A Series of Connecting the Dots

Author's Note: Laurel's turn!

Chapter 18 – Harry – Consequences

I found Quidditch to be much more fun than I remembered and losing to Draco was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I remember deciding in second year, when Draco became the Slytherin Seeker, that I would rather have Hagrid accidently sit on me and not notice for hours than to have Draco beat me to the Snitch. But as it turns out, losing to him was a rather pleasant experience. Extremely pleasant. Who knew showering could be so much fun?

Everything in my life seemed to shine in a way it never had before I allowed Draco into my heart. He made me feel like I could achieve anything and suddenly my life didn’t seem so hopeless anymore. His presence contented me and I felt myself wanting nothing more than him – as if I could eat, sleep and breathe Draco Malfoy.

I know well that saying about ‘carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders’; it has rung true for me even before Dumbledore confirmed my destiny with Sybil Trelawney’s unexpected prediction before I was even born. I have felt that weight for some time now pressing down on me, crushing my spirit and all the hopes I had once carried for my future. But Draco seemed to have removed all my burdens and I felt light as air. My aching shoulders were finally able to relax and I felt safe and loved for the first time in my life.

His hand was secure in mine as we walked together to the Great Hall for dinner; it had been a few days since we had gotten together and by now the whole school knew about us. Since facing Ron on Sunday morning, we hadn’t talked much further and I still wasn’t sure where I stood with him or my other Gryffindor housemates, but I was strangely calm about it. It’s not that I didn’t want to make up with him, or that I didn’t care either way – I did care quite a lot really, I was desperate to have my best friends back the way we used to be – but I felt like it would be okay whatever was to happen because I would have Draco at my side.

I gazed over at him as I contemplated the new side of his character that I was experiencing now. He was still all the things I always thought him to be; hotheaded, impulsive, and sharp tongued. He was all the things I’d found him to be in the last few weeks; determined, possessive, and demanding. But, I was beginning to see that he had another layer to him as well; he was tender, selfless, and endearingly vulnerable.

Right now though, the most appropriate description for him would be ‘troubled’. “What’s wrong, Love?” I asked him. I had hoped he felt as carefree as I had the last few days, but obviously this was not the case.

“Nothing,” he replied, trying to shake away my concerns with his head, and a quick smile. I gave him a pointed look so he knew I wasn’t even remotely convinced and he was forced to confess. “I’m just worried about what vengeance people might decide to take against us for being together.”

Draco’s words settled on me and I felt like a foolish little girl letting my feelings and fantasies run away with me while Draco was obviously still in touch with the reality of our situation. “You mean Mike?” I asked. I had thought about him briefly, probably not as much as somebody with a decent conscience would have, but he had been on my mind. I hoped he was okay; I hadn’t seen him since… well, yeah… since last Saturday. Mike was obviously on Draco’s mind too, but for other reasons. “I don’t think we need to worry about him. He’ll probably avoid us altogether if he can,” I assured my new boyfriend. Mike was a good person, it was one of the reasons I wanted to like him so much, but I suppose even good people can turn crazy if they get their heart broken badly enough.

“You have Charms with him tomorrow,” he reminded me and I cringed.

“I know.” It wasn’t an ideal situation, especially since Mike and I had been sitting together for so long now I didn’t think we’d be able to switch with anyone this late in the term.

“I could probably get you out of it if you like?” he asked me and I looked over at him to see his face just to make sure he was serious. That was quite an authoritative offer he was making me.

“And how would you do that?” I asked him skeptically.

“I have a bit of pull with Severus,” he admitted, shrugging easily as though it were nothing.

Instead of bringing me clarity, his answer only confused me further. It was such a ridiculous notion that anybody could be on good terms with a persistently angry man like Snape that I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve only heard Dumbledore and McGonagall call him by his first name, and usually it was when they were cross with him.”

Draco laughed along with me and my heart beat faster at the ease of it. “He’s my godfather,” he explained to me at last, but it still didn’t make sense.

“How in Merlin’s name did that happen?”

“His father and mine are… friends… sort of,” he answered me. “They’re as close as De – er – Slytherins get anyhow.” He stumbled over his words, an unusual occurrence for somebody as articulate as Draco, but I had a fairly good idea about what he had narrowly avoided telling me. It was a concern obviously, but not something I wished to address just yet. We had only been together for a few days. I remembered well the exact reason why I had let myself get close to Draco – to use him for his connections – and I still fully intended to take advantage of them if I could, but it was not something I needed to do immediately. It could wait… for a while at least.

“I have to go to Charms at some point,” I pointed out, diverting back to our original topic of conversation. It was more of an immediate concern of mine at this moment; Voldemort was far away from Hogwarts and far away from my mind as long as Draco was close to me. The psychotic snake had ruined my life for the last sixteen years and I would be damned if I was going to let him ruin my happiness now. “Even someone like Snape couldn’t get me out of Charms permanently.”

“What do you think you’re going to do when you see him?” he asked me.

“I really don’t know. I feel like rubbish for what I did to him, but I would have felt worse if I’d gone through with it,” I said, feeling miserable all over again.

“So, no regrets?” he questioned, still sounding unsure of himself. When was he going to have some faith in me? I’d already told him my heart was his; he would have it until he gave it back because I would never ask for it. I never wanted it back from him.

“I can’t believe you’d ask me that after what just happened in the locker room,” I quipped, my mouth falling open as though he’d deeply offended me.

“I’m not typically so insecure,” he replied, trying to sound smug to keep in with the joke, but he didn’t quite get there. He was still worried about my feelings for him.

“You mean with all the other people you’ve dated?” I tried to tease, but I didn’t quite make it either. I guess we were both worried, but perhaps it’s natural for a new relationship.

“No, I meant in general, but yes. I’ve never been in a relationship before where I wasn’t entirely in control,” he confessed, and it twisted my stomach into knots.

“But you’ve had a lot of them,” I told myself more than him. I knew I had to accept it, just as he had to accept my past with Ginny and Mike.

“I’ve had a few,” he answered evasively. Was there some reason he didn’t want me to know?

I couldn’t help myself, my mind warned me not to pry but I had to ask. I pulled him into a more private spot away from all the other students; it was a tight fit, but I didn’t care, I had to know. “How many?”

“Harry,” he whined, obviously he didn’t want to talk about it, and my anxiety heightened.

“So, a lot then.” My throat felt tight. I didn’t care really, it wouldn’t change my mind about being with him, but I wanted to feel special, not just one of many.

“Not a lot,” he told me, sighing as he gave in to my need to know his sexual history. “I’ve never gotten more than a blowjob from another guy, and I’ve never given any more than a kiss. I’ve been with a couple girls.”

“Who?” I pressed, and his head fell back uncomfortably; he wasn’t happy.

“Pansy and Daphne,” he confessed. “The other guy was Blaise, who is quite jealous of you I must say.” He tried to make a joke of it and I wanted to let him, but my heart was still processing this new knowledge.

“That’s better than I thought,” I replied. I was a little relieved to be honest.

He relaxed at my obvious acceptance and he leaned in to kiss me. “You assumed I was some kind of lothario?”

“Well, look at you,” I said uncomfortably. He was Godly after all, he could have had anybody he wanted, and at sixteen, that was quite a temptation; I just assumed he’d given in to it.

Despite the small space we were in, he managed to gather me into his arms so quickly I gasped at the unexpectedness of the movement. He claimed my mouth possessively and my body refused to let me do anything except melt into him. He tasted just as good as he had the first time and every other time after; he was very quickly becoming my favourite flavour.

“I’ve never felt this before you, Harry,” he murmured into my mouth; I could feel his body heat emanating off his skin. “I’ve never been willing to risk it all on another person, and believe me when I say there is a lot to risk. If I were the Malfoy my father wants me to be I would have never pursued you.”

He was completely sincere in his sentiment and I knew what this meant to him. I wasn’t a joke, or an experiment; he was completely serious about me. Of course, I knew this already, but it didn’t take away any of the impact of his words. I could feel every breath rise in my chest as I asked him a question I’d been pondering for some time. “So, then why did you?”

He paused, considering his next words and I waited with bated breath. You can imagine, then, how unimpressed I was to receive his answer. “Because you’ve got the nicest arse in Hogwarts,” he said. Still, I couldn’t help but want to laugh; it was such a stupid answer to such a serious question.

I kissed him tenderly. I would let him get away with that for now. He’d confessed enough to me for one evening. I knew we had a lot to talk about, but right now it felt as though we had the rest of our lives to talk.

--

Draco sat with me at the Gryffindor table that night at dinner in the same spot I had occupied during my weeks of exile, and once again we were sitting alone. I didn’t mind, I loved being alone with him, but I could see Hermione and Ron sitting further down the table with some of my old friends and I wondered whether they thought I should be sitting with them instead. I wondered to myself if I even wanted to be sitting with them. I didn’t want to be without Draco at all, but he told me himself after he caught me watching them that he wouldn’t come with me. It’s between the three of you, he told me, but never mind the fact that he would rather cut off his own arm than make nice with a Weasley. Then again, a few months ago I would have said the same of him making nice with me.

I looked over at him as he was telling me how much he wanted to Hex everyone who hurt me, his eyes were burning with a fierce protectiveness and my affection for him washed over me anew. “I love you,” I told him honestly. I didn’t really mean to say it, but I meant it all the same. I’d never told Mike I loved him – probably because I didn’t – but since the first time I’d told Draco, it was like I’d broken an ‘I love you’ dam inside of me and it was all flooding out of my mouth. In my mind, every time I looked at him I thought it.

He diverted the conversation back to my friends and I decided I should wait until I was invited back to sit with them, rather than assuming I’d be welcome after only a small, mildly civil conversation with Ron. Draco agreed. But all this talk of my friends had me wondering about his, he certainly hadn’t introduced me to any or even mentioned them.

“What should we do tonight?” I asked him, trying to take my mind off Hermione and Ron, while also planning to lead him into agreeing to let me meet his friends.

“I’m sure I could find a way to take your mind off of Weasley and Granger,” he whispered seductively in my ear. The vibrations of his voice and warm breath shot a shiver down my spine and I felt my groin begin to warm.

“I’m sure you could,” I agreed hooking my foot around his underneath the table, and while I was very keen to let him do with me as he pleased I still had other things in mind; the sex would come afterwards. “What about your friends? We could hang out with them tonight,” I tried to sound casual and not desperate to know he wasn’t ashamed of introducing his Gryffindor boyfriend to his Slytherin friends.

“I don’t have any friends, Harry,” he told me and I frowned in disbelief; how could that be true?

“What about Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Minions,” he answered easily as though it were a common occurrence to have ‘minions’. He was such a Slytherin! No wonder he was their King, or Prince, or whatever it was everybody called him. I listed off everyone I could remember seeing him with over the years, including some made up names and shonky descriptions of people I couldn’t attach to a name. “Minions, all of them,” he repeated. “They fear me, they do what I tell them, but none of them would voluntarily spend time in my presence.”

I couldn’t believe he didn’t have any friends. Who did he confide in? Who did he have fun with? I missed my friends like a lost limb when we stopped talking. I’d heard once before that people who had lost a limb could sometimes still feel it even though it wasn’t there; well that’s exactly what it was like with Hermione and Ron. I could still feel them sometimes, as if they were sitting next to me, or laughing or nagging in my head, but they never were. Even after all this hurt, I couldn’t imagine not having them. How did Draco cope without close friends?

I even asked about his exes, perhaps he was still friends with them. But he assured me he wasn’t. “Oh, that would go brilliantly,” he scoffed. “So, Pansy, meet Harry, my boyfriend. That’s right, you were so horrid you made me gay!”

“Stop,” I laughed and I slapped him playfully on his arm. “You’re such a prat.”

“Hence the lack of friends,” he shrugged and I cringed. So it did bother him more than he let on…

“I’m sorry-” I started to apologize for my insensitivity, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I’m not worried about it, Harry. All those Slytherins glaring at us are in my past. They would hurt you if they could; even kill you if they had a chance. Hell, they might even try to hurt me now, but I won’t let them near you. Not for anything,” he explained, squashing once and for all any desire I had to meet any of them. “It’s for the best that I count none of them as my friends. Loyal lapdogs to the Dark Lord are all they’ll ever be.”

“And you?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself, I know I’d decided to wait to talk about this stuff, but the opening was there and while I trusted him completely, I still needed to hear him say it.

“I’m decidedly not,” he answered, and I felt myself relax at his words. I hadn’t even known I was tense. Still, he might not be one of them but he was certainly among them; his whole life was infected with the Dark Lords presence. His fingertips grazed my forehead and then ran through my hair before his hands guided my face to look up at him. “I’m not his man, Harry. I won’t ever betray you. No matter what you might see or hear about me, my loyalties lay with you, not the Dark Lord.”

I could tell he meant it, but there was something in the determination in his voice that sounded… resigned. It scared me. “Can he hurt you?”

“Yes,” he told me without a moment’s hesitation and I felt sick.

“Will he?” I asked. I knew it was a stupid question, Voldemort would kill his own grandmother if she displeased him – in fact, I knew he had! – but a desperate part of me hoped that Draco might be spared for some unlikely reason.

“There is no doubt in my mind that if he finds out about you and I that he’ll kill me,” he told me. It was obvious he had thought about this before, possibly before we got together; he knew this would be a death sentence for him and yet he did it anyway… and now everyone knew! God. I was so stupid, how could I let this happen?

“Draco,” I hissed at him. I should have seen this possibility for myself, but since I was so wrapped up in my own feelings like a stupid teenage girl I was also mad at him for not telling me when he’d so clearly given this quite a bit of thought. “You should have told me. We could have kept this quiet.”

“I don’t want that,” he replied surely. “I want you and they can all go jump in the Black Lake if they don’t like it. I have ways of shutting them up for now… nothing too unseemly.”

I was horrified at the possible consequences of our actions, and part of me didn’t care what he did to them to keep them quiet. He could cut out their tongues, and at this point – if it saved his life – I would help him do it. “I can’t let you get hurt because of me,” I whispered, I could feel tears pricking my eyes. I couldn’t lose him, not for any reason, but to think I might lose him from my own carelessness was even harder to imagine.

“Hush,” he soothed me. “What’s done is done. I’ll keep myself out of harms way if you promise to do the same.” I nodded; I would promise him anything if he would agree to keep himself safe from anyone wanting to hurt him. “Why don’t you and I slip away somewhere?” he suggested, leaning in close to suck on my ear.

“Okay,” I agreed quickly. I’d had enough of dinner, and I’d had enough of people watching us interact. I just wanted to be alone with him, I was hurting after our conversation and I could do with a comforting distraction and the soothing words he would be able to offer me in private.

We got up from our table and tried to slip quietly from the Great Hall, but the headmaster apparently had other ideas. He cut us off at the entrance and greeted us warmly. “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, how are you both this evening?”

“Fine, Sir,” we answered in chorus.

“Excellent, excellent,” he replied. “Harry, I was wondering if I might have a word with you in my office, in, say, twenty minutes?”

“Er…sure,” I agreed, twisting my hands together. “What about?” I didn’t really want to go, I wasn’t sure what he wanted to talk about and I had much more important things to be doing like seeing how many different noises I could get Draco to make when I nibbled on his perfect pale flesh just right.

“Oh, just this and that,” Dumbledore answered in his usual frustrating way, never actually telling me anything. He wandered off dreamily leaving Draco and I alone.

“He’s going to talk to you about me, isn’t he?” he asked. He looked a little worried about it to be honest, and it made me worried too. We started making our way slowly up to the headmaster’s office.

“Maybe,” I replied, not really sure, but not feeling confident about what he was going to say. Perhaps it had nothing to do with Draco, maybe it was Order business, or a new lead they’d found on Voldemort’s whereabouts that might keep me from having to use my connection to Draco in order to find the monster.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to separate us sooner,” Draco mumbled, and I balked.

“What do you mean? Do you think that’s what he’s planning?” I blurted anxiously.

“Stop being naïve, Harry. You and I are the only two people in the entire school that actually want us together. Everyone else would far prefer us to go back to being enemies,” he replied bitterly, and I thought it came out rather harshly to be honest.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that none of them get a say then, isn’t it?” I said firmly, hoping it would be enough to encourage him to have some faith in our relationship, rather than believing we were doomed before we’d even really started.

It seemed to work rather well, better than I’d planned actually, as he pushed me roughly into the stone wall and kissed me hard. I moaned with desire as my body heated up almost immediately. I wanted to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist so that he could pin me to this wall and enter me right here. I didn’t care than anybody could come along and see us because right then it was only him and me in the whole castle. “Wow,” I gasped when he finally released me.

“Just remember that when the Headmaster tells you to leave off from me,” he told me seriously. “Remember that kiss and remember that I love you.”

“I can do that,” I promised, and I threw him a wink for good measure so he would know I intended to finish what he’d started just then as soon as I was free of Dumbledore.

I headed down the corridor that lead to his office and just as I was wondering what the password was to get in, the winding Phoenix staircase opened up for me to step inside. That man knew everything that went on within his castle walls and it was seriously creepy sometimes. I stepped inside and went up to see my aged headmaster, hoping the meeting was nothing to worry about.

“Harry,” he greeted me. “Thank you for coming to see me. Cockroach cluster?”

“No, thank you, Sir.” I sat down in the chair opposite him and I remembered the last time I was here. I yelled at him; it was just after Sirius had died. My heart seized.

“How is everything going for you?” he asked me sincerely. “I regret to say that I have rather neglected you this year. I understand you’ve been having some trouble with your housemates?”

“Some trouble, yes, Sir,” I nodded, but didn’t want to elaborate; chances are he knew everything anyway. The whole school knew. “But I think I’m starting to sort that out.”

“Good, good,” he smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear it. And you’re Ravenclaw friends?”

“You mean Michael Corner, Sir?” I asked, knowing from his tone, and then small smile at my response, that he did. “He was my boyfriend actually, we dated for a few months, but we aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied, and he did look genuinely sorry.

“Its okay, Professor, it was my decision,” I said, trying to reassure him that I was not hurt from my split with Mike.

“Yes, well, break ups are difficult nonetheless,” he mused. “I did wonder about your newfound friendship with Mr. Malfoy. I was under the impression you did not get along with him very well.”

“No, Sir, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” I answered him surely; it was true for many years we didn’t get along, but those years were void now. I loved him. “We get along very well.”

“Ah, so I imagined all those detentions you served with him for fighting in class, the practical jokes, and verbal abuse?” he challenged me; his tone was light, but there was a slight edge to it that I did not miss.

“We have had some… misunderstandings over the years, but I assure you we do get along extremely well,” I answered tightly. I didn’t like where this was going at all and I was starting to think Draco had been right about what Dumbledore wanted.

“I worry about your friendship with him, Harry,” he said heavily. “His family has very strong connections with Lord Voldemort. Are you sure you know what you are doing with him?”

“I am absolutely sure about everything I am doing with him,” I retorted sharply. I felt my face heat in anger, but I was trying to restrain myself from shouting at him that this was none of his business!

“I cannot forbid you to see him, but-”

“That’s right you can’t forbid me! And even if you could-!” I was yelling before I really knew what I was doing, but I stopped myself quickly. I might not have liked what he was saying to me, but I still respected him.

“I know what it feels like to be in love, and I also know what it feels like to be betrayed by that love,” he told me and I could see in his sad blue eyes he was telling me the truth. I didn’t want him prying into my love life, so I wasn’t about to pry into his.

“He won’t betray me,” I said softly, but surely. “He loves me, I can tell. He’s risking everything. They would kill him for this, you know? He would die just to be with me.” My voice cracked as I said this and I felt the truth of my statement like a dagger to my heart.

“How can you be sure they didn’t plan this?” Dumbledore challenged, and I felt my rage boil in me again. I had just told him Draco might die and he didn’t even care. “How can you be sure he’s not luring you into some kind of trap? You need to be careful with him, Harry.”

“It is not a trap!” I screeched and even as I did I remembered Remus saying the same thing only a few short weeks ago. I remembered the doubt I felt when he asked me if I was sure, and I felt guilty. But, if I wasn’t sure then I certainly was now. “You cannot tell me what to do. I would let him blindfold me and lead me anywhere he chose because I love him and I trust him!”

“Harry, do not be foolish!” he demanded, raising his voice for the first time. “Do not throw your life away because you were careless with your heart!”

“I am not a fool! Draco is true to me and he will prove it!” I announced, standing from my chair and preparing to leave. I wouldn’t stay to hear him disparage my relationship. “And when he does it will be you who is the fool.” And at these words I turned and marched from his office, not heeding even once his calls for me to stop.

--

The further I got away from Dumbledore’s office the more my anger seemed to rise. I replayed our conversation in my mind and his words seemed to sound worse each time. He didn’t know anything about me, and it was obvious he didn’t care. If he cared about my feelings he would have checked on me when he learned of my banishment from Gryffindor by my housemates, but he didn’t. As soon as it involves Voldemort though, he becomes all concerned. Well, fuck him! He can’t pick and choose when he gets to have a say in my life…

I took a deep breath to try to calm myself. I was heading down to the dungeons to see Draco and I knew if he saw me so upset he’d probably try to Hex Dumbledore himself! I had raged to myself most of the way to the Slytherin common room and I had barely noticed I was already nearly there. I didn’t care if all of Slytherin saw me calling on Draco, I didn’t care that it was past curfew, or that I had to be up early tomorrow morning for class; I just needed to see him, even for a moment.

I banged loudly on the wall that hid the Slytherin quarters and it opened almost immediately. It was a fourth year boy, a real prat, I’d seen him around picking on other students – all younger and smaller than him, just like Dudley. “Draco Malfoy,” I stated not offering him any pleasantries.

“Here for a bit of glitter fairy arse love, are you Potter?” he smirked at me and I sneered back at him, hoping my reputation and Draco’s would be enough to spur him into action. He flinched, but nothing more.

“Piss off, Potter,” another voice snapped and I looked behind the boy to see Pansy Parkinson walking up to me. “Draco doesn’t want you here.”

“I have it on good authority that he does, Parkinson,” I retorted harshly. “Please be so kind as to fetch him for me.”

“No.”

“He won’t be pleased tomorrow morning when I tell him that I tried to call on him and you lot wouldn’t let me past,” I threatened. Draco told me earlier that he had something over them, and I hoped his power over them extended to me too.

“What makes you think you will see him tomorrow morning?” she sneered and chuckled slightly. My blood turned cold in my veins and I knew immediately something was wrong.

“What have you done, you psycho bitch!?” I shouted, trying to lunge at her, but the boy was ready and he shoved me back into the corridor with a strength I hadn’t been expecting and before I could blink the wall had shut in my face.

For a moment I couldn’t breathe, but I knew I couldn’t worry about something as trivial as breathing when Draco was probably in trouble. I clumsily clambered to my feet and took off in a desperate run straight up to Gryffindor Tower. It seemed to take forever – too long to get to my dorm – every stair was one stair too many and my mind was racing. Why did we have to sleep on opposite ends of the castle? What could they have done with him? Where would he be? Who would have taken him? My panic escalated as I realized the truest answers to those questions were anything, anywhere, and anybody.

I sprinted through the crowded common room and up into my dorm. I barely noticed that Ron was sitting on his bed reading. I dove into my trunk, flinging out all my belongings as I looked for the one thing that might show me where Draco was.

“Woah, calm down there, Harry,” I heard someone say. “What’s the rush?”

“Um, I – urgh,” I couldn’t even speak. I looked up briefly to see Ron standing next to me, and I cracked. After all the terrifying conversations I’d had with Draco, and then admitting it to Dumbledore, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears sprung from my eyes and suddenly I couldn’t see anything but a blur of shapes and colours. Draco might be dead. The possibility circled around and around in my mind.

“Merlin, Harry! What’s happened?” Ron gasped and he grabbed at me; one of his hands on each of my shoulders. He shook me a little and I choked on a sob.

“Draco – they have him, he’s – he’s gone,” I broke down and sunk to the floor. Ron lost his grip on me and I was alone. My mind was racing, I kept telling myself I needed to be strong. I needed to clear my head, get up, get the map and my cloak, and be the hero for my beloved. Hero. I fucking hated that word. People used it so much when they spoke about me, and when the man I loved needed me the most, I was left whimpering in a heap on the floor like Moaning Myrtle.

Ron seemed to know what to do though, he left me there crying as he continued to search through my belongings; he retrieved my map and my cloak. He opened the map and searched it for a few seconds – I wanted to see what it said, I needed to know where Draco was, but I couldn’t seem to move. Ron closed the map, gathered up my cloak, and pulled me to my feet.

“Come on,” he ordered, and my body obeyed him. “He’s in the dungeons with about fifteen other Slytherins; they’re either having some kind of party or your boy is in deep shit.”

My breath caught in my throat and I didn’t know what to say. Draco was in deep shit. I knew he wasn’t having a party, not with them. I felt like I was going to throw up – I wanted to, I thought that if I did my brain might start to function again and I could focus on rescuing him. Before I could even think about heaving, Ron had grabbed me and shoved me out of the room and down the stairs. Hermione saw us both enter the common room and after looking us over she followed us both out wordlessly; she knew right away something was wrong. Once outside we took off for the dungeons at a jog, not bothering to conceal ourselves under my cloak since we had no time to be sneaking carefully anywhere. As we moved Ron explained to Hermione that we thought Draco might be in trouble and we were going to check on him. He made it sound so casual, like we were checking ‘just in case’, not because we were sure he was in danger. I was sure.

The cool air outside seemed to refresh me and as we ran along the corridors the air blew on my face drying my tears and setting my resolve to rescue my boyfriend. My mind pushed out all my hurt, anger, and fear, and replaced it with determination, surety, and my trusty Gryffindor Courage. With every step I told myself I was getting closer to Draco and I began to feel ashamed that I’d given him up for dead so quickly, but I pushed that negative feeling away. It wouldn’t help me here, I needed to stay positive or I would lose myself again. Ron seemed to notice the change in me. “Doing alright there, Harry?” he asked.

“Never better,” I replied in a deadpan tone. I was concentrating; I didn’t have time to talk.

The three of us flew noisily down the last set of stairs and into the dungeons. I wasn’t thinking about the lateness of the hour or how much noise we were making, until we were stopped by a very annoyed looking Professor Snape. He stood there like a wall between us and Draco; every second felt like it could be Draco’s last and I was just standing here wondering how to get past my hateful Potions Master.

“Well, well, well,” he chanted. “This is a surprise, I thought you’re Golden Group had been disbanded, Potter?”

“Professor, we need to get by!” I exclaimed, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Imagine my surprise while I was up grading papers and hear what I could have sworn was an army of dragons stampeding down the hall,” he mused sarcastically. “As it turns out, it was you three. But, I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised, you have the grace of a dragon, Potter.”

“Professor, its Draco! He’s in some kind of trouble; you have to let me pass!” I begged him. The look on his face surprised me, it was one I hadn’t seen on him before; concern. In an instant it clicked. Draco had told me only today that Snape was his godfather. I had to wonder: did he tell me so I would know to seek out the professor’s help? Did he anticipate this somehow? “Please, you have to help me! I was supposed to meet him tonight and when he didn’t show I went to the Slytherin dorms.” It wasn’t exactly true, but I didn’t need it to be, I just needed it to be enough to get him to help me. “Pansy Parkinson practically told me they had him and that ‘he wouldn’t be at breakfast tomorrow’, those were her exact words.”

“What makes you think you know where they have him?” he challenged me. I noticed he didn’t say ‘if’ they have him, but ‘where’; this made my heart lurch. Everything seemed to be pointing to Draco’s imminent demise; my lover needed me and I was just standing here feeling desperate and helpless.

“I just know, please,” I pleaded again. “We have to hurry!”

“Lead the way then, Potter,” he replied snarkily as though he wasn’t too happy about letting me lead.

I nodded quickly and rushed forward as soon as he let me pass. I let Ron slip into his position at the front; I didn’t know where Draco was exactly, so I was forced to trust my old friend. We wound further into the dungeons, deeper than I’d ever been before and Ron slowed his pace; he’d obviously never been here before either. He still had the map in his hands and he opened it to check our position. I glanced over his shoulder and so did Snape. We were close. Draco was just up ahead. I rushed forward and leapt at the unfamiliar door that the map promised held Draco inside. It was unlocked and I entered quickly and carelessly. My only thoughts were for him.

The first thing I saw was a crowd of students, some familiar some not, but I couldn’t see Draco. I pushed through them and they noticed me for the first time. I shoved them roughly out of my way, caring little who they were. I couldn’t see what Ron, Hermione, or Snape were doing now that I’d jumped ahead of them and I didn’t much care. I heard shouts and yelling all around me, but it fell muffled on my ears; I had only one concern. A few people tried to grab at me, but I shoved them away and continued to push through. My heart was beating wildly and I felt nothing but blind panic coursing through my body.

I saw his hair first; his beautiful, golden hair. It was perfect, as it always was. But he wasn’t moving. His skin was paler than usual, even the dim lighting couldn’t hide that, and his mouth lolled open on his expressionless face. He wasn’t visibly hurt; there was no blood, no broken or oddly bent limbs. Normally I would have found this comforting, but these were Slytherins, their specialty was maximum damage, minimum evidence. Blaise Zabini, Draco’s ex-lover, was kneeling over him caressing his hips, arse, and thighs, looking smugly down at him like a hunter who’d just shot his prize deer. He was touching Draco like he was his, but he wasn’t his. Everyone knew he was mine!

I could see it on his face that he was pleased to see Draco this way; hurt, helpless, and vulnerable to him. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” I screamed at him and then I leapt, tackling the lean Italian boy to the ground. I pinned him with my knees and punched him in the face. I punched him again, and again, losing myself in my rage at him for hurting Draco, for touching him. As blood began to pour from his nose I felt a twisted satisfaction in my gut, but it wasn’t enough. I felt someone touch me carefully on my shoulder and I turned, finally relenting on Zabini’s face.

Hermione stood there looking scared. I looked around and saw that the room was mostly empty; behind her I could see Snape carrying Draco out. Seeing Draco again seemed to snap me back into consciousness and I was suddenly acutely aware of what I was doing. Hermione pulled me off Zabini, who was now covered in blood, by my upper arm, and I went with her willingly, suddenly disgusted at myself. I could see Snape ahead of me levitating Draco in front of him, and I ran up to see if he was alright. Snape was moving quickly and his face was stern. “Draco!” I called out as I came up behind them. “Is he alright?” I asked, but Snape didn’t respond. “Is he going to be okay? Tell me!” I demanded, but still he ignored me.

We wound up a familiar staircase, and he floated Draco awkwardly upwards. Draco looked paler than usual, he was still unconscious and his arm hung limply out beside him. I wanted to grab his hand and feel his soft smooth skin, but I didn’t want to slow his journey to the Hospital Wing. Now that I had him here with me, I was sure he was going to be okay, he had to be; how would I survive without him? The answer to that was simple enough. I wouldn’t.

“Tell me! Is he alright?” I asked Snape again sharply. I followed behind him desperately, telling myself that Draco knew he wasn’t allowed to leave me. He wouldn’t do something like that. “Snape!”

“Shut up, you stupid little brat!” Snape hissed at me. He pushed forward even faster and I ran to keep up. “This is all your fault! You Potters are always meddling in other people’s lives, stealing hearts that were never yours to take! If you had stayed away from him, my godson wouldn’t be fighting for his life right now!”

We had arrived at the entrance to the Hospital Wing and Snape pushed through the doors. I could hear him calling for Madam Pomfrey urgently, but I didn’t follow him in. I had stopped immediately in mid-stride as soon as Snape had told me Draco was fighting for his life and that it was my fault. Everything in me shut down and I couldn’t think. It was my fault. My fault. My fault.

I felt Hermione and Ron come up beside me, one on each side of me, and I was glad. Waves of hot air flushed over me and my head began to feel light and dizzy. The floor underneath me was unstable and the walls were rocking back and forth. “It’s so hot in here,” I commented just before everything went black.

--

I regained consciousness rather unpleasantly. Hermione and Ron were leaning over me shaking my shoulders roughly, and my head throbbed violently. I was still just outside the hospital wing but I was no longer upright, in fact I was staring at the cracked ceiling wondering why my body ached so much.

“You fainted,” Hermione told me as she and Ron helped me to sit up. “Come on, we should get you inside.”

“Draco,” I whispered, and Hermione frowned sadly at me. She felt sorry for me but I couldn’t take the time to be either warmed or offended by her obvious sentiment.

The two of them helped me into the mostly empty ward and sat me on one of the beds. Draco had obviously been taken into the examination room since Snape was pacing impatiently outside the exam room door. He glared at us as we came in, and I felt nauseas all over again.

Snape had been right; this was my fault. I should have stayed with Mike, I should have gone with my gut feeling that this relationship would be trouble for Draco and left him in peace. He wasn’t making it easy for me to leave him alone, but I should have been strong enough to keep saying no.

I fell back on to the bed and covered my face with my hands before taking a few deep breaths. This was worse than I thought it would be. Now that there was a very real possibility Draco would die and I would be forced to live without his touch and sweet smile, I knew my worst fears were coming true. I thought it would kill me if he died, but it was worse than that because it didn’t kill me. I was still alive and feeling every ounce of pain his potential death could cause me.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed next to my face and began to stroke my hair. As soon as I felt her cool fingers graze my forehead, as Draco had done to me this morning, the tears started to flow relentlessly. I curled into her and she continued to gently comfort me with consistent pats. I could feel Ron sitting at my feet at the other end of the bed.

I cried until I had no tears left and my feelings soaked into my muscles making me numb. I didn’t move, I just stayed there concentrating on the feel of the scratchy sheets underneath me and listening carefully to any movements from the examination room.

“Is he sleeping?” I heard Ron ask Hermione after several minutes.

“I think so, he hasn’t moved or made a sound in a while,” she answered him. She sounded weary.

“Can you believe this?” Ron sighed. “How the fuck did we get here?”

“What do you mean?” she asked. I knew what Ron meant, but I also knew why she was confused. This whole situation was fucked up; he could have been referring to anything. How did they end up here comforting me when we’d been fighting for so long? How did they end up here worrying about Draco Malfoy in the hospital wing?

“All of this,” he whispered to her, obviously trying not to wake me. “Can you imagine what we would have done if someone had told us a year ago that Harry would date Ginny, then cheat on her, turn gay, fall in love with Draco Malfoy, and we would stop being friends?”

“I wouldn’t have believed them,” she replied.

“Me either. I would have told them they were crazy and I would never have treated Harry the way I did,” he said in slight disbelief at his own words. “I would have told them there was no way he was gay, and even if he was, there was no way he’d go for a ferret like Malfoy.”

“Ron!” Hermione hissed, scolding him for teasing Draco. Part of me wanted to laugh; I remembered how much he hated that name, but I sobered quickly when the thought struck me that he couldn’t care about the name if he died tonight.

“Do you think he’ll ever properly forgive us?” Ron asked weakly.

“I don’t know,” Hermione sighed, and I wanted to tell her I would, but I didn’t know if that was true. Until I had Draco back in my arms, alive and well, I wouldn’t know, or care, about much of anything.

I must have fallen asleep after that because the next thing I remember was feeling Hermione’s fingers twist painfully in my hair, and Snape calling out to Draco’s father.

“Lucius!” he greeted the older blond, and I sat up quickly to look over at him. My head felt dizzy at the quick movement, but I was so amazed to see Draco’s father I didn’t really notice. Lucius Malfoy glared at me with narrowed eyes as he entered and I watched him cross the floor. Snape led him into Pomfrey’s office and I watched them both cautiously until they disappeared before flopping back down on to the bed.

Of course, Lucius would come, I told myself. Snape probably alerted him. Seeing him was a sharp reminder to me that, while it had felt like it recently, Draco didn’t belong solely to me. He had a family, and, most likely, family responsibilities. He told me he was sure of me, but in the face of his father I wondered how sure he would remain.

If he survived.

My gut twisted again, tying the knots in my stomach even tighter – any more and I would be sick.

I closed my eyes and images of Draco’s face appeared in my mind. They were beautiful images of times we were happy together; laughing, teasing, studying, looks of longing, and making love. They calmed me and I drifted back into a fitful sleep – I stirred at every noise and every movement.

Eventually – I’m not sure how long it had been since we’d arrived, or how late it was – Madam Pomfrey emerged. Snape and Lucius Malfoy were both gone and the ward was dark. Hermione and Ron were asleep; Hermione was lying next to me on the bed and Ron snoozed in a nearby armchair.

Pomfrey came over to me when she saw that I was awake and cast a few quiet spells over my body, checking my vitals I presumed; I could have told her myself that I was fine. As she did this, she spoke. “I can’t let you see him, I’m afraid. Lucius Malfoy has forbidden it and until young Draco contradicts that order himself I will have to obey.” I looked at her with hopeful eyes; it didn’t sound like Draco had died if she was waiting for him to counter his father’s orders. “Strictly speaking I’m not supposed to say anything, but I thought you should know that Draco will be just fine and should be awake in the morning. You may see him then should he permit it.”

I closed my eyes and before I could stop myself I was crying again – this time in relief. He was going to be alright. I repeated this in my mind like a soothing mantra, and soothe me it did.

“For now though, you need to drink up all of this and get some rest.”

She handed me what I knew from past experience to be Dreamless Sleep potion and I swallowed it gratefully before settling back into my pillow.

Draco would be okay. We would be okay.

It was the last thing I thought before I lost myself to an empty black unconsciousness.

Author's Note: Well, well, well. It appears Draco just might live. But I wonder what Lucius is telling Draco?