The Devil Runs Wild

*******~The Darkness~

Breathing heavily, Harry’s eyes began to widen as he strained to see throughout the dark, damp room. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten here, but one thing was for certain: this was not a dream.

Heart racing, Harry started panicking as he realized that the room seemed to be getting even darker.

“Harry!” a voice called out and Harry jumped.

Harry looked around the room but certainly could not see to whom the voice belonged.

“Harry!” the voice rang out again and Harry realized who’s voice it was.

“Draco?” he asked, cautiously. For all he knew, it could just be something that sounded like Draco.

“Potter, wake up!”

“Huh?”

Draco Malfoy shook Harry Potter awake and when Harry finally came to, it seemed he was surprised to be in his own bed as he looked around the room suspiciously.

“What? I was..” Harry stuttered, looking around his room warily. He was in his bed with Malfoy and apparently what he had just experienced had been a dream….but it hadn’t felt like one, it had felt real.

“What is it, Potter?” Malfoy asked, an eyebrow rising in question.

“I…I don’t know,” Harry said simply because he didn’t know. Then Harry realized something completely off the topic but seemed to interest him enough at the moment to voice it. “You called me ‘Harry,’” he said, looking at Draco distrustfully. Draco had called his name out at first, his first name, hadn’t he?

Draco opened his mouth to correct such a lie, but he realized that he had indeed said Potter’s first name. Potter had hit him across the chest with a flailing arm while he slept and Draco had woken with a start and immediately called out ‘Harry.’ Strange; he would have thought his first response would have been to hit Potter and call him an idiot. Apparently, his still half-asleep brain at the time hadn’t agreed.

“Momentarily loss of mind, Potter. Don’t think too much on it,” Draco said and rolled out of bed to pad across the room and out the door before he could see too fully the confusion that was forming on Potter’s face. He knew that Potter, being the Gryffindor that he was, was thinking something that was entirely ridiculous, probably thinking that saying his first name brought some type of level of intimacy to their ‘relationship.’ Stupid Gryffindors, Draco thought as he closed the door to the bathroom.

Harry sat in bed, confusion written across his face, thinking and contemplating the meaning of Draco saying his first name, waking him up with a relatively gentle shake as if they were close friends. Draco had woken him up the same way Ron might have had he been here. It was…Harry didn’t know what, but it had to mean something, right?

*******

“What do you mean it felt real, Harry?” Hermione asked, looking worried as she sat down slowly on the empty chair in the living room.

“I mean that it felt real. I mean, it felt like I was really there,” Harry said.

“Probably just a really realistic dream, mate. I’ve had those before,” Ron said, helpfully passing Harry a plate of fruit. Food always seemed to be the solution to everything for Ron and Harry rolled his eyes, sighing, and leaning back in his chair.

“I could feel, smell, see…it felt real,” Harry insisted.

Draco leaned forward in his chair slightly. “Is this similar to that vision you had about me?”

Harry looked at Draco, a strong urge not to scare or worry Draco boiling in his stomach. Harry didn’t say anything, but Draco seemed to take that as an affirmation.

“Well..shit,” Draco said, flopping back into his chair. Harry looked down at the ground, feeling a bit queasy. He didn’t want to worry Draco.

Hermione glared at Draco for seeming to make Harry feel worse but he didn’t even acknowledge her.

“I think we should talk to Dumbledore,” Hermione said, walking over to the fireplace and looking back expectantly at the others, who stood up after a few seconds of staring.

“But Hermione, what if it’s just a dream?” Ron whined as he was glared into getting up from his comfortable chair and away from his wonderful breakfast.

“Harry doesn’t think it is, so we’re going!” Hermione snapped.

Harry watched Hermione and Ron floo to the Burrow, even more worried about the whole thing as he picked up his floo powder.

“Lets just hope you have an overactive imagination, Potter,” Draco said and Harry jumped.

“Er…right,” Harry said and dropped the floo powder, but not before seeing a slight flicker of worry on Draco’s own face.

Harry felt nauseous.

*********
Upon arriving in the Weasley’s fireplace, Harry promptly threw up on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said as he rubbed his stomach and stood back up straight.

Mrs. Weasley drew her wand and cleaned away the mess as Draco popped in behind him.

“Potter, I know you grew up with muggles, but the polite thing to do is to move away from the fireplace when someone else is arriving,” Draco said and poked Potter in the back to nudge him forward so that he could climb through.

“Oh..um..sorry,” Harry said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Draco looked at him suspiciously.

“What happened?” he asked Potter, who looked a bit green.

“He’s sick!” Hermione said and rushed over to Harry who was already being attended by Mrs. Weasley with some basic disease searching spells.

“Well, you don’t have the flu or anything else that I can find, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said and she put her hand over Harry’s forehead to check his temperature in the muggle way and Harry blushed. Being cared for like this always felt new to Harry.

“He’s just worried,” Draco said, looking straight at Harry.

“You…how…you can feel that too?” Harry asked.

“No, but anyone who has eyes can see it, Potter,” Draco said and Hermione and Mrs. Weasley squeaked at the insult. Draco denied his urge to chuckle at the two befuddled women and walked straight up to Potter who looked up at him nervously. “You need to learn how to control your reactions, Potter. You’re like an open book otherwise and you don’t want the Dark Lord to know all your secrets, do you?” Draco said seriously.

Harry just looked at Draco’s eyes. Draco didn’t look worried anymore; in fact, he looked confident and unafraid, unlike Harry who was throwing up all over Mrs. Weasley’s nice, clean floor from anxiety over it all. If Draco could appear calm and Draco wanted him to, then Harry was determined to try.

Harry nodded his head in agreement with Draco. Harry thought he saw Draco’s eyes soften for a moment but Malfoy drew himself back so quickly, he couldn’t be sure.

“What is the meaning of coming here when Harry is sick?” Mrs. Weasley asked, interrupting the staring between the two boys.

Hermione, turning away from the scene that she was determined to investigate further at a later date, replied to Mrs. Weasley.

“We came to see Dumbledore. Harry had another…dream,” Hermione said, not really knowing what to call Harry’s ‘dream.’ A vision, a very realistic dream, or an actual event? Perhaps Voldemort had found a way to portkey Harry to him through his dreams. Hermione shivered at the thought.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said gravely. Hermione immediately knew something was on Mrs. Weasley’s mind.

“What is it, Mrs. Weasley?” Hermione asked directly.

“Oh, well…I really shouldn’t say anything,” Mrs. Weasley, looking at Harry with concern.

“I’m fine,” Harry assured her. “What is it?”

“Oh, well, I’m not saying it means anything but well Severus has been keeping eye on all the Death Eaters, at least the ones the Dark Lord is giving orders to, but he has been unable to locate one…,” Mrs. Weasley paused here and looked both at Harry and then at Draco with concern.

“My father?” Draco asked.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. Harry tried to figure out how Malfoy had picked up on that when he had no idea it was coming.

Draco appeared tight lipped and straight faced, no emotional reaction to the reference of his father, unlike the way he had behaved the time before in Harry’s presence. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if Malfoy was putting on an act for his sake; you know, the whole “control your reactions” bit.

“Malfoy?” Harry asked, referring to Lucius. Draco looked at him. “Not you,” Harry said. Wow, Harry thought, Draco was really losing his concentration over this news. Harry assumed he was right about the act then.

“Now, it might not be anything,” Mrs. Weasley said, although she didn’t really believe it herself.

“Oh, this it terrible!” Hermione shouted and threw her hands into the air, storming off into the kitchen. Harry and Ron exchanged looks. Malfoy walked passed Harry to follow into the kitchen. This being a strange occurrence, Malfoy following Hermione’s lead, Harry quickly went in after and Ron followed on his heels.

Hermione was already pacing in front of Dumbledore’s portrait, upset and a bit distraught. She knew this meant something was happening and it very well involve Harry’s bond with Malfoy, a bond she hadn’t been able to fix! This was terrible!

“What has happened?” Dumbledore asked, seeing everyone rush into the kitchen, with Hermione in quite a state.

“This is terrible!” Hermione said again and continued her pacing.

Clearly, Draco thought, Granger wasn’t able of speech at this particular moment and he intervened.

“My father cannot be found and Harry had a dream, or rather a nightmare that seemed to be very real,” Draco said.

“Real?” Dumbledore asked, eyes falling upon Harry.

“Yes,” Draco answered.

Harry looked up at him as Draco answered for him, feeling a bit…odd…about the fact that Draco spoke for him as if he had every right to. It was just…odd.

“Is this true, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

“Um..oh..yeah,” Harry said, pulling his eyes away from Draco’s calm expression to look at the portrait.

“He couldn’t tell it was a dream,” Draco said, explaining for Harry again. Harry felt strange again.

The conversation seemed to go on like that, Draco answering when Harry wasn’t quick enough and Harry kept feeling strange.

Then Harry realized that it felt natural for Draco to be speaking for him. He couldn’t seem to find anything wrong with it, or the fact that Draco was now directing him to sit down by way of an order almost. Harry sat down as if nothing was wrong with Draco Malfoy ordering him to do something. He saw Ron and Hermione exchange glances as he sat down at the kitchen table and couldn’t blame them for thinking this was weird. He thought it was quite strange but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that this all felt so natural, as if he really had been one of Draco’s original cronies. He knew that he liked being with Malfoy but….Perhaps, Harry thought, he was beginning to like Malfoy too much.

“Draco,” Dumbledore interrupted Malfoy during his retelling of Harry’s dream, “Have you noticed that Harry seems to obey you?”

“What?” Draco blinked. He looked at Harry who he had just asked to sit down. Harry seemed to blush under the scrutiny of all in the room. “Potter doesn’t ‘obey’ anyone,” Draco said confused.

Potter blushed and Draco smacked him on the back of the head for his inappropriate desires. “Focus! Can’t you stop thinking about sex for one minute!” he yelled, angrily.

Harry yelped and blushed harder as silence filled the room after Draco’s words.

Draco watched Potter simply yelp out as his head was hit and realized something was wrong. Potter wasn’t standing up to hit him back or yell at him. Potter hadn’t even raised a hand to rub his sore head. He just…sat there.

“Shit,” Draco said.

“What?” Potter asked and looked up at him, worriedly.

Draco sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Potter asked again, concern clearly evident in his voice.

“Shit,” Draco said.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “I think we should check the bond again,” Dumbledore said grimly.

Hermione appeared horrified, Ron seemed slightly fearful, Draco looked exhausted as he put a hand on his forehead, and Mrs. Weasley looked deeply worried.

Harry was just confused.