The Devil Runs Wild

******~Malfoy~

The kitchen grew quiet and Harry instantly regretted having said anything at all. The silence drew on and he became even more nervous, if that were possible. Finally, Snape spoke.

“Lucius?” Snape asked and drew his face in a look of concentration and Draco’s mouth gaped open.

Harry, realizing that they had mistaken what he had said, breathed a great sigh of relief and looked up.

“Severus?” Dumbledore asked, seeing that Severus was calculating something.

“I have not seen him doing much at all lately, but that could be a ploy. I’ll keep a closer watch over him,” Severus said. Yes, Snape had seen Lucius at meetings and such but he appeared to be as out of the loop as the rest of the Death Eaters. There must be something more to it, however, and Severus was determined to figure it out.

Draco got up and left the kitchen. Severus sighed. Draco hadn’t wanted to talk about his father ever since he had found out that Lucius hadn’t even attended the memorial service his mother had had for him. Lucius hadn’t even shed a tear for his son. Instead, he praised the Dark Lord for getting rid of the “weaklings.” Severus sighed again. There had been a time in which Severus believed Lucius had grown into a man with feeling….but then the Dark Lord returned.

“I should be leaving as well,” Severus said, nodding his goodbye at Dumbledore, and apparating away.

Harry didn’t even see Snape go, still looking toward the hallway Malfoy had just disappeared down and thinking about why Draco had left so suddenly.

“Harry?” Dumbledore said, startling Harry out of his thoughts. “Have you thought about what I said before? About building a relationship between you and Draco?”

Harry nodded his head.

“Perhaps this would be a good time to do so,” Dumbledore said.

*******~Relationship Building~

Draco was pacing back and forth in his room trying to forget everything he had just heard but failing miserably at it. Now his thoughts were limited to his father. His father hadn’t even cared that he died - well, he hadn’t actually died, true, but his father didn’t know that! At least his mother had cared enough about him to throw him a memorial service. He had wanted to let her know that he was still alive but Severus had said that it would be too dangerous now that she was required to attend all the recent meetings and therefore, be in the presence of the Dark Lord a great deal more than she had before. His mother wasn’t as good at hiding her thoughts from the Dark Lord.

His father was strict on him when he was growing up, sure, but Draco had believed that it was because he cared. He obviously didn’t and that shattered Draco’s illusions of him completely. He had admired his father, looked up to him, loved him and his father didn’t give a lick about him.

“Damnit!” Draco said and slammed his fist against the wall.

“What’s wrong?” a voice said and Draco looked up to glare at his unwelcome visitor.

“Merlin, Potter, don’t you knock?” Draco growled and Harry looked confused.

“The door was open, Malfoy,” Harry pointed out and that just made Draco glare harder.

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco said but not with as much spite as before and continued pacing. Upon reaching the opposite wall, Draco realized that Potter offered a satisfactory distraction from his thoughts and instead of telling Potter to leave, he turned around and barked out, “What do you want?”

“I wanted to know what’s wrong,” Harry said. “Why did you just get up and leave like that?”

Draco examined Potter. Potter was in his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt. The jeans were alright, not as frayed as the other pair Draco had seen him in before but the shirt was completely the wrong color for him.

“That shirt makes you look like a troll,” Draco said.

Harry was thoroughly confused by the unexpected change in topic and didn’t know what to say at first. Then he realized that Malfoy was insulting him.

“Hey!” Harry said, affronted.

“Is that the best you can do?” Draco asked and chuckled at the delayed come-back.

“Shut up!” Harry said, gritting his teeth. Merlin, didn’t Malfoy realize that he was trying to build a relationship with him?!

“And those shoes, Potter. Do you even clean them?” Draco said, still chuckling. “And your hair. Have you ever heard of a comb? And those ugly glasses,” Draco scoffed and continued listing things.

Harry looked down at his shoes. What was wrong with his shoes!? They weren’t even dirty, as far as he could tell. Malfoy was clearly trying to get a rise out of him and Harry didn’t like it at all, but Dumbledore trusted Malfoy and Harry wanted to know why. The only way he was going to be able to trust Malfoy was if he questioned him under Veritaserum and he would have to get Malfoy to trust him in order to get him to take it.

“Malfoy, I just wanted to know what was wrong,” Harry said, sighing.

Malfoy stopped his continuous insults and gapped at Potter. Malfoy couldn’t believe that Potter wasn’t insulting him back. That’s how it worked between them, that’s what they did and Potter chose NOW to be nice. Damnit!

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Malfoy screamed.

Harry, taken aback, just stared at Malfoy who looked majorly pissed off. Apparently, being nice to Malfoy just made matters worse.

“Um…” Harry said. “I just wanted to know what was wrong, is all.”

“You wanted to know what’s wrong, did you!?” Malfoy sneered. “I’LL TELL YOU WHAT’S WRONG! YOU! THAT’S WHAT’S WRONG! YOU STUPID, BRAINLESS, DIM-WITTED, IDIOTIC, OBTUSE, UNINTELLIGENT…” Malfoy ranted and Harry had had enough.

“SHUT UP!” Harry yelled back.

“MAKE ME!” Draco screamed.

“I WILL!” Harry shouted, clenching his fists.

“THEN DO IT!” Draco sneered, clenching his fists as well.

“OK!” Harry yelled.

Both of them were standing with their fists clenched glaring at each other and Harry
dared to do the one thing Malfoy couldn’t and drew his wand.

Malfoy seemed to calm down immediately, unclenching his fists, and standing still, the sneer still intact, however.

“You wouldn’t,” Malfoy said.

Harry looked at his wand and then back at Malfoy, realizing that he was pointing his wand at a virtually defenseless person. He lowered his wand.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

Malfoy stayed quiet from the opposite side of the room. Harry saw him clenching his fists as if to fight but when Harry looked at his eyes he knew that wasn’t his intent. Harry was shocked. Malfoy’s eyes were…well, as Rita Skeeter had put it, “glistening with tears.”

“Is that why you came here?” Malfoy’s voice was low and deep. “To shove it in my face, Potter?”

Harry’s stomach clenched in guilt.

“Wanted to get your kicks, did you? Wanted to make sure I knew my place?” Malfoy hissed, eyes still tearing up.

Harry didn’t know what to say. He felt awful now. Malfoy’s magic was still bound and Harry knew he wouldn’t want to deal with the prospect of not having his own magic anymore. Ever since he had learned it, magic had been a part of him and he wouldn’t be the same without it. Even during the summer with the Dursley’s when he wasn’t allowed to use magic, he could still feel it inside him. Malfoy didn’t even have that. He didn’t want to think about how Malfoy, who had grown up with magic all his life, felt about losing his.

“I..I’m..sor..” Harry murmured.

“Get out, Potter. Just leave,” Malfoy said not even letting Harry apologize. Draco knew he was about to lose it and he didn’t want to do it in front of Potter.

Harry saw the struggle Draco appeared to be having and understood that he should leave now. He turned and closed the door for Draco on the way out. He leaned against the wall of the hallway for a moment, feeling awful about what happened. He heard Draco’s muffled crying through the door and his gut clenched painfully. He quietly descended the stairs, leaving Malfoy in privacy.

“Shit,” Harry muttered to himself.

*******~A New Day~

“Hermione, I don’t even know what that is!” Harry said, exasperated, putting his head in is hands.

Harry had been researching ways to unbind magic all day with Hermione. After the incident with Malfoy the day before, Harry had been guilty enough that he felt a need to help search for a solution. But his efforts didn’t seem to be much help. Hermione continually had to explain terms to him from the books they were using for research. Harry sweared he was reading some kind of foreign language.

“Give up, mate. It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Ron said helpfully from his seat and offered Harry a cookie. Harry accepted it gratefully.

“Why did Dumbledore think I could be of any help with this?” Harry asked aloud.

“He most likely thinks you would be helpful with the spell work once we find the answer,” Hermione said, flipping a page.

“Why would I be needed?” Harry questioned.

“Well, you are good at defense against the dark arts and this is that because binding magic is of the dark arts,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Well, you also are very talented, mate,” Ron chipped in, biting into a cookie. “I mean, you can do stuff that’s hard for other wizards. I figure if we come across something that Hermione and I can’t do, we call you in,” Ron said.

“Oh,” Harry said and blushed at the compliment. Ron hadn’t ever complimented him like that before. Harry remembers back in fourth year when Ron was even jealous of him. Apparently, going out with Hermione had risen Ron’s self-esteem a great deal. That made Harry smile.

“Harry, why don’t you try this book. It’s a bit easier,” Hermione said, handing Harry a new book. Harry opened the book. It wasn’t any easier and Harry scowled.

“Why are you so interested in finding a cure for Malfoy now anyway?” Ron asked.

Harry knew they would eventually ask him that and had been grateful that they hadn’t before now.

“I just want to now, is all,” Harry said and Hermione looked at him quizzically. “I just don’t think I’d like it much if I didn’t have my magic,” he finished and Hermione appeared satisfied and returned to her book.

“Really? Is that why?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Honestly?” Ron asked again.

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?” Ron asked again.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“What? I was just asking,” Ron said and got up to get more cookies.

Harry was glad the questioning was over and he and Hermione returned to their research. Ron returned with another plate of cookies and continued to look suspiciously at Harry. Harry was unnerved but kept his nose in his book.

******~Questions and Answers~

Upstairs in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry Potter was assaulted by none other than his best friend, Ron Weasley.

“Hey!” Harry said and tried to move out of Ron’s tight hold on his shoulders that was keeping him from escaping.

“I want to know why,” Ron said. “And I’m not letting go until I do so you might as well just tell me,” Ron said, holding Harry firmly.

“Fine! Just let go!” Harry said.

“No!” Ron said, knowing Harry was going to escape out the door as soon as he did.

“Ok, ok,” Harry said and stopped struggling. “He was crying,” Harry said, looking down at the floor.

“Who was crying?” Ron asked.

“Malfoy,” Harry muttered, fresh guilt rising up in him.

“He was crying?” Ron asked, stunned. “Crying about not having his magic?”

Harry nodded.

“Oh,” Ron said and released his grip. “So you feel sorry for him, then?”

“No! I mean..err..um..yeah, I guess,” Harry said, a bit confused about what he was feeling for Malfoy.

“It’s not your fault he doesn’t have his magic,” Ron said. “So what if he was crying?”

“But I…I made him cry,” Harry said, gut clenching.

“What?” Ron asked. “What do you mean you made him cry?”

“I mean…I mean I made him cry,” Harry said. “I drew my wand on him.”

“For what? What’d he do?” Ron asked dangerously.

“We were fighting about something stupid and I drew my wand and he started crying,” Harry said and felt absolutely horrible again like he had when he was with Malfoy.

“I don’t think you should feel bad about it, mate,” Ron said, seeing Harry focusing on the floor and playing with the end of his shirt.

“I know,” Harry said, looking up and reassuring Ron with a smile.

“Ok. Good,” Ron said, and slapped him on the back cheerfully.

Hermione called from downstairs and Ron smiled at Harry, turned and jogged out of the room to go meet her.

“But I do,” Harry whispered to the empty room.

******~Guilt Continued~

Harry was sitting up in bed with a book in his lap at twelve-thirty at night.

“Damnit, this doesn’t make any sense,” Harry muttered to himself and flipped another page.

The book was saying that scurvy-grass and dittany could be mixed together but Harry knew that dittany didn’t do anything at all in potions anymore. He remembered hearing it from Neville that dittany had mutated in the last one-hundred years and that it was no longer able to mix with other ingredients. Since the book Harry was using was older than that, Harry was getting thoroughly frustrated. The binding magic spell was very old and no one knew exactly which era it originated from. The wizarding world had eventually banned it from all books since 1471 because it was seen as a wrongful infringement on a wizard’s basic right to magic. Back then, binding magic had been seen as harsher than the Unforgivables combined. Harry worried if they would ever be able to find anything to reverse the binding of magic on Malfoy. It seemed that Snape knew the spell to bind magic but even he did not know or had ever heard of a cure for it, according to Hermione. Hence, the immense research needed.

“Damnit,” Harry muttered and flipped another page.


Author's note: I love reviews! I really do! Even if you say something horrible I would still be motivated to write more (I know, I'm weird). I like reading them so...yeah...just review, dude. Yeah...