chair and wanted to pick it up. He knew that at that point it probably wouldn't help. He had been too close to what he wanted to be satisfied by little less.

""""""""

Harry returned awkwardly at his bedside come evening. They did not look at each other, and safe for the simple hi, they did not speak to each other.

Finally Harry took a deep breath and said bravely, "Look Draco, there is something I have to tell you."

Draco gulped down his fear of what could be and looked at him. He couldn't decipher what that look was, but it didn't sooth him. He motioned for Harry to continue.

"I came back for my cloak earlier; and I heard you and Madame Pomfrey talk," he added hastily.

Draco's heart stopped at that. He had heard them, just at that moment. Draco paled – were it humanly possible – and stopped breathing for a moment.

Harry went on explaining, looking at his hands the whole time, "I wasn't really sure at first but I went to the library this afternoon and... it all fits. The way you looked when you came back to school, the pain you felt when someone touched you, the weird attitude you've been having, the way your body is failing and everything. The mark, it was all there." He finally looked up and met Draco's eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Draco was at a loss for words. This... this just couldn't. Harry was not supposed to find out like this, he wasn't supposed to find out at all. The Slytherin breathed and replied, "It's a hard thing to admit."

"Hard to admit?" Harry repeated. "How could you be so stupid? You are dying, have been for months apparently. Don't try to deny it, I know it now. All this time I thought you felt drawn to me, as I felt drawn to you. All this time I thought it was just great, finally something good! And... all this time it was just some magical thing that forces us together! You did not want me, and I did not want you."

"No!" Draco was quick to reply and looked him the eye. "If you had really looked it up then you'd know that that's not true, you idiot. We are soul mates, like it or not. We felt drawn to each other because we are meant to be. I did not choose to want you, granted, but my genes or whatever chose you and I'm fine with that. My inheritance did not force me to want you, and it especially did not make you want me! If you do not want me, then you could be with someone else, I can't. Nothing is forcing you to stay. Don't make this out as if you're the victim."

Harry looked down at him from where he had stood up before. His eyes softened a little and he added, "We're both victims in this Draco. If I wasn't forced to be with you, then that means I wanted to; but I don't think I want this," he pointed between the two of them, "Another bond of sorts, making me do and feel things that are not quite my own. I don't want it, but I don't want you to die."

Draco sighed and kept the tears behind his eyes, shutting them as firmly as possible. "If you don't want it, then don't take it. I wouldn't be satisfied by anything other than the best, and you forcing yourself, is not the best; so just go. Not all Veelas die. Look at this, I've just been rejected and it doesn't even hurt. If you don't want this, then I can't carry it on either. I can't keep hoping; it's killing me. So just go," he lied. It hurt so bad, he could feel it welling up inside of him and all he wanted was for Harry to just leave so he could cave in by himself.

Harry laid a hesitant hand on his arm. "Just wait okay? I just don't know yet, I need time to think it through."

Draco picked up his hand and with the last energy that he could muster he put it away. "Wait with what?" he asked. "Dying? Oh I won't die; it's not on my bucket list. If you mean wait for you, then I don't have much of a choice. A human may have several soul mates, a Veela does not. I cannot be or look for someone else, so I can't do anything else but wait."

Harry took his cloak and turned his back. Draco could guess from the slight quivering of his back what he was doing; his insides turned.

The Gryffindor added silently, "Just give me some time" And he walked away.

Draco couldn't bear to watch so he turned his head. As soon as the doors closed his tears fell freely from his eyes. These were not his genes forcing him to be weak; he got to realise that those genes were the hidden part of him; and that those tears were his own. He sobbed in his cushion, starting to accept that he would die; because even if it wasn't on his bucket list, he supposed that that would be the end of the road, and that he would soon no longer be able to walk.

*Edited