The sound still echoes in his head.
Draco's hands grip the toilet seat with a desperate strength, fingernails digging deep into the porcelain. He gasps for air, chest heaving as his teeth grind against each other to suppress a guttural sob. Fiery tears stream down his face, scorching across his skin.
The sound still echoes in his head.
Draco's fingers curl into pale claws, the tendons straining against his skin as if ready to snap. The metallic scent of blood fills his nostrils, sending a surge of acidic bile up his throat. Images of writhing bodies and splattering crimson flood his mind, memories that he both caused and could have stopped. But now it is too late, and guilt gnaws at him like a ravenous beast.
And the sound. The sickening shrieks that should not be possible for any living being to produce coming from the house elf at the mercy of his wand. He retches violently, spewing the remnants of Dobby's botched breakfast into the water below. It had been mere minutes ago, but it felt like hours.
"Draco?" His father calls accompanied by the sound of knocking on the door of the bathroom he ran to as fast as his twelve year old feet could carry him.
Draco knocks back the potion his mother slipped him before his fathers heavy hand on his shoulder led him away to the 'cellar'. He spells his face dry as his stomach settles and his throat heals. He cancels the silencing charms. He smooths out the wrinkles in his robes and opens the door. His fathers inquiring face waits for him on the other side.
"Yes, father," Draco asks in an almost bored voice, his face a blank mask.
"I'm proud of you son," his fathers says, giving him a rare genuine smile, "You behaved exactly as the heir to the Malfoy's legacy should,"
"Thank you, father," Draco says, a smile forming as the sound grows more distant in his head.
The bright light of his fathers pride always managed to muffle it.
With a sudden jolt, Draco's eyes snap open, his senses immediately assaulted by the bitter taste of bile and the metallic scent of blood that lingers in the air. He can feel his stomach churn at the memories these sensations bring to mind - visions from his past that he can never escape. Desperately, he looks around at the idyllic meadow that surrounds him, the same one depicted in Lily's painting, willing himself to only smell the sweet fragrance of flowers instead of the stench of death. But even as he tries to leave the past behind, he knows deep down that his future in his world is infinitely darker and more treacherous than anything he has faced before.
Harry groans and rolls over as persistent light slices through his eyes. Seconds later his alarm rings. He throws the covers off and frowns hard at the sight that greets him outside of the window.
Hail bangs the glass filling world outside with the sound of annoying pinging. Finally, he thinks something worse than the rain.
He digs into his tool bag that Sirius sent him with in case he needs to make a quick fix before going to Ginny and pulls out his snow socks for his tires. He would unfortunately need them today.
He makes the Dursley's breakfast in a blind haze, managing to sneak two eggs and a piece of toast, because they seem to be as distracted as Harry is by the hail. He feels confident as he pulls into the school's parking lot early, thinking he will not need to eat Draco's apple. This allows him not to give in again to whatever sick twisted game he is playing with Harry, by giving him free fruit. He swings off of his motorcycle and walks over to Ron's truck feeling the insatiable eyes boring into him. Draco, he thinks as he sighs meeting his gold eyes across the parking lot. The screeching of brakes and skidding wheels, followed by a scream breaks his concentration.
As the car careened towards Potter, Draco's heart races with conflicting emotions. He had always believed in Potter's ability to escape any danger, but now, as he stood frozen in fear, he realized that his faith may have been misplaced. The story's voice that he had silenced after killing Potter screams at him once more, begging him not to let this happen. But doing that means crossing a line he vowed never to cross - risking his own safety for his enemy. His tattoo seems to burn against his skin, reminding him of the consequences he would face if he chose to save Potter. And yet, as the seconds ticked by and the car hurtled closer, Draco can't deny the urge to push Potter out of harm's way.
His heightened senses strain against the pressure, urging him to make a split-second decision as his body moves on pure instinct. He propels himself through the storm of icy spheres, violently pushing Potter out of the way and crashing into the hard metal of the van, his back slamming against Weasel's orange monstrosity behind him. The impact rattles the van, but he barely feels it as he reaches out desperately, his hands holding it up with ease.
Potter is thrown backwards, his head colliding with the hard surface of the ground, with a loud thud. Draco lunges forward and scoops Potter up with one arm, swinging legs out of the way, before letting the van settle. He lays Potter in his lap. The smell of sugary sweetness and warmth almost overwhelms him as he clings to Potter's thin unconscious body. He is glad he fed yesterday, or the van would be the least of Potter's troubles.
Potter stirs in his arms, his ugly doe eyes fluttering open. They lock onto Draco's face with an intensity that sends shivers down Draco's spine. As they stare at each other in silent fascination, forgetting about the chaos around them.
"Dra-co?" Potter asks in a wavering voice breaking the spell.
"Shush, pet you're in shock," Draco soothes, stealing the word from Luna's head and pulling Potter closer so his head rests against Draco's chest.
Disgust roils through him but he forces himself to stroke Potter's hair, the soft locks slipping through his fingers like water. Potter lets it happen for a moment, his exhaustion palpable. Draco sneers. Potter's face looks so tired and sweet as if he trusts Draco not to hurt him. Then Potter seems to remember himself and shakes his head furiously, his killing curse eyes shooting through Draco's as he tenses.
"How did you get over here so fast?" Potter demands, his expression too sober for Draco's liking.
He panics for a moment wavering on how to explain away his practical apparition to Potter's side. Then he remembers it is gullible Potter who he is dealing with and gives him a placating smile.
"I was just one car down from you,pe-Swan."
"No, you weren't, you were way over there," Potter says pointing to the other side of the parking lot.
"Harry! Oh my God!" the mudblood screams as a horde of muggles descends around the car squawking like the peacocks at home.
"I am fine, Hermione," Potter says, struggling to get out of Draco's arms.
Draco tightens them in response.
"Don't you dare Swan; you might have a concussion." Draco hisses, consulting Luna's endless stream of panicked thoughts again.
He places his hand on the back of Potter's head and feels the bump, surprised when Potter relaxes in his arms and sighs in relief. Draco grimaces as a loud piercing sound assaults his ears. He glances down at Potter but sees him unaffected by the noise, meaning he most likely can't hear it yet. Sometimes having superior hearing is more annoying than it's worth, he thinks.
"Harry!" The mudblood squeaks in worry, "Listen to Draco he could be right."
Draco resists the urge to growl at the 'could' and focuses on feeling for cracks in Potter's skull.
"Just keep your hand there, please, it feels good." Potter moans leaning into his touch.
Draco feels his dead insides squirm even though he knows Potter is referring to the numbing properties of his cold bloodless hands. The whining noise increases in volume until it feels like hammers pounding on his ear drums. Draco moves to stand up and jump over the cars to get away from the sound but Luna's voice in his head stops him.
Draco do not move, if Harry has a concussion it's important that he stays still. The paramedics and Mrs. Vector are going to pry the cars apart, wait until they check him out.
"Harry the ambulance is here." the mudblood says, peeking over the crushed cars yet again.
Behind her Professor Vector and what Draco assumes are the two paramedics, utilise a strange muggle machine to render an opening between the crushed metal.
Potter stiffens in his arms, his body unconsciously shifting into Draco's as if he can merge with him.
"No, I don't need them," Potter says in a tight voice.
"Harry, you hit your head, you need to get it checked out," the mudblood insists, running between the cars once Professor Vector and the paramedics move back.
"I'll drive to the doctor on my own then, I don't want an ambulance," Potter says in a harsh voice, his eyes darting to the newly opened escape route.
Draco hears Potter's heart accelerate and his breathing turn into harsh pants. The acid in his throat bubbles as Potter's scent grows stronger. He thinks about Potter stumbling to the hard pavement when he tries to walk and the strenuous effort he exerted to save Potter from certain death. In reaction, his arms turn to stone around twitching Gryffindor twat.
"Harry, that's dangerous! You could crash on your motorcycle in the state you are in right now-"
"I'll take him." Draco finds himself saying, lifting Harry's prone body as he stands, the acerbic scent of Potter's fear making his nose wrinkle.
Potter squirms against his grip, his pupils dilating to cover up the merciless beauty of his green eyes, making him look like a wild-cornered animal.
"Draco put me down," Potter hisses in a voice as cold and hard as Draco's skin.
"You'll fall and your friend will have even more reason to force you to use the ambulance you so dread." Draco bites back, shouldering around the stunned paramedics.
The mudblood seems to be explaining to them that Potter refuses their services, and to focus on Collin. Draco feels the slight pressure of Potter's fingers on his arm and observes his hand making pincer motions. He smirks as Potter's fingers keep skating off his skin.
"Are you trying to pinch me Potter?" He asks with a laugh.
Potter growls his hands turning into ineffectual claws as he scrambles against Draco's iron-like hold.
"Put me down," Potter hisses in such a perfect imitation of the Dark Lord's parseltongue that Draco almost drops him then and there.
He steels himself against the desire and meets Potter's stubborn eyes that look similar to how they usually do before Potter lets off a dangerous curse or explodes in waves of otherworldly power. Draco feels like he cradles a muggle bomb that Blaise told him about when he explained the world war Theo participated in as a human.
"I'll scream," Potter whispers, breaking him away from his thoughts.
Draco's mind races as he surveys the situation. He could risk Potter screaming and drawing the attention of the paramedics and the students in the parking lot into thinking he is a kidnapper or Potter falling down and scraping his hands or knees and bleeding in front of him. Potter shifts again, his restless legs kicking against Draco's arm and Draco feels his patience wearing thin. His eyes narrow in annoyance. How does the Order put up with this reckless child for more than a minute?
"You are going to hold onto me and if you so much as stumble, because you are trying to move too fast, I will pick you back up whether you scream or not,"
His irritation must have shown on his face because Potter shoots him a glare before reluctantly nodding in agreement. Draco lowers Potter's feet to the ground, keeping one arm securely around his shoulders to support him. They stumble across the parking lot, Potter swaying on unsteadily shaking legs, but Draco's grip remains firm each time he stumbles. And though he fights the urge to smirk at Potter's obvious struggle, he can't help but notice the determined expression that takes over his face, reminiscent of the one he wore during the Triwizard Tournament. He almost…admires it. The mudblood hovers anxiously next to them, whispering words of encouragement, while the Weasel trails behind with a look of white-faced worry.
Despite their slow progress, they eventually see Draco's car. But just as they do, Potter stumbles once again. Without hesitation, Draco swoops in and catches him under the arms for the third time before pulling Potter back up and depositing him firmly on his feet. Though red-faced with embarrassment after each time it happens, Potter remains silent until they finally reach the safety of the car, as if daring Draco to make good on his promise.
Draco unlocks the car. The mudblood looks at him with big imploring eyes full of gratitude and Draco bites back the derisive comment that is dying to slip out of his lips. He starts to help Potter into the back seat of his Volvo, but Potter shoves his hands off muttering,
"I can do it." in a stubborn voice.
Potter crawls on weak, shaky arms and legs but manages to collapse on the seat, his face panting into the leather.
"Thank you so much for helping Harry, Draco. I'm not sure what I would have done with Ron's truck….out of commission. Ron picked me up today, otherwise, I would of course drive him, and Ron's cousins rode with Lee…and we wouldn't have all fit. And I'm not sure Harry would let anyone else he has-." the mudblood babbles.
"Hermione!" Potter exclaims, managing to turn on his back and glare at her.
Draco steals the word from her head easily enough. So famous little Potter struggles with trust issues Draco thinks in amusement, looking at the exhausted boy laying back on his leather seats.
"Harry, your seatbelt," the mudblood says as she clambers over Potter and attaches the belt for the middle seat around his waist.
Draco resists the urge to stop her and lets the mudblood infect his car with her nasty mudblood germs and scent.
"Thanks, Mione." Potter says in a drowsy voice.
"Anything for you Harry, we will meet you at the hospital," Hermione says.
That seems to wake Potter up. He stains against the seatbelt as he tries to sit up.
"Hermione, you will miss class," Potter claims, smelling of pure panic.
"This is more important," Hermione says in a determined voice.
"But we have a test in French today!" Potter argues.
The mudblood's face falters as Draco stifles his gasp of surprise at the fact that Potter takes French. Draco wasn't aware he was fully proficient in one language much less working on two. Potter shoots the Weasel a significant look while the mudblood looks down in worry.
"Didn't you tell me that Mrs. Vector was doing an important lesson today that she recommended no one miss." the Weasel says.
The mudblood gasps and her eyes widen in fear as she looks at Harry, who returns the gaze with a cool, detached expression.
"Harry I'm really-"
Draco ignores the girl's internal and verbal struggle as he gracefully slides into the driver's seat and starts the car. The engine rumbles to life, its powerful roar filling the air. When the mudbloods apologetic voice fades away and the door slams shut he pulls out of the parking spot.
As he drives, Draco catches whiffs of Potter's scent drifting towards him, a heady mix of wood and something sweet that makes his mouth water with desire.
Draco smirks as he adjusts the settings on his car, turning on the heated seats and watching as Potter visibly relaxes against the warmth. He can't help but notice how underdressed Potter is for the weather, his black denim shorts and tight thin black Sabbath t-shirt no match for the chilly early October air outside. On top of that Potter grew up in a much warmer climate, his body must still feel the shock of the transition to its new environment and require more clothes than locals. It's almost comical how little Potter seems to care about dressing appropriately though, always opting for oversized and ripped clothes that give off a rebellious vibe. Caring more about his image than logic.
As they drive, soft piano music plays through the car speakers, adding to the moody atmosphere. Draco takes a deep breath and inhales Potter's scent again, this time picking up on a hint of sadness that hangs in the air. He wonders briefly what could be troubling Potter before dismissing it from his mind.
Navigating through the lingering students at the scene of the accident, Draco focuses on driving smoothly and safely. But even as he keeps his eyes on the road, his senses are filled with nothing but Potter - his scent, the music of his heartbeat, his presence next to him in the car. And for once, Draco doesn't mind it one bit.
"Debussy?" Potter asks and Draco spies him in the rearview mirror on his side with his cheek resting against the warm leather, his expression interested.
"How did you know?" Draco asks in a curious voice.
He knows his Potter isn't musically inclined, but this Potter seems to be full of surprises if the way he cuddled into Draco was any indication.
"My father used to play it. It was one of his favorites. Or so I am told, I don't remember much about my parents. Sirius, my Godfather still plays sometimes when he is home."
Draco tries to picture James Potter the lazy troublemaker that his mother and father painted for him playing the piano and fails. Then he remembers that in this universe James married Regulus Black his cousin. The most obvious candidate for a piano player between the two of them, if his mother's stories about the origin of his musical talent ring true.
"What do you mean when he is home?" Draco asks, feeling a twisted sense of retribution as the scent of sadness coming off of Potter grows stronger.
This is what it feels like to miss someone close to you, you buffoon, Draco thinks vengefully. Potter flushes as if someone caught him out in a lie. Or as if he said more than he meant to, Draco corrects, wishing once again that he could read Potter's thoughts.
"He travels sometimes for the stunts that he performs and for Remus's games," Harry says in a quiet voice, his eyes glued to the world passing by out of the car window.
The werewolf Draco thinks, an idea going off in his head as he remembers the gossip about the dementor attack on the train and how Lupin gave Potter chocolate afterwards. Pulling to the side of the road, Draco digs into his glove department and pulls out a bright blue box embossed with a gold crown, passing it back to Potter.
"Fancy a chocolate, Potter?" Draco asks him.
Harry takes the box, reading the names 'Debauve & Gallais', and smelling the intense smell of cocoa powder drifting out of the box as he removes the top. Harry blinks in surprise at the almost jewel like chocolates that rest nestled in the dividers. Harry hesitates as he stares at the truffles, not sure if he should take one or not.
"Draco, are you sure? These look expensive."
"Please, take one. I recently found out that I'm allergic." Draco says in a mild voice, though Harry thought a trace of annoyance played under those words.
"What about your family? Surely, they will want to try some."
"My entire family is allergic," Draco says in a flat voice.
"Oh," Harry says, unsure how else to reply as he picks up a pink rose-shaped one and pops it in his mouth.
A low, guttural groan escapes his lips as he savors the rich, velvety flavor of dark chocolate melting across his tongue. Mixed within is a delicate hint of mint, a refreshing contrast to the smooth sweetness. Underlying it all is an earthy flavor, like a freshly cut meadow or a steaming cup of green tea. Each taste lingers on his taste buds.
"Draco…this is…this is wow." Harry says as warmth infuses his body, soothing the bittersweet sadness he felt at hearing Clair de lune play on the stereo.
Draco chuckles as he pulls back onto the road.
"I am glad that you like it, the box is yours." Draco says in a velvet voice.
Harry feels himself flush.
"Oh-Draco I couldn't." Harry stammers.
"Nonsense, who in my house is going to eat them?"
"You could try to return them?" Harry asks hopefully noticing only two truffles missing.
"They are from France, so it's a little difficult to do that."
"France?" Harry chokes out.
Draco glances at him in the rearview mirror as if concerned.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, that's just a long way for chocolates," Harry says in a small voice.
Draco narrows his eyes, surveying Harry with a quiet expression.
"I only accept the best," Draco says in a serious tone.
Harry is about to reply when he notices them pulling into the hospital parking lot. Harry feels his panic return all at once, his heartbeat skyrocketing and his breathing going uneven. He forgot in his conversation with Draco about the prospect of going to the hospital.
"Potter, what's the matter?" Draco asks in a tight voice.
"I'm fine. I'm more than fine actually. I really don't need to go to the hospital, I just need rest that's all. If you could just take me back to my aunt and uncle's house I would appreciate that." Harry says in an even voice.
Draco gives him an odd-searching look and then shakes his head, stepping out of the car. He opens the door by Harry's feet and crawls over Harry's body until his face hovers inches above Harry's, his hands on either side of Harry's head. Harry shifts uncomfortably under him as Draco's intoxicating minty apple scent caresses over him. Draco gives him a pointed glare, his yellow eyes flashing in a clear sign of danger.
"You will unless you would like me to call Granger and tell her that you refused to go in." Draco threatens between gritted teeth.
Harry feels a spike of worry until he remembers something.
"You don't have her number."
A slow smile spreads across Draco's face as he digs into his pocket and pulls out Harry's phone. On the screen Hermione's picture smiles back at him as Draco's thumb hovers over the call button. He deflates in defeat.
"I am willing to go to any means necessary. Do remember that next time you decide to challenge me." Draco says with a sneer, his cool breath washing over Harry's face.
Harry grimaces mentally thinking how much it will cost him of Sirius's latest infusion of cash to pay for the medical bills. Then he thinks of the perfect way to dissuade Draco from letting him go without a check-up.
"If you make me go in, I'll refuse to pay because you forced me to go under duress and it's a waste of money. That will cause a scene and it will be very embarrassing for you," he says.
Draco just smiles, his ice-cold hand sliding under Harry's shoulders and leveraging him up and out of the car.
"I'll pay," Draco whispers close to his ear, sending shivers that have nothing to do with the cold and his inadequate clothing down his spine.
Draco tilts his head in thought and shrugs out of the fur-lined half cloak embroidered with silver dashing foxes and green slithering snakes that he wears. Harry, long since used to Draco's unusual wardrobe, hardly notices what he wears anymore except to admire the stylized aspects of it. Draco drapes it over Harry's shoulder, wrapping his biting scent around him. Harry moves away from him in irritation.
"You can't just throw your money at every problem," Harry says through gritted teeth.
He can't bring himself to take the coat off though, it's so warm.
"I can when my fathers the doctor and I ask him to see you for free. Now come along." Draco says snatching Harry's arm and half dragging him towards the entrance.
"Draco, wait." Harry says stopping in his tracks, "I'll go without protest if you promise to tell me how you stopped the car from killing me. What you did shouldn't have been possible."
Draco must see from Potter's immovable stance that pulling him along will cause more problems than solve them.
Draco gives him a furious look, and then grits his teeth and spits out, "Fine," and stalks through the door, not bothering to see if Harry follows.
The receptionist at the desk jumps in her seat when she sees Draco, her eyes getting the same glazed look that many others get when faced with his full intensity.
" , your father is busy seeing clients at the moment, but you are welcome to wai-"
"Inform my father that there is a patient that he needs to see immediately," Draco says in a hard uncompromising voice.
"It really is-" Harry begins to protest before Draco cuts across him turning the full force of his eyes on him.
"Immediately." He repeats as Harry shudders back.
Draco doesn't wait for a response as he drags Harry down an unknown hallway, throwing carelessly over his shoulder the words,
"We will be in my father's office."
Potter squirms in the seat next to him, his scent an uncomfortable smell of nerves and sweat. Draco hears Severus's footsteps long before he reaches the door and the annoyance echoes in every step. Some things never change even in an alternate universe.
The door slams open behind them and Potter jumps, his little rabbit heart dancing in his chest. Severus whirls past them, his white lab coat fanning behind him the same way that his bat wing-like robes did in Potions. He drops down into the seat behind his desk, his and fixes Potter with a brief look of astonishment before disappearing behind his mask of indifference. Draco probes the edges of his mind but finds that once again he is unable to get in.
"Is this the reason you pulled me away from my patients?" Severus asks with a slight nod at Potter.
Draco can tell from the tightening of his face that Severus is holding back a sneer. Potter notices as well from the slight tensing of his body beside Draco.
"This is Harry Swan. He was almost hit by a car today. He hit his head and I thought that he should be checked out." Draco says in an even voice.
Draco thinks that he hears Severus mutter under his breath the famous Mr. Swan, but he can't be sure without asking.
"Is there a reason for your complete disregard to standard operating procedures? Dr. Snow would have been available to see him."
"You're the only one I trust."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Draco."
Draco knows from the slight widening of his eyes that Severus is lying. What sort of Circe cursed lout was his former vampire self that he made Severus look surprised by a mere compliment from him?
"Sir, I feel perfectly fine, you do not need to waste your time," Potter says in a polite voice.
Fast as light Draco taps against the wound on the back of Potter's head, watching in amusement as he flinches and glares at Draco.
"Ow!" Potter yelps scowling.
"Forget about it so fast?"
"Draco," Severus hisses, causing Draco to stiffen, "If your friend is injured as you say, then it's imprudent to cause more damage to him."
"Sorry," Draco mutters, not feeling an ounce of shame.
"Follow me, Mr. Swan, before my son injures you beyond repair," Severus says in a drool voice, getting up and leading Potter to the examination room attached to his office.
"Shut the door behind you," Severus says, causing Potter to glance back at him as if checking for instructions.
He gives Potter a small smile and a nod, he is telling the truth he does trust Severus not to drain or damage Potter before Draco needs to for the story. Draco does question the amount of caring for his victim he seems to be forced to do, but he guesses that the vampire in him enjoys gaining his prey's trust before pulling the sheet out from under them. Draco certainly enjoys fighting and tricking Potter into accepting his help. He listens with half an ear to the questions Severus asks as he rules out a concussion or any brain damage. Draco lets out tension he didn't even realise he is holding at that. He would hate for Potter to die from some muggle ailment.
Severus emerges with Potter a few minutes later, declaring Potter free to go back home. He holds Draco back though when he attempts to follow Potter out. Draco turns to Severus in curiosity, knowing Potter won't get far from him without a car.
"Your friend is unusually underweigh for his age category and his body is covered in bruises."
Draco frowns at that testament, having come to a similar conclusion himself but not liking that Severus, an expert at muggle mind and body in this world, to confirm it.
"He does perform reckless stunts for money, I read on the internet," Draco says in an indifferent voice.
Severus raises his eyebrows at him, but if it is because he is surprised by his tone or that he did research on a muggle it is hard to tell.
"These are much too recent. If you care for him like you claim, I would keep an eye on him. He seems to be accident-prone."
Draco smirks.
"He does seem to attract danger," he says, thinking about all the times that Potter made a miraculous escape at the end of each school year.
"Make sure he eats; his blood sugar is particularly low after his ordeal. I forced him to drink some orange juice, but he needs something more." Severus says.
"What am I his nanny?" Draco grouses.
Severus levels him with one unimpressed look.
"You took responsibility for him the moment you dove in front of the minivan to save him. Don't think Pansy didn't text me as soon as she saw you."
Draco flinches still feeling a sense of guilt to his and Severus's cause for saving the Saviour, even if it was in the name of saving his parents.
"Yes, fine, I'll make sure he eats," Draco says, flinching in reflex at his tone and how his parents would react if he used it on them.
Severus looks unsurprised.
"Good. And prepare for a battle when you get home, Pansy will not let go of the danger your reckless actions have thrown us in easily." Severus says, his voice holding a dire warning.
A warning Draco would take more seriously if he didn't know that he needed to be where Potter is to continue the plotline.
"I'm not worried," he says, knowing that Luna and Lily will take his side.
If he has Luna, then he has Theo. Blaise will take Pansy's side at first but he knows from experience that Blaise can be swayed to see the more reasonable side of things given proper motivation.
"On your head, son," Severus says, returning to his work as if the conversation never happened.
"I presume my bill will be coming from your account?"
"Yes," Draco sighs, accepting Potter as his responsibility.
Harry's eyes stay glued on Draco as he starts his car and fiddles with the GPS on his dash.
"You promised," Harry says, fidgeting under the weight of the unanswered question.
He hates not knowing things, especially things that explain why he is alive when he shouldn't be.
"Promised what?" Draco asks in a distracted voice.
Harry scowls, but remains silent, making Draco wait. When Harry refuses to answer, Draco turns away, his face disinterested.
"I am hungry, so we are getting food."
"I am not hungry," Harry says, ignoring the faint rumbles of his stomach, "And you promised to tell me how you stopped that car."
"I promised to tell you, I didn't specify when. If you're good and let me buy you a meal, maybe I'll tell you afterwards."
Harry gapes at him unsure how Draco slipped so easily out of his agreement. Draco smirks at him like he hears his stomach too and types something into his GPS.
"Starting directions for Tête de Porc." the robotic voice says.
Harry frowns at Draco as he turns onto the main road, still ignoring him.
"You want to go to the Hog's Head?" Harry asks in confusion.
"I thought it would give you a chance to practise your French, Luna says you are falling behind."
Harry glares at him, "She does not, she knows as well as anyone in the class that I am fluent."
Draco raises his eyebrows in surprise.
"How did you manage to become fluent in French?"
Harry shrugs.
"Sirius taught me. My father and he were both expected to learn both languages growing up and he thought it would be useful for me to know. Can you speak French, Mr. Fancy pants?" Harry challenges.
Draco's eyes burn into his eyes before he turns away looking reluctant.
"No," Draco says, looking like the concession cost him something.
The look reminds Harry of the moment when he realized no matter what he did he would never receive the Dursley's love or attention. Because he's a freak. Harry hesitates, still mad at Draco for tricking him earlier, but seeing him so upset makes his stomach burn with acid.
"I could teach you if you want," Harry says in a grudging voice.
Draco gives him a slow smile, "That's very sweet of you Swan, but I find it more advantageous in this situation to remain ignorant."
Leaving Harry to wonder what the hell he could mean by that.
The meal went about as expected with Potter being such an utter twat, Draco thinks as Potter sits beside him in the front seat giving him a determined glare. There were a few things that threw him off his game.
The first surprise being the appearance of Madam Rosmerta and her absurd protective instincts towards Potter. He still feels guilty about imperioing her in his world, but not enough to back down from her searching glances and probing questions as she tried to pin down his intentions like some Pure-blood mother protecting her child's virtue. Another was the friendliness of Aberforth to Potter.
Though he admits most of it comes from Draco's cousin's loan to help him start his restaurant and his letter of recommendation to the French Culinary school, the dean, a friend of his cousin's uncle, that he went to. Not that Potter accomplished any of that, but as usual he manages to take the benefit of others' good deeds, Draco thinks with a sneer.
"Draco, you promised," Potter says in a sharp voice, bringing his mind back to the present, where his car is parked in front of Potter's large house.
"There's a concept that allows mothers to-"
"Yes, yes, I know all about that. It doesn't explain how you managed to save me. You do not even like me," Potter says with shrewd eyes trained on him, "And you can't get out of telling me with more food. I demand an answer."
The look in Potter's eyes tells him that he plans on hunting the answer to the ends of the earth. Draco feels panic take over, his senses blurring as he feels himself start to get sloppy. Then he takes a breath. Un, deux, trois. He remembers.
He is a Malfoy.
He is a Cullen.
He is a vampire.
He is the hunter and Potter is the prey.
"Get out of my car." Draco hisses.
Potter's face breaks out into an expression of surprise.
"What?" Potter asks.
"I said get out." Draco says in a low threatening voice.
"But-"
"I barely know you, Swan. I saved your life, paid for your hospital bills, and your dinner. Yet you demand things of me that I can't give you. Did you not consider for a moment that it does not concern you? That I was keeping the information back to protect my family from the same relentless gossip that follows you wherever you go."
Potter shrinks back at his words; the hurt and guilty expression all Draco needs to see to know his words hit the intended mark. He gets a moment to preen and admire a cowed Potter before the expression burns away. Draco smells the scent of Potter's angry, burnt treacle with a hint of caramel, and draws his mouth in a tight line as Potter leans forward his nose inches from his.
"I didn't ask you to, so I owe you nothing," Potter growls in a dangerous voice, "I will figure out what you are hiding."
Draco clenches his teeth to keep from lunging at Potter and holding him down while he bites him.
"I hope you enjoy disappointment then." he sneers.
Potter scowls as he slams the door behind him.
Later as Draco is walking into his home he thinks that pissing Potter off might not be a productive way to woo anyone. Pansy is the first to give him this clue when he storms into the living room and finds her, and the rest of the family assembled on the couches. They all sit still as the statues in Luna's garden watching the debate as if this argument decides the fate of the world.
Draco grimly thinks it decides his.
Pansy's eyes lock onto his, her spiced pear and vanilla scent choking the tense midnight air.
"Draco, what have you done?" She hisses her face livid as she throws the newspaper displaying Draco's body curled around Potter down on the coffee table.
The news report about them drones on the tv in the background.
"What I needed to do to protect my family," Draco growls, falling back on the old Malfoy tradition that defends all actions.
It didn't matter that Pansy would assume he meant the Cullens.
"For the family?" Pansy spits looking incredulous, "The only thing you were thinking of when you dove in front of that car was your dick."
Draco ignores the fierce buzzing in his head of the thoughts of all his siblings trying to break through his concentration. He draws his mouth in a thin line and stalks towards Pansy until they stand mere inches apart and says in the quiet dangerous voice his father uses when Draco disappoints him,
"And what do you think would have happened when that boy's blood was spilt, hot and tempting all over the pavement? To Theo who exists suspended over a cliff ready to fall. To me, who craves his blood above nothing else."
Draco catches Luna as she looks at Theo with a worried expression and knows he has won. Lily's eyes darkened with sadness and Severus pulls her close whispering something unheard in her ear. Even Blaise's stoic expression twitches a little. No one can deny that it would have resulted in a massacre. Only Pansy remains sure of her position.
"Your control is unmatched and you already resisted once. You knew what was going to happen seconds before it did, you and Theo could have run away! You should have run away."
"There is no distance far enough to stop the temptation that Harry presents me with. Even with hundreds of miles between us, I thought about his blood night and day. I would have slaughtered anyone who stood between me and consuming him." Draco says his voice almost in a trance as he remembers the taste of Potter's blood rushing in sweet delirium over his tongue.
"There's a solution to this, even if no one wants to say it out loud," Theo says.
Draco slips into his mind and stumbles back at the fierce level of anger he feels at Theo's thoughts.
"Theo, no!" Luna gasps in horror.
Theo ignores her as he glances at Draco.
"I'd make it quick, Draco, he wouldn't feel a thing."
Draco feels a snarl growing in his chest. He didn't care how gently Theo slaughtered Potter, he was Draco's to kill, no one else's.
Pansy rallies herself as she glares at Draco.
"Those are the options to cleaning up this mess, darling. Either we put Swan in a permanent sleep or Draco moves,"
Draco slips into Luna's brain as the possibilities play out in her mind. He sees himself stopping Theo at every turn when he tries to kill Potter. Luna looks distressed as they flit past her, each one Draco and Theo getting more and more violent.
"Theo, please, he's not a danger to us, I don't see him giving us away." Luna begs.
Theo looks at her and Draco can tell from a glance in his mind that he is melting. Draco bites back a sneer, he always knew Theo was a weakling, this is just more proof. But at the moment it benefits him.
Pansy throws her gaze around the room, noticing for the first time her declining support and scowls, her face shutting down.
"You are driving the nails into our coffin by doing this," she hisses, "One day you are going to regret choosing him over your family."
She storms out of the room, Blaise a blur behind her. Luna gives him a pitying glance before she disappears and Theo gives him an appraising look, his expression torn. Severus nods at him once acknowledging a decision made by the unspoken vote of the family.
Severus gestures for him to follow him and leads him to his office upstairs. He shuts the door and settles behind his desk with a resigned expression. Draco sits across from him, uncomfortable at once again being blocked from Severus's mind.
"I should have done this when you first lost your memory, but I was selfish. I wanted to forget and to put it behind us at last. I also wanted to spare you the pain of remembering." Severus says at last.
"What are you talking about?" Draco asks feeling panic seeping into him.
"You're making this decision without all the cards in your hands. There are things about this world that you don't understand."
"I understand perfectly. My decision is made, there's nothing you can say to change my mind," Draco says in a dismissive voice starting to stand up.
"I don't think you do. You had an entire life before I met you. Parents who loved you, that you were forced to give up." Severus says in a dark voice.
If Draco's body allowed him to cry, he knew that he would be bawling. As it was, he frowns.
"Severus, I don't care to hear anything about the pathetic coward I was in my 'past' life. I need Harry. There's nothing you can tell me that will convince me to give him up."
Severus sighs, "You were never a coward, son. In this life or your other one. You are one of the bravest men I had the honor of knowing."
Draco didn't believe that. He knows he is a coward every time he feels relief that he doesn't have to face another day under the dark lord's thumb. In a way, he is safe here under the protection of his messed-up spell.
"Then you know I can't leave him here to face this alone. Nor will I let our family be driven out of the place we call home,"
Severus sighs one of his long-suffering sighs and places his head in his hands.
"I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to convince you, but if you change your mind and do want to hear about your past, you know where to find me,"
Draco feels an echo of deja vu, thinking about how Severus offered the same help with the tasks given to him by the dark lord. It makes him wonder how much the story is pulled from the real world and how much is pulled from his mind. Draco leaves the office and returns to the living room where Lily still waits for him. She opens her arms to him and Draco walks over to her at a sedated human pace and sinks into them, letting her smooth back his hair.
"You love him, don't you," Lily says, her heartbreaking and fragile voice framed as a statement, not a question.
Draco nods without lifting his head to meet her eyes, it is easier to agree with her than to explain the real reason for his obsession. Pansy is wrong, there is nothing he will not do for his family, even if it means changing tactics and following along with where the story pulls him.
That night Harry dreams of Draco. In the dream, Harry stumbles just behind a dark-cloaked Draco through a familiar forest of menacing trees. The air is thick with a malevolent presence and the fog seems to swallow him whole. No matter how hard he tries, he can never catch up to Draco as they move through the eerie landscape. Just when Harry thinks he's lost him, the landscape shifts into a dark, slimy tunnel that drains all the warmth from his body.
"Draco?" Harry calls out frantically, his voice echoing off the putrid walls.
He can see Draco's dark figure up ahead, but he doesn't slow down or even look back at Harry. It feels like hours pass as they continue until they finally reach a chamber with a massive stone head looming over them. As Draco turns around to face him, Harry realizes with horror that his face is covered by a silver mask etched with swirling patterns.
Before Harry can process this betrayal of Draco being a Death Eater, Draco raises his wand and his eyes flash with pure malice. A deadly curse hangs between them until Draco's lips suddenly curl into a sneer.
"Kill him," he hisses, and the stone head slides open to reveal a monstrous snake.
Its eerie yellow eyes bore into Harry's soul, and he felt himself fading away.
Harry wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air as the memories of his nightmare still linger in his mind. He sees Draco's blurry face staring at him from outside his window. In a panic, Harry reaches for his glasses to find an empty window, when he gets them on.
He laughs at himself for being so foolish as he lays back down but then the question of what a Death Eater is gnaws at his thoughts until he slips back into a restless sleep.