A Love So Belated
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
46,650
Reviews:
358
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
46,650
Reviews:
358
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 2: Without Recourse
Chapter Number/Total: 2/44
Chapter Title: Without Recourse
Words: 3126 Words
Harry walked through the Ministry with Ron and Hermione, people tipping their hats to them as they went, smiling and giving waves. None of the people knew them. It made Harry almost want to roll his eyes, but he felt guilty for thinking that way.
The three of them had been called as witnesses in Goyle's trial. It had been a couple weeks since Harry had dropped off Malfoy's wand. He hadn't seen the man since. He wondered, in the very back of his mind, how he was doing, but mostly Harry had his hands full. It seemed like there were constant award ceremonies, constant memorial services, and constant funerals. He didn't have room to think of anything except what was in front of him. It all seemed as though it would never end.
They rounded a corner and found the hall where some wizard had told them to sit and wait to be called. There were a few people that Harry didn't know sitting in the hall as well. He took a seat in one of the chairs against the wall. Ron sat on his left and Hermione next to him.
Draco detested going out in public these days, and into the Ministry was far worse than any other place. Most people wouldn't even look at him. He preferred that to the ones who sneered or even, in a few cases, spat on him. It made leaving the Manor an ordeal. He had his wand back but he was on probation, so he didn't even dare threaten them. He made his way to the floor where the trials took place and then nearly stopped and turned around. Potter was there with his friends. He sighed and took a seat as far away from them as possible.
Harry had looked up when Draco entered and watched him sit down. The blond was dressed better and his hair was combed, but it was long and a bit ragged. He still looked impossibly pale and a bit thinner than Harry remembered.
Ron nudged Harry unnecessarily, nodding in Draco's direction. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.
"Bet he'll defend the bastard," Ron muttered.
Harry frowned, glancing at Draco. He didn't know if he would defend Goyle or not.
Draco heard Weasley but ignored him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and staring at his own hands.
Harry shrugged to Ron's comment. "Maybe," he said to shut him up. "Maybe he won't," he added nonchalantly. He didn't know why he was sort of poorly sticking up for Draco Malfoy. He supposed he felt a little sorry for him.
Ron looked doubtful, shaking his head.
Draco glanced at Potter but quickly away again.
"Does it matter?" asked Hermione, glancing at Malfoy as well. Harry recognised it as the tone she used when she too was trying to shut Ron up. Harry had told them both about the time he'd spent at Draco's - well, most of it anyway. He'd left out some things. Hermione had been a bit more sorry than Ron, but neither of them had seen him like Harry had. Hermione looked at him now though, obviously taking in the blond’s appearance.
Draco shifted uncomfortably, sitting back now and closing his eyes. He didn't want to be there. Unfortunately, being a witness against his "former associates" was one of the conditions of his probation. He felt like a traitor to his old friend.
A door off to the side opened then and a woman stepped out, wearing official-looking black robes. "Miss Hermione Granger?" she called, reading from a scroll of parchment.
Hermione stood.
"Come with me," the woman told her, going back through the door from which she had come.
Hermione gave Harry and Ron quick waves before she left, closing the door behind her.
Harry sighed, sinking down in his chair. He'd had to attend plenty of trials in the past weeks. He was sick of them. He glanced at Draco again, eyeing the dark circles set against the very pale skin. Next to him, Ron shifted as well.
"Where's his mummy do you think?" Ron asked in a low voice. "Surprised she's not with him."
Harry sighed very quietly. "I don't know," he said.
Draco frowned, glancing at Ron but then doing his best to control his temper. He just wanted this over with.
Ron met Draco's eyes, raising his brows. Harry remembered that during the last confrontation they'd had, Ron had punched Draco in the face.
"Don't, Ron," he said quietly. "We're in the bloody Ministry."
"I'm not doing anything," Ron said indignantly.
Harry sighed again. "Okay. I'm just saying," he replied.
Draco shook his head and looked away.
Some of the other people were called from the room. Ron, thankfully, didn't try to start anything with Malfoy. He was very touchy these days and got angry easily. Harry thought it might have had to do with Fred. They sat there for what felt like forever, until the door opened again and "Mr Ronald Weasley" was called.
"See you," he said to Harry, leaving like Hermione had.
Draco was surprised to find himself alone in the hall with Potter. He glanced up at him.
Harry looked over at Draco just as Draco looked over at him. He nodded. "Malfoy," he said by way of greeting.
"Potter," Draco acknowledged with a nod.
Harry nodded again, looking away and drumming a random beat with his hands on his knees. "Been all right?" he asked, looking over again.
Draco snorted at that. "Same." Then after a pause, "You?"
"I'm all right," Harry answered. Technically, he'd been all right the last time he'd seen Malfoy, so it wasn't a lie.
Draco nodded. "I've been keeping up with you in the news," he said softly.
Harry arched an eyebrow. That was an odd thing to say. "Oh," he said, shifting a little. "Same old stuff, I guess."
Draco sighed, nervous and unsure of what to do.
They sat in silence for a full minute, but Harry knew that they were going to have quite some time alone together. "How's your mum?" he asked. That was one of the strangest things he could've asked since he didn't even know Draco's mum, but he too was at a loss for words and didn't feel like sitting in awkward silence for God knew how long.
Draco glanced up in surprise. "She is ... doing a bit better," he replied.
Harry nodded. "That's ... good," he said. "I didn't know that ... she wasn't doing okay to begin with." But of course she couldn't be, her husband was in Azkaban. Perhaps she was as bad as Draco was.
"It was a ... difficult year," Draco said softly.
"Yeah, I - yeah," Harry said, and nodded once again for filler. He didn't know what to ask about. Asking Malfoy what he wanted to do with his life would probably upset him. Asking him a lot of things would probably upset him and Harry didn't really want that. The image of Draco and the others that had been at the Manor, screeching in pain and terror, flashed through Harry's mind, seen through Voldemort's eyes. He winced. He could only imagine the kind of year Malfoy had had.
"Where do you live these days?" Draco asked.
"I'm staying over at the Bur - at the Weasleys'," Harry answered. "Don't know how long I'll be there. I've got a place, but ..." He trailed off, shrugging.
"You do?" Draco asked.
"Yeah, it was my godfather's," Harry said. "Kind of a big place for one bloke."
"The Black house?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Harry answered, not surprised that Draco knew. His aunt, after all, had killed Sirius and his mother had sent Kreacher on his mission that had essentially helped to accomplish that. Harry sighed. That all seemed like such a long time ago. Kreacher had fought in the bloody war for fuck's sake.
Just then, the door opened again. The same woman came out but didn't need her list to call, "Mr Draco Malfoy." Harry didn't know if he was imagining it, but her face changed when she said his name, like she'd just been forced to utter the name of something unclean. He frowned slightly.
Draco sighed and got to his feet. He looked at Harry and nodded, before following her into the chamber beyond.
Harry let out a slow breath, staring at the place where Malfoy's rough-looking blond head had disappeared. He did feel sorry for him. He still thought him to be a complete prick - he hadn't forgotten about all of the things he'd done in school, all of the things he'd said to Harry, to Harry's friends. No, he hadn't forgotten those things, but the fact still remained that Draco wouldn't have killed Dumbledore, wouldn't have killed Harry, either. Harry didn't know if it was just because he was unable, too afraid to do it, or if it did involve something else. The former seemed more likely to him, but even so, what did it matter which motive had kept the man from killing? He hadn't killed, which made him different from so many that had. And, as much of a stuck-up arsehole that he was, he didn't deserve what he was going through. Or maybe he did. Harry didn't really know what he thought. All he knew was that Draco had been able to tell exactly what had been going on inside his head. It had been strange, and it intrigued Harry. Draco also hadn't told him to get over it - to just forget the things he felt. Harry had told Draco to do it, but Draco hadn't said that to him. Even Ginny, though she did it in a very loving, thoughtful way, had told Harry to just get over it. Harry let out another long breath.
***
Draco hunched his shoulders. His mother would disapprove of his posture, but he felt nervous outside of the Manor these days. He had even considered wearing a cloak with a hood, but the scorching August heat made the idea impractical and likely to draw as much attention as it would hide him. His potions supplies were very low and his mother was still feeling poorly. So he tapped the bricks with his wand and entered Diagon Alley, making his way toward the Apothecary shop as quickly as he could.
"Ooh, well lookie over there," came a lofty voice from a short distance away. It might not have been directed at Draco, but then, "That's Draco Malfoy, that is, Mitch."
Then a second voice sounded, that of Mitch, the first man's friend. "Ah, yeah, can see the resemblance to good ol' dad. I ever tell you what Lucius Malfoy did to my cousin?" The voice dripped with resentment and barely contained anger.
Draco kept his head down but his hand slipped inside his pocket. At least with his wand back, he now had a chance to defend himself if necessary. Problem was that he had to be careful not to break the restrictions of his probation. He gritted his teeth and continued down the street.
It was no good, the two men followed, moving to walk on each side of him. "What's the hurry, lad?" the first man asked. He was large, with dark hair and eyes.
Mitch didn't speak, but stuck close to Draco on the left. He was a little shorter than Draco was, but he was also quite large. And his hand was in his robe pocket.
"I was cleared of charges; leave me alone," Draco hissed.
They laughed at him. "You little bastard," Mitch said lowly, "because that's what you are now. Your father is going to be locked up for a long time."
"Almost a shame, though," said the first man. "You never got to teach him a lesson."
"Yeah," Mitch agreed. "He put my cousin in St Mungo's, your dad did. How would he feel about his son joining her?"
Draco glanced about, looking for a possible escape route. He was not up for a physical fight with these two, and if he hexed them, there was a high chance of joining his father in Azkaban. He found himself weighing the choice of prison or a beating.
***
Harry strolled along the street, hands in his pockets as he looked inside shop windows. He was searching for a birthday present for Ginny. Her birthday was only a few days away, August 11th, and he had no idea what to get her. Maybe a pair of new earrings or something.
He paused to stare in a window at some robes hanging there. He didn't think she really needed those. He shrugged and continued on his way, shuffling his feet. He turned the corner, where he knew there was a jewellery shop, but then faltered. His eyes were immediately drawn to three figures a bit ahead of him. Two rather hulking men and a tall, overly-thin blond man in the middle. He frowned. Had Malfoy gone and gotten himself two new bodyguards to take Crabbe and Goyle's place? But as he watched, the shorter of the two grasped Draco's shoulder in a tight grip, too tight a grip. Harry narrowed his eyes, his hand automatically closing on his wand handle inside his robe.
***
"Care for a drink, Malfoy?" Mitch asked Draco, hand closing on his shoulder tightly.
"Yeah, it'll be loads of fun," Mitch's friend agreed.
"I don't want trouble. Just leave me alone," Draco answered, trying to dislodge the hand on him.
The two steered Draco onto a narrow side street then, much quicker than it seemed they should've been able to move. The taller man took Draco under the arms with ease, pulling him back into the shadows, while Mitch pulled his wand. "Silencio," he muttered, rendering Draco unable to use his voice. And then he said, "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," as he drew his arm back and punched Draco right in the gut.
Draco had a moment to decide whether or not to fight back. He had been beaten plenty of times in seventh year and knew he would most likely survive. But it would destroy his mother if he was sent to Azkaban. He dropped his hand to his side and closed his eyes as the first blow hit, doubling him over.
There was a fierce gleam in Mitch's eyes as he drew his fist back again, hitting Draco once more in the gut and then landing one on his jaw. But then, quite suddenly, there was a flash of red light and Mitch fell forward.
Harry stood behind him, wand pulled and breathing quickly from running. He looked up at the man holding Draco, whose eyes had grown wide. "Will you leave quietly or shall I call some friends of mine?" he asked, voice cool but burning like acid.
The man shook his head, dropping Draco before hurrying out of the alley without even looking back at his friend sprawled on the ground.
Harry watched him go, eyes still narrowed, before he dropped down to Draco, reaching to help him up. "You all right?" he asked.
Draco fell to his knees and spat blood on to the cobblestones, panting as he tried not to vomit.
Harry winced, bringing his hands back to his sides. "What happened?" he asked.
"Nothing unusual," Draco gasped, retrieving his wand and casting a spell to clean himself.
Harry frowned. "That happens to you?" he asked.
"Yeah, apparently there are plenty who think Azkaban wasn't punishment enough for my father," the blond answered, wincing as he moved to stand.
Harry reached to help him again, hands under Draco's arms.
Draco shivered at the contact, part from fear and part from knowledge of who was touching him. He allowed Harry to stand him up and then leaned against the wall. His stomach and ribs hurt. He wondered if something was broken.
Harry took a step back from him. "Well, are you all right? I mean, does it hurt anywhere?" He frowned again. "I could probably heal that one for you." He pointed to Draco's jaw, where a bruise was already forming.
Draco blinked, looking into those bright green eyes. He felt both comforted by the other man's actions and appalled at being seen like this by him. "Yes," he answered softly.
Harry nodded, raising his wand and pressing the tip to Draco's face. He muttered the Healing Charm, watching as the purplish colour of the bruise seemed to be slowly sucked away.
Draco shivered at the other man's magic. He found himself close to and staring into his face. He remembered the moment when he had been asked to identify that face when it had been swollen. He wondered how anyone could ever have mistaken those green eyes for someone else's.
"There," Harry said when it was finished, lowering his wand again. He stood and stared at Draco for a moment. "Um, I'm not sure if you're hurt anywhere else. I'm not really very good at healing anything other than small cuts and bruises."
"I will manage," Draco said, licking his lips nervously. "I appreciate what you did. Few people would have intervened."
"Oh. Well, no problem," Harry answered oddly, stepping away from Draco again. "Pretty cowardly thing to do. It's no better than a Death Eater. Trying to punish someone through their son."
Draco snorted. "Well, that behaviour has never been limited to Death Eaters. You should have seen some of your friends in seventh year." He winced the second he had said it, realising it was probably a mistake to admit that.
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly and he had an urge to retort, to ask Malfoy about all the things he had done throughout the years. "I wasn't there," he said shortly. It was easier that way and meant that he didn't need to get angry with anyone.
"No, you weren't," Draco whispered, looking away when he saw the man's anger. No, he wouldn't want to know what his friends had done to Draco that year.
Harry looked to the ground, tucking his wand away. He didn't like this subject very much. "So, where were you headed?" he asked quietly.
"Apothecary," Draco answered, straightening his robes.
"Mm," Harry said with a nod. "I was going to pick up a birthday present. It's right down the street - where I was going."
Draco nodded. "Sure.”
"Well, er, I guess we're headed in the same direction," Harry said. He shrugged. "Care to come along?"
"Yes," Draco said, gesturing for the other man to lead the way.
Harry nodded, walking back out onto the brighter main street of Diagon Alley, not bothering to set straight the man he had Stunned.
Chapter Title: Without Recourse
Words: 3126 Words
Harry walked through the Ministry with Ron and Hermione, people tipping their hats to them as they went, smiling and giving waves. None of the people knew them. It made Harry almost want to roll his eyes, but he felt guilty for thinking that way.
The three of them had been called as witnesses in Goyle's trial. It had been a couple weeks since Harry had dropped off Malfoy's wand. He hadn't seen the man since. He wondered, in the very back of his mind, how he was doing, but mostly Harry had his hands full. It seemed like there were constant award ceremonies, constant memorial services, and constant funerals. He didn't have room to think of anything except what was in front of him. It all seemed as though it would never end.
They rounded a corner and found the hall where some wizard had told them to sit and wait to be called. There were a few people that Harry didn't know sitting in the hall as well. He took a seat in one of the chairs against the wall. Ron sat on his left and Hermione next to him.
Draco detested going out in public these days, and into the Ministry was far worse than any other place. Most people wouldn't even look at him. He preferred that to the ones who sneered or even, in a few cases, spat on him. It made leaving the Manor an ordeal. He had his wand back but he was on probation, so he didn't even dare threaten them. He made his way to the floor where the trials took place and then nearly stopped and turned around. Potter was there with his friends. He sighed and took a seat as far away from them as possible.
Harry had looked up when Draco entered and watched him sit down. The blond was dressed better and his hair was combed, but it was long and a bit ragged. He still looked impossibly pale and a bit thinner than Harry remembered.
Ron nudged Harry unnecessarily, nodding in Draco's direction. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.
"Bet he'll defend the bastard," Ron muttered.
Harry frowned, glancing at Draco. He didn't know if he would defend Goyle or not.
Draco heard Weasley but ignored him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and staring at his own hands.
Harry shrugged to Ron's comment. "Maybe," he said to shut him up. "Maybe he won't," he added nonchalantly. He didn't know why he was sort of poorly sticking up for Draco Malfoy. He supposed he felt a little sorry for him.
Ron looked doubtful, shaking his head.
Draco glanced at Potter but quickly away again.
"Does it matter?" asked Hermione, glancing at Malfoy as well. Harry recognised it as the tone she used when she too was trying to shut Ron up. Harry had told them both about the time he'd spent at Draco's - well, most of it anyway. He'd left out some things. Hermione had been a bit more sorry than Ron, but neither of them had seen him like Harry had. Hermione looked at him now though, obviously taking in the blond’s appearance.
Draco shifted uncomfortably, sitting back now and closing his eyes. He didn't want to be there. Unfortunately, being a witness against his "former associates" was one of the conditions of his probation. He felt like a traitor to his old friend.
A door off to the side opened then and a woman stepped out, wearing official-looking black robes. "Miss Hermione Granger?" she called, reading from a scroll of parchment.
Hermione stood.
"Come with me," the woman told her, going back through the door from which she had come.
Hermione gave Harry and Ron quick waves before she left, closing the door behind her.
Harry sighed, sinking down in his chair. He'd had to attend plenty of trials in the past weeks. He was sick of them. He glanced at Draco again, eyeing the dark circles set against the very pale skin. Next to him, Ron shifted as well.
"Where's his mummy do you think?" Ron asked in a low voice. "Surprised she's not with him."
Harry sighed very quietly. "I don't know," he said.
Draco frowned, glancing at Ron but then doing his best to control his temper. He just wanted this over with.
Ron met Draco's eyes, raising his brows. Harry remembered that during the last confrontation they'd had, Ron had punched Draco in the face.
"Don't, Ron," he said quietly. "We're in the bloody Ministry."
"I'm not doing anything," Ron said indignantly.
Harry sighed again. "Okay. I'm just saying," he replied.
Draco shook his head and looked away.
Some of the other people were called from the room. Ron, thankfully, didn't try to start anything with Malfoy. He was very touchy these days and got angry easily. Harry thought it might have had to do with Fred. They sat there for what felt like forever, until the door opened again and "Mr Ronald Weasley" was called.
"See you," he said to Harry, leaving like Hermione had.
Draco was surprised to find himself alone in the hall with Potter. He glanced up at him.
Harry looked over at Draco just as Draco looked over at him. He nodded. "Malfoy," he said by way of greeting.
"Potter," Draco acknowledged with a nod.
Harry nodded again, looking away and drumming a random beat with his hands on his knees. "Been all right?" he asked, looking over again.
Draco snorted at that. "Same." Then after a pause, "You?"
"I'm all right," Harry answered. Technically, he'd been all right the last time he'd seen Malfoy, so it wasn't a lie.
Draco nodded. "I've been keeping up with you in the news," he said softly.
Harry arched an eyebrow. That was an odd thing to say. "Oh," he said, shifting a little. "Same old stuff, I guess."
Draco sighed, nervous and unsure of what to do.
They sat in silence for a full minute, but Harry knew that they were going to have quite some time alone together. "How's your mum?" he asked. That was one of the strangest things he could've asked since he didn't even know Draco's mum, but he too was at a loss for words and didn't feel like sitting in awkward silence for God knew how long.
Draco glanced up in surprise. "She is ... doing a bit better," he replied.
Harry nodded. "That's ... good," he said. "I didn't know that ... she wasn't doing okay to begin with." But of course she couldn't be, her husband was in Azkaban. Perhaps she was as bad as Draco was.
"It was a ... difficult year," Draco said softly.
"Yeah, I - yeah," Harry said, and nodded once again for filler. He didn't know what to ask about. Asking Malfoy what he wanted to do with his life would probably upset him. Asking him a lot of things would probably upset him and Harry didn't really want that. The image of Draco and the others that had been at the Manor, screeching in pain and terror, flashed through Harry's mind, seen through Voldemort's eyes. He winced. He could only imagine the kind of year Malfoy had had.
"Where do you live these days?" Draco asked.
"I'm staying over at the Bur - at the Weasleys'," Harry answered. "Don't know how long I'll be there. I've got a place, but ..." He trailed off, shrugging.
"You do?" Draco asked.
"Yeah, it was my godfather's," Harry said. "Kind of a big place for one bloke."
"The Black house?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Harry answered, not surprised that Draco knew. His aunt, after all, had killed Sirius and his mother had sent Kreacher on his mission that had essentially helped to accomplish that. Harry sighed. That all seemed like such a long time ago. Kreacher had fought in the bloody war for fuck's sake.
Just then, the door opened again. The same woman came out but didn't need her list to call, "Mr Draco Malfoy." Harry didn't know if he was imagining it, but her face changed when she said his name, like she'd just been forced to utter the name of something unclean. He frowned slightly.
Draco sighed and got to his feet. He looked at Harry and nodded, before following her into the chamber beyond.
Harry let out a slow breath, staring at the place where Malfoy's rough-looking blond head had disappeared. He did feel sorry for him. He still thought him to be a complete prick - he hadn't forgotten about all of the things he'd done in school, all of the things he'd said to Harry, to Harry's friends. No, he hadn't forgotten those things, but the fact still remained that Draco wouldn't have killed Dumbledore, wouldn't have killed Harry, either. Harry didn't know if it was just because he was unable, too afraid to do it, or if it did involve something else. The former seemed more likely to him, but even so, what did it matter which motive had kept the man from killing? He hadn't killed, which made him different from so many that had. And, as much of a stuck-up arsehole that he was, he didn't deserve what he was going through. Or maybe he did. Harry didn't really know what he thought. All he knew was that Draco had been able to tell exactly what had been going on inside his head. It had been strange, and it intrigued Harry. Draco also hadn't told him to get over it - to just forget the things he felt. Harry had told Draco to do it, but Draco hadn't said that to him. Even Ginny, though she did it in a very loving, thoughtful way, had told Harry to just get over it. Harry let out another long breath.
***
Draco hunched his shoulders. His mother would disapprove of his posture, but he felt nervous outside of the Manor these days. He had even considered wearing a cloak with a hood, but the scorching August heat made the idea impractical and likely to draw as much attention as it would hide him. His potions supplies were very low and his mother was still feeling poorly. So he tapped the bricks with his wand and entered Diagon Alley, making his way toward the Apothecary shop as quickly as he could.
"Ooh, well lookie over there," came a lofty voice from a short distance away. It might not have been directed at Draco, but then, "That's Draco Malfoy, that is, Mitch."
Then a second voice sounded, that of Mitch, the first man's friend. "Ah, yeah, can see the resemblance to good ol' dad. I ever tell you what Lucius Malfoy did to my cousin?" The voice dripped with resentment and barely contained anger.
Draco kept his head down but his hand slipped inside his pocket. At least with his wand back, he now had a chance to defend himself if necessary. Problem was that he had to be careful not to break the restrictions of his probation. He gritted his teeth and continued down the street.
It was no good, the two men followed, moving to walk on each side of him. "What's the hurry, lad?" the first man asked. He was large, with dark hair and eyes.
Mitch didn't speak, but stuck close to Draco on the left. He was a little shorter than Draco was, but he was also quite large. And his hand was in his robe pocket.
"I was cleared of charges; leave me alone," Draco hissed.
They laughed at him. "You little bastard," Mitch said lowly, "because that's what you are now. Your father is going to be locked up for a long time."
"Almost a shame, though," said the first man. "You never got to teach him a lesson."
"Yeah," Mitch agreed. "He put my cousin in St Mungo's, your dad did. How would he feel about his son joining her?"
Draco glanced about, looking for a possible escape route. He was not up for a physical fight with these two, and if he hexed them, there was a high chance of joining his father in Azkaban. He found himself weighing the choice of prison or a beating.
***
Harry strolled along the street, hands in his pockets as he looked inside shop windows. He was searching for a birthday present for Ginny. Her birthday was only a few days away, August 11th, and he had no idea what to get her. Maybe a pair of new earrings or something.
He paused to stare in a window at some robes hanging there. He didn't think she really needed those. He shrugged and continued on his way, shuffling his feet. He turned the corner, where he knew there was a jewellery shop, but then faltered. His eyes were immediately drawn to three figures a bit ahead of him. Two rather hulking men and a tall, overly-thin blond man in the middle. He frowned. Had Malfoy gone and gotten himself two new bodyguards to take Crabbe and Goyle's place? But as he watched, the shorter of the two grasped Draco's shoulder in a tight grip, too tight a grip. Harry narrowed his eyes, his hand automatically closing on his wand handle inside his robe.
***
"Care for a drink, Malfoy?" Mitch asked Draco, hand closing on his shoulder tightly.
"Yeah, it'll be loads of fun," Mitch's friend agreed.
"I don't want trouble. Just leave me alone," Draco answered, trying to dislodge the hand on him.
The two steered Draco onto a narrow side street then, much quicker than it seemed they should've been able to move. The taller man took Draco under the arms with ease, pulling him back into the shadows, while Mitch pulled his wand. "Silencio," he muttered, rendering Draco unable to use his voice. And then he said, "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," as he drew his arm back and punched Draco right in the gut.
Draco had a moment to decide whether or not to fight back. He had been beaten plenty of times in seventh year and knew he would most likely survive. But it would destroy his mother if he was sent to Azkaban. He dropped his hand to his side and closed his eyes as the first blow hit, doubling him over.
There was a fierce gleam in Mitch's eyes as he drew his fist back again, hitting Draco once more in the gut and then landing one on his jaw. But then, quite suddenly, there was a flash of red light and Mitch fell forward.
Harry stood behind him, wand pulled and breathing quickly from running. He looked up at the man holding Draco, whose eyes had grown wide. "Will you leave quietly or shall I call some friends of mine?" he asked, voice cool but burning like acid.
The man shook his head, dropping Draco before hurrying out of the alley without even looking back at his friend sprawled on the ground.
Harry watched him go, eyes still narrowed, before he dropped down to Draco, reaching to help him up. "You all right?" he asked.
Draco fell to his knees and spat blood on to the cobblestones, panting as he tried not to vomit.
Harry winced, bringing his hands back to his sides. "What happened?" he asked.
"Nothing unusual," Draco gasped, retrieving his wand and casting a spell to clean himself.
Harry frowned. "That happens to you?" he asked.
"Yeah, apparently there are plenty who think Azkaban wasn't punishment enough for my father," the blond answered, wincing as he moved to stand.
Harry reached to help him again, hands under Draco's arms.
Draco shivered at the contact, part from fear and part from knowledge of who was touching him. He allowed Harry to stand him up and then leaned against the wall. His stomach and ribs hurt. He wondered if something was broken.
Harry took a step back from him. "Well, are you all right? I mean, does it hurt anywhere?" He frowned again. "I could probably heal that one for you." He pointed to Draco's jaw, where a bruise was already forming.
Draco blinked, looking into those bright green eyes. He felt both comforted by the other man's actions and appalled at being seen like this by him. "Yes," he answered softly.
Harry nodded, raising his wand and pressing the tip to Draco's face. He muttered the Healing Charm, watching as the purplish colour of the bruise seemed to be slowly sucked away.
Draco shivered at the other man's magic. He found himself close to and staring into his face. He remembered the moment when he had been asked to identify that face when it had been swollen. He wondered how anyone could ever have mistaken those green eyes for someone else's.
"There," Harry said when it was finished, lowering his wand again. He stood and stared at Draco for a moment. "Um, I'm not sure if you're hurt anywhere else. I'm not really very good at healing anything other than small cuts and bruises."
"I will manage," Draco said, licking his lips nervously. "I appreciate what you did. Few people would have intervened."
"Oh. Well, no problem," Harry answered oddly, stepping away from Draco again. "Pretty cowardly thing to do. It's no better than a Death Eater. Trying to punish someone through their son."
Draco snorted. "Well, that behaviour has never been limited to Death Eaters. You should have seen some of your friends in seventh year." He winced the second he had said it, realising it was probably a mistake to admit that.
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly and he had an urge to retort, to ask Malfoy about all the things he had done throughout the years. "I wasn't there," he said shortly. It was easier that way and meant that he didn't need to get angry with anyone.
"No, you weren't," Draco whispered, looking away when he saw the man's anger. No, he wouldn't want to know what his friends had done to Draco that year.
Harry looked to the ground, tucking his wand away. He didn't like this subject very much. "So, where were you headed?" he asked quietly.
"Apothecary," Draco answered, straightening his robes.
"Mm," Harry said with a nod. "I was going to pick up a birthday present. It's right down the street - where I was going."
Draco nodded. "Sure.”
"Well, er, I guess we're headed in the same direction," Harry said. He shrugged. "Care to come along?"
"Yes," Draco said, gesturing for the other man to lead the way.
Harry nodded, walking back out onto the brighter main street of Diagon Alley, not bothering to set straight the man he had Stunned.