A Series of Connecting the Dots

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her beta work.

Chapter 19 – Draco: Beaten

When I first regained consciousness it was only temporary and I wondered if my eyes were even functioning correctly. It was dark as pitch and the only sign I had that I was actually awake was the fact that I could see several pairs of eyes peering down at me. I didn’t know who had thrown the Hex that sprawled me unconsciously to the ground, but it seemed that many were in on the plan to bring me down. I wish I had been more surprised, but my fellow Housemates always had been sheep, unable to act alone on anything.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, I realized they had taken me somewhere deep into the dungeons. The walls were laden with heavy stone, there were no windows with which to gauge the time and I was a hard, dusty floor, my body held still with a full-body bind. I recognized Pansy first; her angular cropped hair was dancing around her face as she looked from my body to the other Slytherins around her. Her eyes were wide and mad, her lips twisted into a smile. I used to feel a twinge of pity for the girl, but no longer. There were at least a dozen bodies crammed into the small, unused classroom and they all hovered around me.

“He’s awake,” Blaise announced, slinking up beside me to run a hand along my cheek. It started as a tender caress, but ended with a sharp slap, causing the others to jeer. “Our Prince has turned traitor,” he said, addressing the crowd as much as myself. He released the bind on me and I stood to face my accusers. They had stolen my wand and I knew I couldn’t fight them all off with only my fists to protect me. I had to somehow win them over with my tongue. “What shall be his punishment?”

“Death!” They shouted in unison.

“Fools!” I hissed. “The Dark Lord will have all your heads for this.”

“Shut your lying mouth, Malfoy. We’ve seen you and Potter together. Even though the silencing charms we could practically hear you begging him to take you,” Blaise replied. For him I knew this act was brought on by jealousy, but if I could just convince the others that I was still on their side, I held some hope of them overpowering him.

“I’m doing this on Voldemort’s orders. It was he who wanted Potter seduced into his grasp,” I spat. “He’ll kill you all if you ruin this when I’m so close to succeeding!”

“How dare you call him by that name,” someone hissed from the back. It was a fifth year girl I didn’t know well enough to name. Her eyes blazed across the room at me and I glared at her.

“He is my master as much as yours,” I growled, holding my arm aloft to show the Dark Mark that flamed deep green on my pale flesh. “Do you dare doubt the oath I have given him?”

There were some murmurs in the group and I could tell I was winning some of them over so I pressed on. “At the end of term I’m to bring Potter to Lord Voldemort so that he can finish the brat for good. I’m not to harm him, but hold his interests firmly in my grasp so that I can convince him to come willing to my home, Malfoy Manor, where he currently resides.”

“The Dark Lord is living at your house?” someone asked in clear reverence and I nodded. This was common knowledge amongst the older students but the younger were rarely permitted to participate in our conversations.

“He’s there now, and when I report what has happened here, he’ll be looking to spill his vengeance,” I warned. “You are preventing me from carrying out his wishes.”

“Swill, all of it,” Blaise countered. “You’ve been training your lying tongue too well, Malfoy. But you won’t convince me. I can see the change in you; I see how you fawn over the Gryffindor git. You’ve switched sides. You’ve probably already told Potter where the Dark Lord hides since you’re so willing to wield the information as a key for safe exit.”

“I have not betrayed my duty as a Malfoy, Slytherin or Death Eater,” I told them resolutely, but I could hear the hum in the air and I saw Pansy, who was particularly squeamish, leave the room. That was my only warning before a Curse hit me square in the chest. The Cruciatus brought me to my knees, gasping for breath as if my lungs were being twisted into shapes that would no longer be able to produce air. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being dragged though sharp metal shavings and my eyes were drying out because my body couldn’t process the pain enough to blink.

Suddenly the pain stopped and I gasped for breath, realizing quickly that I was back on the floor where I’d begun. Blaise knelt beside me and took my unwilling mouth in a kiss. I tried to bite his lip, claw his eyes out, but he simply backed away and shook his finger at me.

“Just more proof that you’re Potter’s man now,” he explained.

“Why? Because I won’t let you fuck me, Zabini? I hate to tell you, but that’s just high standards on my part.” I could hardly get the words out before I was hit again with the Cruciatus and this time the force of it made me scream out. It no longer felt as though I was being pulled through slicing metal, no, now it felt like my already bleeding skin was being dipped in acid, though I knew without looking that there wasn’t a single mark on my body. I knew they planned to torture me into madness, because even if I begged for it, this curse could not stop my heart from beating. I screamed for them unwillingly, knowing it would spurn their bloodlust, but unable to stop it from escaping my lips.

My eyelids started drooping as my mind shut down and disconnected me from the agony being inflicted upon me. I felt more than heard Blaise kneel beside me, but his words in my ear were unmistakable. “That’s right, Draco, go to sleep, but know that when you do, I’m going fuck you at last. I’m going to break your virgin arsehole, Malfoy, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.

I smiled up at him, or as close as I could get to a semblance of that expression. The prat probably thought I was glad to know he planned to violate me, but I just wanted to tell him ‘too late. Harry already beat you to it’. Oh what I would have given to see the look on his face when I said that, but unfortunately the darkness chose that moment to start encroaching my vision and my mouth didn’t seem to work and longer.

I felt the Curse abate once and then start again before I felt nothing at all and I said a silent apology to Harry for leaving him so soon.

I was surprised when I woke up the next time, both because I was still alive when I hadn’t expected to be, and because I felt lucid and not worthy to be admitted to St. Mungo’s psychiatric department. I was sure I would be either dead or insane after my housemates were through with me, but it appeared I was neither. Although, I supposed most of the ones who were there didn’t understand why they were, just the fact that I could reason that out meant that my attackers hadn’t done too much damage to my cunning mind.

I was also surprised because my father’s face filled my vision. “Father,” I greeted, displeased to hear how raspy my voice was. A flicker of concern flitted through his eyes before they narrowed dispassionately.

“You’ve been careless, Draco,” he lectured, as if my being in the hospital wing wasn’t proof enough for me, he had to carefully spell out my wrongdoing.

“I apologize, Father.” I was sorry. Sorry that I didn’t get to exact some brand of justice on those blasted Slytherins, sorry they had stolen my wand so that I couldn’t castrate Blaise, sorry that I had allowed myself to be captured in the first place, but I was not sorry for being with Harry and I was fairly certain that was what my father was referring to.

He bristled and nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay. When Severus fire called me I imagined the worst. Your mother is beside herself with worry. I told her not to come, if you were…well, I didn’t want her to have to see that.” He was right, Mother shouldn’t have to see my dead body; she would come to me soon enough now that I had survived my ordeal. “I assumed something like this would happen when I first heard rumors of your escapades,” he continued. “Your intentions of capturing Potter for the Dark Lord’s approval were admirable but I had hoped you would be careful at least.”

“You’re right, Father. I wasn’t careful in the least,” I replied dutifully. A Malfoy did not argue with his elders or the head of the house and my father was both of these things.

His eyes narrowed into steely daggers as he studied me. Eventually he shook his head and sighed; only because I was his son could I see the strain it took to keep from rubbing at his temples in frustration. “You’ve fallen for his charms, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Father,” I replied, but I was far less practiced in the art of schooling my features as he was and I feared it was obvious to him that I was afraid.

“This is. Not. A. Game,” he hissed, standing up and moving from the edge of my bed impatiently. He paced the narrow room, a habit my father rarely engaged in, and came to an abrupt halt by my side. “You risk us all with your foolishness, Draco. My neck, your mother’s, and your own! And for what?”

I locked my jaw and swallowed thickly, refusing to answer him. My body was still weak and I had no idea where my wand was, not that I would last a second in a duel with Lucius Malfoy. Still, it would have been somewhat reassuring to feel its weight in my palm.

“Are you able to deliver him?” my father asked at last, giving up on the idea that I might answer him. I did it all for love, it was obvious to anyone who saw us together, but father would neither hear nor accept that answer as relevant. “Use my ring and follow through with your original plan?”

I looked down at the shiny bauble on my finger and I thought of the mighty reward the Dark Lord would hand me and I could clearly see the seat he would make for me amongst his greatest followers. I could sit beside my father and my aunt, joining the Death Eater ranks as one of the elite. But then I imagined the hurt and betrayal in Harry’s eyes as he realized what I had done and I shook my head. “I cannot.” Tears stung my eyes because I knew those words would disappoint my father more than every failure I’ve produced combined into one.

His stormy gaze never left mine as he seemed to wait for me to elaborate, but no more would come from my lips on the matter. Aside from being weary to my bones, I would not provide any further ammunition for my father to use against me. Eventually he sagged, a slight movement that would go unnoticed to most, and he moved to the door. “Then you must end it. I will devise an appropriate excuse for the Dark Lord and when you graduate you will go into hiding, but you must end this nonsense with Potter at once. You two are cut from very different cloths. He cannot bear you an heir and he will never truly accept you as you are. Even if your heart has defected from Voldemort’s path, you are still a Malfoy, and Malfoys and Potters do not mix. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Father,” I answered obediently.

“He couldn’t possibly love you if he knew what you were. This is for the best, Son,” he added, gentler this time and I nodded, relieved when he finally left me alone.

From all sides our relationship was being doomed to failure and I wondered how I could possibly be confident in our future if no one else was. With father gone I succumbed to my waiting tears and I let out a hollow, broken sob. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me always knew this day would come, the day when I told either Harry, or everyone else I knew to sod off, but I had hoped that Harry and I could be happy and content for just a little while longer.

I stared down at the black ink on my forearm and watched it expand and writhe before my eyes. Could I truly stand against him? Could I defy the most powerful wizard of our time? I felt a hand on my shoulder and only then realized that I hadn’t been alone in my sorrow. Snape stood beside me like a dark statue, his face twisted with sadness. “He saved you.” His voice was soft and filled with more compassion than I’d ever heard before.

“Father?” I asked, confused by my godfather’s statement.

“Potter,” he corrected. “It was him and his band of idiot Gryffindors that came to your rescue.”

“Oh.” It should have occurred to me earlier to ask how I had gotten away safely.

“Zabini has been sent to St. Mungo’s for the injuries Potter inflicted upon him when we found you.” I could have been mistaken, but I thought I saw a hint of mirth in his voice at the words. Blaise was, of course, one of his own House, but it clearly it had been obvious that the boy was the ringleader even when Harry stormed to my rescue.

“And the others?”

“Everyone in that room has been taken to Dumbledore’s office. He’ll decide what to do with them,” Snape replied.

“Pansy was there as well. She left before they started the torture though,” I told him. I wanted her punished as well. Snape nodded and I knew he would take care of it, personally if possible. “Where is Harry now?”

“Just outside the door. Probably listening in like the impertinent little brat that he is,” my godfather replied. “He hasn’t left since you got here.”

The thought warmed me, but I worried for him. Hell, I worried for us. How could we possibly make a relationship work with such powerful opposition? “What do you think about what father said?”

“Lucius Malfoy is a wise man, but he’s made many mistakes in his life, his early loyalty to Voldemort among them. You are your own man, Draco. You are in charge of your own destiny.” I sighed and closed my eyes so that I didn’t have to look up into those unusually caring obsidian eyes any longer. I realized with a start that I was probably closer to Severus than I was to my own father, he certainly knew me better. “Should I send Potter in?”

“No,” I answered suddenly and was met with a frown when I opened my eyes. “I’m exhausted and he probably is, too.”

“And you need time to think,” Snape prompted and I nodded.

“That, too. I went into this so hastily and ignored everyone’s warnings. I need to decide if I should continue along this path or if I will start listening to reason,” I sighed. The thought of breaking up with Harry now that I knew what it was to be in love made my heart wrench painfully in my chest, but wouldn’t that be an easier fate than the one I would inflict upon us both by trying to keep him? Wouldn’t he be less mournful when I was killed for my indiscretions if I was to break his heart now? Perhaps father was right. Maybe Harry didn’t really love me now because he didn’t know everything about me. He didn’t know I was a Death Eater, or that I was originally planning to hand him over to the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t know how truly evil and scheming I could be. Could Harry still love me if I confessed everything?

Maybe breaking things off would save both of our hearts in the end.

At some point I must have drifted into a restless sleep because I could suddenly smell the freshly cut grass from the Quidditch pitch. It smelled like morning, and I could practically feel the dew on the ground. I opened my eyes and I could see Harry standing across the pitch with his broom in hand and he was staring at me with the widest grin I’d ever seen. “I’ll beat you this time,” he said, “and then I’ll take my prize.”

I grinned back, unable to help myself even in my dreams, and then he took off, flying overhead with the grace of a phoenix. I just stood there watching him for the longest time, unable to tear my eyes away from his seductive form. But then it all went tragically wrong.

The sky darkened and the Dark Mark shone brilliant green in the sky, causing a shiver to course through me. Harry kept flying, seeming not to notice the changes going on around him. My eyes automatically followed movement beside me and I looked over to see Voldemort, flanked by my aunt and father, and several others I knew intimately. They just stood there with their obsidian robes billowing in the stormy breeze and my pulse started racing. They’d found me, discovered my secret and decided to kill me at last.

The Dark Lord said nothing as he lifted his wand and aimed it up at Harry, my Harry, sending the boy tumbling to the ground with such terrifying force that I had to avert my eyes. I wanted to run to him, help him, hold him, but my feet were rooted in place and all I could do was scream wordlessly as he crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. I hadn’t expected him to get up, but he did, though it might have been better if he hadn’t. With crimson bone protruding through his beautiful flesh, Harry got up and went to stand beside my old master. His eyes were dead when I looked into them, no longer the fierce emerald blaze I remembered, but dull and sightless.

“I can kill him at any moment, Draco,” Voldemort hissed at me. “I can reach into his mind and drive him mad, or I can make him turn on you, all for my entertainment.”

As if to punctuate his words, he gave a little wave of his hand and Harry shot Hex after Hex at me. I felt my wand light in my hand, but I was unable to fire back, unwilling to hurt him even though my mind knew it was no longer my Harry in that body. Just the fragment of hope that it might one day be him again kept me from raising my own wand.

One of the Hexes struck true at last and my body vibrated in stinging pain. I tried to tell my brain that it was just residual from the Crucio curses I’d been subjected to earlier, but it refused to listen and argued that this was real. Harry was truly attacking me, and even if it wasn’t true right now, it would be one day. A thin sheen of sweat coated my body as I stared back into those empty eyes until I just couldn’t take it anymore and I screamed, letting them hear the sound my heart made as it shattered.

“Stop it!” I shouted, but Harry wouldn’t look at me and the Death Eaters just laughed at my pain. “Leave us alone,” I sobbed, falling to my knees. All I wanted was to be able to forget the mess all around us and be alone and happy with Harry. “Harry, I love you, please stop!” I cried, but my lover leveled his wand at me one last time, a haunted look on his face as he mouthed the words of the killing curse. I could clearly see the jet of green light coming toward me, its light blinding me until I shut my eyes against it. I braced for the impact, but it never came. Instead I felt a gentle burning sensation through my body and I opened my eyes to find Madam Pomfrey standing over me with her wand making jittery motions above my body.

“You were having a nightmare, Mr. Malfoy,” she explained. “When I came to check on you, your body was contorted in pain. This should help to ease some of that in just a few moments.”

I nodded, closing my eyes again until I heard her bustle away and return to my side again. “Drink this,” she ordered and I looked up to see the Dreamless Sleep Draught. I took it from her hand and gulped it down, eager to avoid that nightmare again. It wasn’t long before my eyelids grew too heavy to keep lifted and I fell back into a deep sleep, this time, without pain and without Voldemort looming on the edge of my consciousness.

The fourth time I woke, I was grateful to find myself alone in my room. It was morning and sunlight was streaming through the window to lie harshly against my squinted gaze. I couldn’t begrudge the sun its obscene shine since it also served to wash away some of the terror and worries of the previous night. I took a deep breath, as if I could absorb that sunlight into my soul and then let it out again, hoping I was expelling the last bits of pain along with it.

Harry was right outside my door, I could practically sense the beat of his heart. I had to steel myself, resolve to do what was best for Harry. I was determined not to be selfish any longer and I would end things. I hoped it was still early enough for our hearts to recover and maybe Harry would even find a way to repair things with Corner, though thoughts of that turned my blood to ice.

It had to be a clean break, I knew, one that would leave him with no doubts that a relationship between us was a terrible idea. I thought over how I could manage that. Sleep with Ron Weasley perhaps? But that was too ghastly to think about for long, Granger was a more appealing option, but that wasn’t saying much. Maybe I should just whip out my Dark Mark and let him run away screaming? My gut lurched as I realized this was a realistic option; I’d been amusing – and disgusting – myself with the first few suggestions, knowing it would never happen. But, I hadn’t applied any more Vanishing cream to my Mark since yesterday, and it was still dark and ominous on my skin.

I hadn’t yet had time to think of the right thing to say or do when I heard the door click open. “Yes, Mr. Potter, I’ll check to see if he’s awake yet,” Madam Pomfrey was telling someone – presumably Harry – behind her before she turned and spotted me sitting up in bed. “Oh. Mr. Malfoy, you look a good deal better this morning.”

“I feel better,” I told her, though that wasn’t true at all. I felt like a sick prat for coming up with scenarios to break Harry’s heart, but she was concerned with different wounds, so I gave her the answer she needed.

“Mr. Potter’s outside waiting to see you. Should I let him in?” she asked, heading back toward the door as if she already knew the answer.

I wanted to say no, perhaps avoidance was the way to do it, but I shook that thought away. Not only was it cowardly, but it wasn’t the clean break I had imagined at all. I knew it had to be swift to work the way I needed it to. I needed to be convincing when I explained that I didn’t really love him and I never would. It was best to get this over with while I was still cranky and in pain.

“Yes, send him in.”

Her beaming smile wavered somewhat at my tone but she did as I bid her and Harry rushed through the door and to my side. “Oh, Draco, thank the gods you’re alright,” he gasped, taking my hand into his.

I didn’t have anything to say for a moment as I looked up into his lovely green gaze, his eyes ringed with red. I lost my words; unable to spit out the venom I had planned for him to hear, I swallowed it instead. His face displayed such sincere relief as he stared down at me and I couldn’t bring myself to wipe that look from his stunning features. Merlin, I loved him so much and there was no amount of acting that would convince me otherwise. I could be selfish for just a little while longer. What could it hurt after all? I wasted no breath answering him, but instead pulled his face to mine in a deep kiss. I couldn’t stop this relationship from progressing; I was addicted to him and unwilling to give up my drug of choice no matter how many people told me it was unhealthy and wrong.

He climbed awkwardly into the bed with me and wrapped himself around my aching body. I held my face as still as possible so as not to wince and make him think he’d hurt me. He had, but it was a pain I could deal with so long as his arms were around me and his lips on mine. Seconds blended into minutes and the minutes stretched out even longer before we finally parted. His lips were so beautifully swollen and I leaned back slightly to take in the rest of him, only to be swatted on the arm.

“Ow,” I whined. “What was that for?”

“You promised that you would be careful and keep yourself out of harm’s way. You said you still had power over them,” he huffed indignantly.

“Clearly I was mistaken.” I thought that fact was fairly obvious, but apparently Harry still needed to vent.

His body relaxed and he snuggled back into my side, all signs of ranting vanished for the time being. “I wanted to come in sooner but your father told Pomfrey that I wasn’t allowed.”

I sighed, his comment reminded me of the demand my father had made on me before he left. “He told me to break up with you,” I informed him. We already had too many secrets between us, I didn’t want to make even more.

“And you told him no, didn’t you?” Harry asked, worry creasing his features.

“That would have been highly unwise,” I replied sullenly. “I agreed to do as he said. I hadn’t meant it at the time, I only conceded to get him to leave, but then I thought on it more after he left and started to wonder if he might be right. We’re safer apart than we are together, Harry.”

Harry remained silent, watching me with as little emotion playing across his face as I’ve ever seen on him. It was as if he was waiting for the punch line of this humorless joke.

“Voldemort wants you dead, and Dumbledore wants me to leave you alone. The Slytherins tried to kill me because I’m in love with the enemy - and you can’t fool yourself into thinking we’re not enemies even though we’re lovers as well. We have different views, different morals, different everything. I’m still a pureblood. I’m still a Malfoy. I’m still a Slytherin. None of that has changed just because I fell in love with you. We were born enemies.”

“How can you say that?” he demanded, but I stopped him before he could continue.

“Like it or not we are on opposite sides of this war, Harry. Could you fight me if it came to that?” I asked him seriously.

“Could you?!” he asked, his voice rising in pitch. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d failed to answer my own question.

“No,” I replied honestly. I couldn’t even lift my wand to stun an Imeriused Harry in my dreams. There was no way possible I could hurt the living, breathing boy here in front of me. “I couldn’t. I would let you strike me down before I’d even raise my wand.”

“I can’t believe you’d think that I would do that,” he growled, clearly incensed. “I can’t believe after all of this…”

“That what? That I’m still a Malfoy even though I’m your Malfoy, that I’m still a Slytherin even though I’m your Slytherin? Did you think that I would throw my beliefs in the rubbish and adopt yours?” I pressed, but he just sat there gaping at me. “I love you, Harry. I’ve never loved anyone before you, but you have to see this clearly. If we stay together, we both need to be fully aware of what lies ahead of us. Maybe somehow you’ll convince me before its too late that Muggles are just as good as wizards, but I doubt it. Maybe I’ll make you see that your pureblood father was better than your Muggle mother, but I doubt that as well.”

I started to continue, but Harry put his fingers over my lips and closed his eyes. “Enough,” he sighed, sounding thoughtful and resigned. “I hear what you’re saying, I just need a minute to think.”

I nodded, knowing he could feel the movement through his fingertips against my face even though his eyes were squeezed tight. I’m sure Harry had, at some point, thought of every argument that I’d just mentioned as to why we should not be together, but I needed to be sure of it. I did love him, and nothing would stop that, not even if we were forced apart, but I couldn’t live with myself if our decision to stay together got Harry hurt or killed. The Slytherins had already come after me, how long would it be before someone attacked Harry? What if I wasn’t able to get to him as quickly as he’d gotten to me? What if someday soon I had to attend Harry’s funeral? I couldn’t even bear the thought.

In a flash, he pulled his fingers away from my lips and his eyes flew wide open. He just stared at me for a long moment before leaning in and kissing a trail along my damp cheeks. It wasn’t until then that I realized I had been crying. The sheer idea of standing in front of Harry’s casket drove me mad with grief.

“Shhh,” he soothed, letting his mouth, now wet and salty with my own tears, lightly caress my lips. “We can get through anything if we’re together.”

My chest heaved at the sentiment, both naïve and touching all at once. Oh, how I loved my beautiful, mushy Gryffindor. I wound my arms around his waist and pulled him into me, working my fingers beneath his jumper so that I could touch his warm flesh.

His lips left mine to trail along my jaw and neck in a hot line. I gasped, kneading my fingers into his back as I drove our erections together with blinding force, forgetting the ache in my bones. I moaned against the shell of his ear as we rutted against one another like a couple of inexperienced teenage boys, which I supposed was sort of what we were. I often felt so much older than sixteen because I had experienced so much already: love, hate, fear, bliss, life, and soon death. Hissing against the delicious friction, I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my cry of release and within moments his mouth was on mine again and he was groaning from his own orgasm. It was over too fast for my liking and I wanted more of him, to feel his naked flesh against my own, to have the time to explore him and find the spots that made him cry out. Unfortunately, the hospital wing was not the place for that.

“I think Ron and Hermione are still outside,” Harry whispered after showering my face with kisses. He looked to the door, which was still gaping open from where Pomfrey left, and his cheeks were tinged with that beautiful blush I adored. “I really hope they didn’t hear any of that.”

I grinned mischievously and winked at him in reply. “I hope Weasley heard every moan,” I replied and he swatted my arm playfully. Unfortunately the endorphins from our short romp had worn off and I couldn’t stop the wince as his light slap echoed through me like a Stinging Hex.

“Oh, Draco,” he gasped, looking deeply apologetic. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure it will wear off soon enough,” I placated. “Really, I’m quite lucky if some residual pain is all I got from being so thoroughly Crucioed.”

Harry closed his eyes and buried his face in my shoulder. “I had a feeling that’s what they did, but Draco, it’s so horrid. How could your own housemates attack you that way?”

“I blacked out after the third time,” I admitted, hoping it might ease his concerns somehow. “They probably would have driven me mad with it, or used Avada on me eventually. I warned you about them, Harry. I could feel the stir of righteous Slytherin scheming polluting the air all around us.”

“How did they get you?” he asked. “You said you were being careful.”

“I was distracted,” I told him honestly. “I had just left Snape’s office after dropping you off near the Headmaster’s and I had a million thoughts running through my mind.”

“Was Snape telling you to break things off with me as well?” Harry huffed, his eyes narrowing automatically.

“No,” I defended. I had a soft spot for my godfather that I hadn’t realized was there until recently. “He suggested I tell my housemates that I was with you because the Dark Lord commanded it. He’s the only one who hasn’t told me to break up with you, though it hasn’t stopped him from calling me a simpering Hufflepuff,” I grumbled.

“Did he?”

“Call me names?” I asked incredulously. “Does that really seem all that farfetched?”

“Of course, not,” Harry scoffed. “I didn’t mean Snape I, meant Vol-”

“Is everything alright in here?” Ron asked from the doorway, carefully averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s been rather quiet. I wanted to make sure you haven’t strangled one another.”

“Everything’s fine,” Harry answered and I nodded to confirm his assessment.

“Right,” he stammered, clearly uncertain as to what to do next. “Mione and I were thinking about grabbing some breakfast, Harry. Can you leave yet, Malfoy?”

“I doubt it. Knowing Pomfrey she’ll want me to imbibe at least three more disgusting potions and have me rest for a bit longer. But you go on, Harry. You’ve been here all night; you need to have something to eat.”

“I don’t want-” he began but I feathered my hand through his unruly hair and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“I insist. I’ll be rotten company for the next couple of hours anyhow. If she lets me out of here before you get a chance to come back, I’ll track you down. Deal?” I prompted. I was eager to steer clear of where our last conversation had been going. Now that I had made the decision to defy my father and Voldemort, I didn’t want Harry discovering the truth about why I started courting him, but I didn’t want to lie either. That was all in the past now. Regardless of what got me to this point, I loved my Gryffindor and I could never turn him over to the Dark Lord.

He reluctantly agreed, but he kept turning back to glance at me as he followed Weasley out the door. When he was gone my heart ached instantly, but I pushed the feeling aside and sunk down into the covers. My whole body felt like someone had wrung it out to dry and twisted really hard. It wasn’t long before Madam Pomfrey was having me chug potions as I’d suspected and my empty stomach started heaving restlessly.

She moved me out into the main area, setting me up on a bed away from the windows that had the most glare, for which I was thankful. I was lying there with my eyes closed, clutching my uncomfortably churning stomach when I heard the door creak open. I peeked to see if it was my Harry coming back from breakfast, although it seemed too early for him to have returned already I thought maybe he had skipped it to be with me, but I was dead wrong.

Prancing through the door as if she owned the entire castle was Pansy Parkinson. She flitted over to my bed and propped herself up on the edge of it, leaning in to place a kiss on my lips. I turned my head so she got my cheek instead and she pouted down at me like a petulant child. “I thought you’d have been expelled by now, Parkinson,” I snapped and her pout turned into a haughty grin.

“You should know better than that, Lover,” she cooed. “The most I could get was a slap on the wrist. I wasn’t even there. Only your faggot Gryffindor could even speculate that I knew anything about it.” Her voice was like a singsong chime, as if she were lording the news over me.

“Has Snape been to visit you yet?” I asked and her eyes darkened instantly.

“No, why should he?” she asked.

“He’ll have his own punishments for the ones who evaded Dumbledore’s. Personally, I would have taken the Headmaster’s if I were you,” I quipped, smirking casually at her. “Who knows what delicious contraptions Severus has lurking in the locked dungeon rooms.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was scared. I was incensed that she hadn’t been expelled along with the others, but no matter, Snape would grab her up when it pleased him and I certainly wouldn’t stand in his way. “Enough about boring things,” she chirped. “I’m here to pass along a message.”

“And that would be?” I asked dully, but my own heart thrummed desperately in my chest.

“You’re going to die, Draco,” she told me, her pitch still high and unwieldy. “Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow night, but soon. The Slytherins left at Hogwarts are all looking forward to getting a piece of you, and I must say, it will be well worth the wait. I should know after all,” she added with a wink.

“Because it worked so well the last time you tried,” I remarked, and her gaze leveled on me as she gestured toward the hospital bed my broken body was currently lying in.

“Practice makes perfect, and we know where you sleep.” Her grin widened as she surveyed my dull reaction, but something else caught my attention, something much more interesting.

“Harry,” I chimed. “Parkinson here thinks she can walk about making threats on my life. What do you think about that, Love?”

Author's Note: So, this is a rather mild cliffhanger for the readers, but really I only write to stump my dear Laurel. *grin*