No reason to celebrate

Snape could feel Hermione’s constant stare even though he had his back turned to her. He knew full well, that she was burning to lecture him, and at the same time press him for answers. He tried hard not to give her any clue that he knew she had been standing behind for some time now, but he obviously wasn’t convincing enough.

“So,” she stated “you are not interested in Draco’s misery are you?”

Severus exhaled slowly and then turned to face the young and very determined woman leaning against the door frame. “Draco’s misery?”

“Well, of course his misery. He was the one looking for help and answers. He has this mysterious friend at his home and thinks he can tackle it all on his own.”

“My furry little rabbit, I ensure you….”

“Don’t you patronise me, Severus! Give me a straight answer.”

“Alright.” He stretched the word carefully “No, I did not ask Draco any further questions and I don’t intend to go after him and see if I can hold his hand.”

Hermione’s eyes burnt with anger. “Stop being such a prick.” She bellowed “I didn’t ask you to hold his hand! I merely wanted you to inquire if he was going to be okayon his own. The least you could do for your godson, is to be there for him in a time of need. You are going to get dressed properly, go to Draco’s house, and see if he needs anything.”

“How do you expect me to do that? I don’t even have his address.” Snape felt his familiar old scowl spreading across his face and new that he was in immediate danger.

True to her nature, Hermione’s face darkened and she stepped closer to him. “Listen, to me, you mangy cretin. Don’t give me that look. I am not one of your little students anymore. Get yourself into the bedroom and dress. And by the way, I do have Draco’s address, since he wrote me a letter some time ago and I still have it.” With a smile of utter self-satisfaction she turned and left the study.


********

“Harry! Do you ever listen to yourself? Do you have any idea what you are saying?” Draco sat up a little straighter but before he could continue there was a sharp knock at the front door.

While Harry kept his defensive stance, Draco sighed and got up to see who was disturbing them at this late hour. All Draco could make out behind the blurry glass was a dark shadow and he frowned slightly. With a groan of annoyance he opened the door only to find the rather intimidating from of his former potions teacher standing before him.

“Are you going to let me in, or do I have to make do with your doorstep?”

“Ahm, sure. Come in.” Draco stepped aside hesitantly.

“Good.” Snape grumbled and moved swiftly through the doorway and further on into the house.

With a sudden urge to stop Snape, Draco wheeled around threw the door shut and sped after the dark figure.

“Please, wait. I …, well it is not the most auspicious moment right now. I have a visitor and…”

“I know you have a visitor, Draco. You came to my house because of your visitor. Didn’t you?”

“Yes and no. It is a bit complicated. I really don’t think…”

“Thinking was never your forte, Draco.” And with these words, Snape had shed his travelling cloak and stepped inside the living room to find himself confronted with a slightly angry looking ex Gryffindor.

“Potter!” he snarled and gingerly strode past him, letting his lanky form settle on the settee where Draco had been sitting only minutes before.

Draco, still holding onto Snape cloak, rushed into the room and tried desperately to replace the look of helplessness on his face with a look of confidence and determination.

Harry who was still mad at his host and now saw the perfect opportunity to undermine Draco’s accusations, smiled unpleasantly at Snape and slowly turned towards the cabinet on the other side of the room, where he hoped Draco still had some bottles of whatever alcohol left.

“I don’t think so Harry.” Growled Draco from where he was standing, but the dark haired man chose to ignore him and opened the cabinet.

He never saw Draco approach, only a pale hand that suddenly slammed the cabinet door shut with force, nearly catching Harry fingers in doing so. “I said no!” Draco said with vehemence.

“And I don’t care!” Harry shot back.

Snape watched the former rivals with growing interest. So it had been Harry, Draco had been talking about when he had asked them for help. Interesting. What on earth had happened to Harry and why was he here with Draco in Draco’s house? The attitude they used to share still seemed to be the same and even the constant bickering and snarling at each other. Hadn’t they grown up at least a bit? But what astonished him most was that Draco was obviously putting up with the golden boy’s behaviour and even wanted to help him. Not that Draco had improved either, but then again, he was a Malfoy and as such, in Snape’s eyes, didn’t need to be any more courteous.

Suddenly Harry whirled around to face Draco and pushed the blond backwards, gaining some space again and yanked the cabinet open once more. He quickly withdrew the next best bottle he could grab and turned towards the dark figure on the couch.

“Would you like a drop as well, Mr. Snape?”

Snape inclined his head carefully, whilst he kept his dark eyes firmly on Draco.

With a smile, Harry turned to the cabinet again, retrieved two tumblers and crossed to where Snape was sitting. He tried hard to keep his hands from shaking as he poured Snape and himself a glass.

Severus Snape didn’t see the slight tremble of Harry’s hands, because his eyes were fixed on his godson at the other end of the room. Draco’s expression slowly changed form his usual sneering and haughty self to nonplussed and somewhat sad and fearful. Draco’s eyes were fastened on Harry’s back and without noticing it himself he was shaking his head as if he wanted to tell Harry to stop.


Harry slowly raised his glass in a silent salute to Snape and drank his rather large drink hastily, swallowing a lot of air with the liquid. Snape was only able to take a small sip of the amber coloured liquid before Harry’s eyes grew wide with shock and he doubled over in obvious pain and as fast as the alcohol had entered his stomach it now came flying out again in painful heaves, covering not only the carpet but the couch as well.

Before Snape had the time to react, Draco was at Harry’s side, clearly forgetting that his former potions master was with them in the room and held Harry gently, stroking his back soothingly and carefully leading him out of the room to the small guest bathroom near the kitchen. Twice they had to stop on the way, Harry doubling over again and again, throwing up and coughing wildly.

Snape threw a thoroughly disgusted look at the mess before him and with a raised eyebrow drew his wand out and quickly cast a cleansing spell. He had seen enough and decided to leave before Draco and Harry could return. Silently he slipped into his cloak and left the house, his mind still on Draco and the peculiar change in behaviour he just had witnessed. Was there more than Draco’s role as a host in this? Was Draco developing feelings for the obnoxious Gryffindor without himself knowing it, or did he know and just not want to admit them to others?


He had never felt pain and confusion like this. Harry felt like his inside were about to be torn apart and it didn’t seem to stop. He was hardly aware of the comforting arms that held him and the soft voice that told him to hang on, when all of a sudden the clenching and twisting of his insides stopped. Gasping for breath he slowly straightened up and held his sides as Draco let go of his upper body.

“Here.” Draco handed Harry a soft towel, which he had previously held underneath some cold water from the tap.

Harry took the towel without any comment and closed his eyes briefly. “Merlin, I need a drink now.”

It hit Malfoy like an ice cold fist. What on earth had he expected? That this incident would have meant anything to Harry? That the problem was so easily solved?

“No. You don’t. You need to lie down for a bit and then we’ll talk about your problem, Harry.”

“The hell we will.” Harry’s anger was flaring up without warning and he pushed his way past Draco back into the living room. He never noticed that somebody had cleaned the carpet and couch, as he reached for the glass he had dropped when he had first doubled over. It was empty and Harry reached over to the small side table on which the half empty bottle of amber coloured liquid was standing. But before he could pour himself another shot, Draco appeared right beside him and wrenched the bottle from Harry’s grasp.

“I said no, Potter.”

“Since when is it your business what I do or don’t do? It is my life. And I am doing what I want to. Is that clear?”

“I will not let you drink again.”

“What is wrong with you?” Harry desperately tried to take the bottle from Draco’s grip, but all he managed was to make Draco drop it and spill it onto the floor.

“Idiot!” the Gryffindor hissed angrily and without noticing it, put his fingers to his mouth to lick off the cognac that clung to his digits.

Before Draco could react and keep Harry from doing so, he saw Harry’s eyes bulge and then he was gagging, spittle running from his wide open mouth. “What is happening?” he gasped, trying to steady himself against the armchair that was standing beside him.

“You…, well I…., you obviously don’t react well to alcohol anymore.” Draco said a tad bit to confidently after stuttering for a second or so.

“What are you talking about?” Harry spluttered.

Draco just stared at the carpet and didn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

“Draco! Answer me.”

A slow shake of the blond head was the only answer.

Gripping Draco’s shoulders hard, Harry glared at him and without further warning his voice tilted and it sounded more like a shriek than a shout.

“What have you done to me?”

Eyes wide with sudden fear and swelling anger Draco looked right into Harry’s eyes. “I wanted to help you, arsehole. You need help and I talked to somebody.”

“What did you do to me?”

“I gave you a potion. There, are you satisfied now?” Draco roared.

“What?”

“I can help , Harry. Let me help you!”

“I don’t need any help. I am happy. And I am leaving now. I don’t need to stay with somebody who uses me to satisfy his needs to feel like a good Samaritan. Go, help yourself. Cure yourself of your constant drive for sex and maybe help Dennis on the way!” Harry pushed Draco hard and fled the living room, heading upstairs.

Clutching his bruised side where Harry had pushed him, Draco reached for his wand and quickly cast a locking charm on all the windows and doors in sight. He was just casting the last spell for the lower level when Harry came storming down the stairs again, clutching his travel bag tightly to his chest.

Draco stood at the foot of the stairs and was about to reach out for Harry, when the Gryffindor shoved him a second time, sending him toppling to the ground. Harry strode determinately into the small hallway and grabbed the knob on the entrance door. Nearly tearing off some of his fingernails Harry had pulled hard on the knob, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. An angry growl escaped him and he drew his wand.

“Alohamora!” he shouted, rattling the knob, but still it wouldn’t move.

Harry repeated the spell a few times, without any success. Kicking against the door hard he whirled around ready to rip Draco’s head off. The Slytherin was no longer lying on the ground, nor was he anywhere in sight. Dropping his travel bag, Harry stormed back out of the hallway and shouted for Draco.

“Come back you coward. Come back here now! Why is the door locked? Where are you?” Harry’s voice tipped and sounded more like a screech than an angry shout.

He ran into the living room, tore at the windows, continued to the kitchen, angrily rattled at the back door and found them all tightly shut and obviously effectively spelled shut. No spell he could think of was able to open any of them and by now tears of anger and frustration were making their way down Harry’s cheeks. He felt panic raising inside of him and his fury slowly changed into something different. The utter feeling of helplessness.

Suddenly he heard soft footsteps coming up behind him and Harry spun around, finding Draco right behind him. The blond man looked pale and exhausted but very determined. Ignoring his tears and the small bit of spittle that ran down his chin, Harry grabbed Draco’s upper arms and shook him.

“Let me go, Draco. Please. I need to go. Please, Draco, please.”

Draco briefly closed his eyes and steeled himself. It had to be done. No matter how much Potter would plead, shout or destroy inside this house. He had taken the first step and given Harry the potion. Now he had to take the next step. There was no going back now.

“No. I cannot do that Harry.”

“Yes, you can. Please. Please, let me…, just open the door for me. Don’t make me beg, Malfoy.”

“You already are begging, Potter.”

Harry pulled himself closer to Draco and snuggled up, soaking the satin shirt with his tears and spittle. Breath hitching, he looked up into Draco’s face, sobbing slightly.

Draco turned his face away and shook his head.

“Why, Draco. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you can’t and somebody has to take charge of the situation. You will stay here and I will help you, I will be with you all the time and we will get through this together. And maybe one day you will be able to understand and forgive me for the drastic measures I have taken. Maybe you should lay down for a bit, then clean up a little and I will fix us something for supper.”

Defeated Harry raced upstairs and banged the door shut behind him. All his fear, his anger and frustration surfaced at once when he saw all the open drawers, the open cupboard and turned out waste basket. The vestiges of Draco’s investigation.

With a near inhuman roar, Harry grabbed the nearest piece of furniture and threw it against the wall, delighting in the sound of breaking wood and tearing cloth. After some more violent minutes of wrecking the room, he slumped down on the half torn mattress and succumbed to his tears. He felt so empty, his hands were shaking badly by now and a clenching pain had taken up residence in the middle of his abdomen.

His breath was coming in dry heaves and it seemed as if all the misery of this world had been directed at him. He remembered situations from his childhood, times of hunger and pain. He remembered his friends, their time at Hogwarts and the war. All the victims, his confusion and anger. The uncertainty about some members of the Order, the fear-filled and sometimes hopeless days. The sudden unexpected help from inside Voldemort’s inner circle and his first public appearances. From there it got foggy. When he tried to remember the faces of his best friends all he could see were their faces as he remembered them from their school days. How did they look now?

Well, he would know soon, wouldn’t he? He would see them at the celebration that was to be held in less than three months. And …., yes, they would see him. They would ask him what he had been up to and they would ask….

Other images flashed through his mind. Scenes from the past, of evenings spent alone in some hotel room or at some unknown bar. Moments in which he was hardly able to walk; mornings of waking up with tremendous headaches and a room in shambles. He remembered not being able to come to the conventions because he was still trying to recover from a long drunk. The ever present urge to calm his nerves and shaking hands, the humiliating excuses….

And again the faces of his friends, what would he tell them? That he had not been able to get his life in order? That he was too weak to help himself and how far he had fallen? Tears were starting to spill from his eyes again, but this time it was different.

With a nearly forgotten feeling of boldness he sat up and angrily whipped the tears from his face. Taking a deep breath he squared his shoulders and looked around himself. Splinters of wood, torn cushions and shards of glass littered the floor and Harry had the distinct impression of looking on his own life. Nothing but broken pieces.

Hoping that Draco would keep his word and not throw him out after he saw this, Harry quietly left the room and with hesitant steps made his way downstairs to the kitchen.


Draco had held his breath when Harry stormed upstairs and had not dared to move until he heard the breaking and crushing of furniture from the room above. He had somehow expected this and felt relieved that Harry was venting some of his fury. His own hands were trembling as he went to the kitchen and took out what he needed for a small supper. Cutting tomatoes and some cucumber, laying out cheese and butter Draco occupied himself trying not to think too hard of Harry and how he was doing now. They both needed some moments alone.

Draco was just cutting a fresh baguette when he heard hesitant steps coming into the kitchen.

“Draco?”

Without turning he answered “Yes, Harry?”

“Why?”

“Because,” Draco turned around to face him “nobody deserves that fate. And you need somebody to help you. And’ he smiled in mock arrogance, ‘I am your superior and that makes me the perfect guard for you.”

Draco face softened again and he stepped over to Harry. “What do you want Harry?”

“I think I want your help.”

Draco felt his breath stop, “What made you change your mind?”

“I am not sure if I am ready to tell you, yet. But I will one day.”

“Harry look at me,” Draco put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, “It’s going to be a hard and rocky road. But you will make it. And I am very proud of you deciding to take this chance.”

Draco was about to lead Harry to the table, when the still slightly shaken voice stopped him. “Draco, do you still have some of the potion?”

“Only a bit, why?”

“Just in case. I am afraid, Draco. Afraid I wont be able to make it. And I thought just in case it would be a good idea to have some of it around if I can’t control myself.”

“If you think so. It shouldn’t be a problem. I can make some more. But only as a temporary aid. You will have to do most of the work yourself I’m afraid.” The blond smiled encouragingly and motioned Harry over to the table.

t.b.c