A Series of Connecting the Dots

Author's Note: Laurel's turn!!!

Chapter 20 Harry – A Visitor

When I woke Hermione was no longer sleeping next to me and I could see from where I lay that she was instead curled up on Ron’s lap. I hadn’t yet been allowed to properly admire my former best friends together as a couple and it was rather bittersweet watching them slumber in a position that was sure to be uncomfortable for them when they woke. I was glad when they had finally gotten together, but I had spent weeks trying to distance myself from them so I had yet to truly enjoy watching their romance. I only allowed myself this pleasure for a moment before my thoughts were all for Draco – or rather the Examination Room door that hid him from me.

I sat up and glared down the door like it was my enemy. It seemed so insignificant really, just a bit of wood, it wasn’t smart or strong, not much of a barrier at all – if I really wanted to I could just open it. But still it stood firmly between me and my lover.

I glanced around the room. Silence. There was no sign of Pomfrey anywhere and I knew if I was ever to get my chance to sneak in with Draco it would be now. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped down on to the floor. I froze. I could hear Ron snoring lightly, but nothing more. Feeling confident, I began to creep towards the door; Pomfrey had super human hearing and the last thing I needed was for her to catch me, but, in a strange way, I also felt like I was sneaking up on the door. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t expecting to be opened and would therefore be unprepared and unlocked; a strange thought to be having, but a much easier one than thinking on what I would find once I was through it. Draco. My Draco looking… pale? Sick? Oh God, dead? I didn’t know what to expect.

I was starting to lose my nerve but I pressed on. I had reached the door and managed to do so without being caught. My hand rested on the door handle. Open it. He’s fine, Pomfrey said so. Open the door.

“Mr. Potter! What are you doing?” I heard the old nurse’s shrill cry across the wing. Damn. I stepped reluctantly away from the door. I could have just walked in, but I had been planning to do it quietly and I doubt I would have managed that with Pomfrey coming up behind me. I did want to see Draco, but I certainly didn’t want to wake him if he needed to rest.

“I just wanted to check on Draco,” I tried to explain.

“Yes, well, I am the medi-witch here,” she scolded me. “I will do the checking. You should be in bed; I’ll be over in a minute to check on your hand.”

“My hand?” I asked, suddenly confused.

“Yes, your right hand, Mr. Potter,” she huffed. “You did quite some damage to it assaulting Mr. Zabini. I repaired your two broken knuckle bones while you were asleep, but I need you to do some hand exercises for me, just to make sure they’re not too stiff and everything is working as it should.” I stared back at her dumbly. I broke my hand? How did I not notice that? I flexed my right hand, opening and closing it a few times; it felt a little stiff. “Bed, Mr. Potter. I will check on Mr. Malfoy.”

I nodded reluctantly and watched with jealousy as she slipped inside the quiet room. Madam Pomfrey was short but quick and my attempts to catch a glimpse of Draco over her shoulder were unsuccessful. I turned and stalked back to the bed where Hermione and Ron, now awake from Pomfrey’s screeching, stared back at me from their armchair. It was strange to have them here with me and I felt suddenly self-conscious.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked softly.

“I dunno, a bit numb actually,” I replied honestly and Hermione nodded, obviously unsure about what to say next.

“Do you want some water?” she asked eventually.

“Yes please, that’d be great.” I suddenly felt parched and water sounded wonderfully refreshing. Hermione climbed off Ron’s lap and took several steps forward before halting in the middle of the room.

“Oh,” she sighed, sounding disappointed. “I’m not sure where to get it from, but there must be some here, Madam Pomfrey always has water for you.”

“That’s okay, I don’t really need-”

“No. No, I’ll find you some!” she insisted. “Just – just stay there.” She rushed out of the Hospital Wing and off to God knows where to find me some water. It was kind of sweet, but it also made me a little uncomfortable because I wasn’t really sure of her motivations. Hermione had always fussed over me, but I did wonder if this attention had sprung from guilt at our separation, sympathy over Draco, or the love she had always had for me. Maybe it was a little bit of everything….

“Where do you reckon she’s gone?” I asked Ron when the silence and his staring finally got too much for me to bear.

He shrugged and said with a smirk. “To find you some water?”

“Why didn’t she just conjure some?” I asked quietly, smiling back at my old friend.

He laughed. “Dunno,” he shrugged. “Maybe she’s so flustered she forgot she’s a witch.”

I laughed despite myself and climbed back up on to the bed. We were silent again for a long while and I stared up at the dirty white ceiling willing the minutes and seconds away just waiting for Pomfrey to emerge and tell me I could see Draco. When I heard the Exam Room door click open I jumped off the bed and rushed over to her.

“He’s sound asleep,” she informed me, although there was a gentle smile on her lips. “He’s doing very well though considering the state he arrived in.” I tried not to look too disappointed that I couldn’t see him and instead focus on the news that he was alright; he so easily could have gone the other way. “Come on, I need to look at that hand.”

My shoulders slumped and I let her lead me back to the bed I had been occupying. I was starting to hate that bed; I felt like it was as much of a perpetrator as the door in keeping me away from Draco.

--

Hermione had returned with an entire jug full of water, I had no idea where she’d gotten it and didn’t really care to ask. I was grateful she had though. I’d taken a long drink and then settled back down on to my hated bed, tapping the tips of my fingers together repeatedly while I listened to Ron give me a run down on the state of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Basically, the team was sinking. We were up shit creek and it sounded like they’d thrown away both their oars when they’d let me go and had been furiously paddling with their hands ever since. Ginny had some skill and had managed to keep them afloat, but without her, if I had not agreed to come back, they would have been screwed. I had agreed to play, but I wondered now if I would go through with it – I supposed it depended on Draco and his recovery. If he needed me, I couldn’t be anywhere else but by his side.

Pomfrey appeared again, making her way towards Draco’s room – it had been at least an hour since she’d checked on him and at least ten minutes since I’d last asked her when she thought he would be awake for me to see him. I jumped off the bed and rushed over.

“Yes, Mr. Potter, I’ll check to see if he’s awake yet,” she assured me. I could tell she was trying to be patient with me, but I was surely testing the length of her tolerance. She slipped into the room and my breath quickened when I heard her speak from behind the closed door; Draco was awake. “Oh. Mr. Malfoy, you look a good deal better this morning,” she said.

Draco’s response was muffled and I frowned. I didn’t like that I couldn’t hear him, I wanted to hear his voice, dispel the horrible thoughts from my mind. Madam Pomfrey had moved away from the door too, and now I couldn’t hear either of them. I was tempted to press my ear up against the wood like a child listening for sounds of Santa on Christmas Eve, but instead I just stood there twitching in my impatience.

Thankfully I didn’t have to wait very long before the door was opened to me and I was allowed inside. I barely noticed Pomfrey step outside, leaving the door open so we were at least partially supervised, I was too busy trying to manage the rush of emotions I felt at seeing Draco looking like Draco. He was sitting up and his face was full of colour and life.

“Oh, Draco, thank the gods you’re alright,” I gasped, grabbing his hand in mine just to feel his warm skin.

His cloudy grey eyes stared up at me, looking for something as he had done the first time we kissed. There was something worrying in the way he looked at me; I thought for a moment he looked uncertain about something – about me, maybe? But I could see that none of the emotion was missing from his gaze. He had missed me just as much as I had missed him, and he erased all my worries in one hungry movement as he forcefully pulled my mouth to his.

My urges took over and, selfishly, without concern for his injuries, I crawled up to him to feed my own needs with Draco’s touch, his taste, his scent. I pressed myself into him and kissed him ardently, growling pleasurably at the small noises he made. I wondered if I was feeding his needs as he was feeding mine, that he was hungry for me as I hungered for him.

Eventually I pulled away from him so I would be able to see him properly. He was more beautiful than I remembered. I couldn’t believe how close I’d come to facing the rest of my life without him. Stupid Slytherin. I smacked him lightly on his arm.

“Ow,” he complained, pouting cutely. “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,” I frowned, trying to match his childish pout and failing spectacularly – that boy had the most kissable mouth I’d ever seen.

“Clearly I was mistaken,” he replied. His tone was a pathetic attempt at being casual and I wanted to tell him that when it came to matters like this there was no room for mistakes! But I couldn’t. I took in the intensity of his eyes, the perfect angle of his nose, and the way his mouth was slightly parted making me want to kiss him over and over again. I was just so grateful to have him here with me. I reasoned to myself that he’d gone through enough anyway, who was I to punish him any more than he had been already.

I relaxed into his embrace and sighed into his hospital gown. “I wanted to come in sooner, but your father told Pomfrey that I wasn’t allowed.” Draco paused, and I enjoyed the rise and fall of his chest under me.

“He told me to break up with you,” he said softly, and my breath caught. I wondered why he would tell me that. It wasn’t like I had expected Lucius Malfoy to be happy about our relationship, but he was so separate from Hogwarts I hadn’t expected Draco’s family to become a problem for us quite so soon. He hadn’t spoken about his family much, but the little he’d said gave me a strong impression that Lucius often pulled on Draco’s puppet strings and if Lord Malfoy was determined to see us separate then … I couldn’t bear to think about it.

“And you told him no, didn’t you?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“That would have been highly unwise,” he told me sadly. His choice of words didn’t reflect the carefree lover I’d known these past few days, but rather the well bred, pureblood, high society heir to the Malfoy fortune. “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.”

I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. Did he even know what he was saying to me? Did he know what this would mean? We would be apart; we couldn’t talk to each other, or touch. Surely, he hadn’t really considered it.

“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,” he said, and it hurt so much to hear. I never, ever wanted to think of him as my enemy again. We were lovers and companions; he was my soul mate – at least that’s how it felt. There was so much between us, but it was sounding like he’d already given up. “We have different views, different morals, different everything,” he continued. “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?” I snapped. I wanted to tell him that we were to each other what we wanted to be and we would always be enemies as long as that was how he thought of me, but it wasn’t how I thought of him. I wanted to tell him that, but he wouldn’t let me.

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

Fight him!? What did he mean by that!? I knew he was talking about the war, but I guess I thought I would be more likely to cross wands with his father rather than him. “Could you?!” I asked incredulously. I couldn’t believe the conversation we were having. Of all the things I wanted to say to him and wanted to hear from him after I came so close to losing him forever, it certainly wasn’t anything like this conversation.

“No,” he sighed tiredly. “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,” I accused, feeling deeply hurt by his suggestion. “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?” he challenged me and I was shocked to the core. At this point I wasn’t sure of anything; I couldn’t even think beyond my disbelief at what I was hearing to properly recall what I’d thought would happen now that we were together. I supposed, in a way, I had expected him to change – to be on my side during the war at the very least – but, from what he was saying, apparently I was the only one thinking it. “I love you, Harry,” he continued. “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.”

As he spoke, his words afforded me some clarity, but it was a painful clarity I found difficult to reason out in my mind. I loved him more than life and I couldn’t see that changing at any point, and while I can understand that couples are still individual people with individual beliefs and values, it makes sense that their values aren’t drastically different – or in mine and Draco’s case, completely opposite. I wondered whether he was talking simply of his beliefs, or if he was explaining why he would still fight with Voldemort even though he loved me.

“Enough,” I sighed. I couldn’t hear him go on about it; I understood what he meant and to hear him reiterate it would only hurt me further. “I hear what you’re saying, I just need a minute to think.”

I hoped that I might have time to convince him that Voldemort’s devastating campaign was about so much more than Muggles and Muggleborns verses Purebloods. Not too far beneath the pathetic front Voldemort had used to justify – if that was even possible – his actions was his true motivation; his unquenchable desire to be number one, to be on top at any cost. I knew though, that even if he did manage to conquer Wizarding Britain and sit himself into the Minister’s chair, he would still want more. His eyes would stray to France and he would begin to think himself able to rule both countries, and then another, and another.

I didn’t want to change Draco or his values or opinions, but he needed to know what Voldemort was really fighting for. It was a thin line I walked between loving him as he was and wanting him to change some of his ways.

I certainly had a lot of thinking to do.

In the face of all this uncertainty my affection for him was still paramount in my mind. I caressed his face and held it in my hands, sighing and relaxing into him, I closed my eyes; I needed space to think and I would surely have it later, for now I just needed to be with him. I took a deep breath, concentrating on how Draco felt against me and the rise and fall of my chest against his.

It tickled my fingertips and at first I ignored it – Draco was more important – but when the feeling persisted and I realized my fingers were damp, I had to pay attention. I was confused; if it had been anyone else I would have thought they were crying, but Draco? It didn’t seem likely.

Then he made this noise – barely a noise at all, but I heard it – a cracked mixture of a sniffle and a sigh, and I knew. I jumped back from him, at first concerned I’d been hurting him, but as I took in the unbelievable sight of Draco Malfoy in tears I saw that all his pain was held in his eyes. In an instant his hurt became mine, his fear was mine, and I felt it all build up in me. It was all I could do not to cry with him simply because he was.

I kissed him gently over and over, across his wet cheeks, down his jaw and finally to his lips. “Shhh,” I soothed him. “We can get through anything if we’re together.”

My words seemed to affect him greatly as he released a choked cry from deep within his chest. He wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me to him, letting his hands creep underneath my jumper to explore my bare back. His touch sent a thrill through my body and I ached for more, my hormones took over my common sense as I began to kiss him, encouraging him to touch me as he liked.

When my erection pressed desperately into his, I forgot all about his injuries and he arched up into me, seeking the contact as much as I was. I felt his fingernails digging into my flesh as he tried to pull me closer still. Panting as I thrust into him, I got a glimpse of his face and it was heavenly, he’d completely let go of all his careful controls, and had given himself to me totally. I felt the pressure build up inside of me, heightened by the depth of emotion I felt for him, especially now that I had him in my arms after coming so close to the possibility of never feeling him near me again. His hands clenched on my back and his nails dragged along my skin as he came, he bit down into my shoulder so he wouldn’t cry out, but I heard his moan reverberate from his throat anyway and it pushed me over the edge. Draco caught my own groans of pleasure in his mouth as I kissed him and within seconds I was slack with exhaustion and satisfaction; I wanted to fall asleep with him here, but I knew I couldn’t.

“I think Ron and Hermione are still outside,” I whispered, suddenly acutely aware of what we’d just done. I looked to the door and when I saw it open, inviting anyone outside to come in and see us dry humping each other my face heated up immediately. “I really hope they didn’t hear any of that.”

He grinned at me cheekily. “I hope Weasley heard every moan,” he teased, and I smacked him lightly on the arm in reprimand. His expression tightened with pain and it cut through my heart.

“Oh, Draco,” I exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.” I wanted to take all his pain away from him and wear it myself if I had to. I wanted his pain to be my burden not his; it should have been me who was tortured, me who nearly lost his life, not Draco. This was all my fault.

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

It didn’t work. I buried myself into him and sighed. “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,” he said, looking at me like I should feel better for knowing that. I just felt sick. “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?” I asked. “You said you were being careful.”

“I was distracted,” he replied, and I had to bite my tongue to not tell him off for being so careless. “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?” I said, accusing Snape with my tone. I could understand Draco’s distraction if Snape was meddling in our relationship; the man had made it abundantly clear yesterday that he thought I had no business being with his godson.

“No,” he said quickly, sounding mildly offended that I’d even mentioned it. “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.”

“Did he?” I asked, surprised by the idea, but at the same time not surprised at all. It all fit really; Malfoy’s sudden interest in me, his almost instantaneous switch between hating me and trying to seduce me, and his persistence. What if Voldemort was behind all of this? It would be perfect really. I love Draco more than life, I would follow him into the depths of Hell, which is what Voldemort would want. Draco could lead me right into Voldemort’s lair and I would go with him.

“Call me names?” he scoffed. “Does that really seem all that farfetched?”

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

“Is everything alright in here?” I would have thought Ron had poked his head in to see what we were doing except that he was adamantly not looking at us. “It’s been rather quiet. I wanted to make sure you haven’t strangled one another.”

“Everything’s fine,” I told him.

“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-” I began to protest, but he stopped me with a kiss, threading his fingers through my hair as he pulled me in.

“I insist. I’ll be rotten company for the next couple of hours anyhow,” he whispered against my lips. “If she lets me out of here before you get a chance to come back, I’ll track you down. Deal?”

I nodded slowly, still not completely happy with the idea. I wanted to stay with him, but I knew Pomfrey wouldn’t let me even if Draco would; besides, I was a little hungry….

I climbed regretfully off his bed, this time careful not to cause him further injury, and made my way to the door. I couldn’t help but look back at him, pleading to him with my eyes to let me stay. I would forgo food for the rest of my life just to stay with him; it didn’t seem as necessary as it once had to sustain me, Draco seemed to be the only thing I needed now.

--

Breakfast was an awkward affair. It was the first time I had eaten with Hermione and Ron for months, although it felt like years. As I covertly stole glances of the two across the table, I felt a mix of emotions. I was still bitter that we’d even reached this point in our friendship – we never should have parted in the first place. I was worried we wouldn’t ever be close friends again because there was too much between us now, the trust was gone and I didn’t know if I would be able to keep them in my heart as I once had in case they hurt me again. But most of all, I was just glad to be here with them now. They had really pulled through for me and Draco last night, if it wasn’t for them … well, I didn’t want to think about it. Draco was alive and healthy and that’s what I would have to focus on, rather than letting myself get upset about what might have happened.

“I might go back up and see Draco,” I announced. I’d been sitting there fidgeting under the gaze of the rest of the school as they observed our reunion and all I could think about was Draco up there alone in the infirmary.

“I’m sure Draco is fine, Harry,” Hermione sighed as though I were some kind of lost cause. “Besides, you have class in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m just going to check on him quickly,” I said as I stood from my seat. I’d eaten what I could stomach – half a bowl of porridge – and it would do me no good to force myself to eat any more. “I won’t be long.”

I could see Ron biting his tongue and squeezing Hermione’s hand in warning, and then he nodded at me. I didn’t like this stage of our reconciliation; they were letting me do as I pleased and, as convenient as that was for me, I didn’t like that they didn’t feel like they could disagree with me. I wasn’t about to argue with them now though; my feet were itching to sprint up to the Hospital Wing, just to be with Draco that much sooner.

I headed out of the Great Hall where the rest of the school were chatting and fighting over the last piece of bacon, and into the Entrance Hall where I immediately froze almost mid-step. I shouldn’t have been surprised really, he had nearly died, but standing in the Hall looking very proper was Lady Narcissa Malfoy. She had robes of a deep maroon and blood red lipstick with a navy blue scarf wrapped over her hair and around her neck. I could see blonde wisps of hair that had escaped her scarf and even though I’d only seen her once in my life, I knew exactly who she was; Draco’s mother.

She seemed to have spotted me too and, surprisingly, she made her way over to where I stood staring at her. “Mr. Potter,” she greeted me evenly. “I’m here to see my son and I’m under the assumption you will know where he is?”

“Oh, um, yes, Ma’am,” I stammered. “He’s in the Hospital Wing, I was just on my way up to see him actually.”

“Then you can escort me,” she said simply, as though it was a normal request and not something I should feel the least bit awkward about. She held out her elbow for me take so I could lead her properly up the stairs to the infirmary and after an unsure moment, I took it. “How long have you been dating my son?” she asked as we walked and my heart quickened immediately. I was beginning to desperately wish that I’d stayed with Hermione and Ron.

“Um, not long,” I replied, my voice shaking with nerves. This was Draco’s mother after all and despite everything I wanted her to like me. “A little over a week now.”

“Only a week?” she said, sounding surprised. “From what I’ve heard it sounded like you’d been together much longer than that.”

“We’ve been friends for a few months now, and we studied together most days,” I explained, thinking she must have heard reports of how much time we spent together – although reports from whom I didn’t know.

“I was referring to my son’s affection for you, Mr. Potter,” she replied. “I have heard he is quite taken with you, I assumed you would have been together much longer for him to be so infatuated. Although, you are both very young I suppose, everything is love when you’re sixteen.”

“Young or not, Lady Malfoy, what Draco and I feel for each other is real,” I retorted. I was feeling rather defensive of our youth, I knew how I felt and I knew I would feel the same about him if I were sixteen or sixty.

“Yes, I do not doubt that,” she assured me, although I couldn’t help but feel a little patronized by her tone. “But you are taking great risks by acting on your feelings this way, and not just with your own lives. I hope you realize that this union could determine all our fates, what I cannot yet determine is which way it will go.”

“It will go my way, Lady Malfoy,” I spoke so determinedly I almost hissed at her. “You can be sure of that.”

I needed Draco’s mother to have the confidence in me that I often lacked in myself. I needed to defeat Voldemort, I knew I would simply because there was no other option, but I did wonder about my fate and Draco’s. Not everyone would survive this war and I worried every day who the casualties were going to be.

I was grateful when we reached the infirmary entrance because these questions were making me nervous. I didn’t know much about Draco’s family; he hadn’t really talked about them. I knew they were involved with Voldemort, but I didn’t know how much, or what Draco’s relationship was like with his parents. I didn’t want to say too much in case I accidentally told her something Draco didn’t want her to know. “He’s just through here,” I muttered as we entered and I made my way to the room Draco had been occupying.

I pushed open the door and almost reached for my wand when I saw Pansy Parkinson standing next to Draco’s bed; they had obviously been talking and by the look on both their faces, it hadn’t been a friendly conversation. After last night, I didn’t imagine it would have been, and Draco’s next words confirmed it.

“Harry,” he said lightly, almost smiling at me. “Parkinson here thinks she can walk about making threats on my life. What do you think about that, Love?”

My throat closed up as I was acutely aware of Narcissa Malfoy standing behind me. I wasn’t sure what he wanted her to know; Parkinson was a family friend of his after all. “I, um-” I stammered. I didn’t know what to say. “Draco, your-”

“Draco, darling,” Lady Malfoy interrupted me greeting her son and rushing up to his bedside as though Draco hadn’t just announced he’d been delivered a death threat by his ex girlfriend. “How are you feeling, Sweetheart? I was absolutely beside myself when Severus called, and when your father told me he would be attending to you alone and I wasn’t to come, well, I didn’t know what to think.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Draco replied, almost whining at her; it was so cute. “Really, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Harry was coming up to see you and was kind enough to escort me here,” she added, glancing over to me. I looked over to Pansy who looked like a frightened rabbit, her eyes flitted around the room looking for an exit, but there was none for her, unless she was to push aggressively past me to get to the door.

“I was just coming to keep you company, but I’ll come back later,” I said, giving Draco a meaningful look that I hoped conveyed my many thoughts and concerns. I wanted to know that he was happy to be left alone with his mother, even though it killed me to leave him, especially after what Parkinson had obviously said to him.

“After class, okay?” he suggested, giving me a small smile, and I nodded.

“Lovely to see you again, Harry,” Narcissa said with haughty indifference, but as she leaned in to place a brief kiss on my cheek, her expression changed. “Make her pay,” she whispered to me, and her words shivered all the way through me. “Perhaps you should escort Pansy back to the Great Hall,” she suggested for us all to hear and Parkinson glared at me warily.

“That’s quite alright, Mrs. Malfoy,” Parkinson replied with an icy politeness.

“Nonsense, I insist,” Draco’s mother pressed. “There are obviously uncontrolled sociopaths in this school and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

I smirked at Parkinson as my respect for Draco’s mother grew exponentially. I held my elbow out to the snooty Slytherin girl and, after a wary glance at Lady Malfoy, she sneered at me and accepted my arm. I glanced back at Draco one last time before leaving him with his mother and he looked shocked to say the least at watching his boyfriend stroll out of his room arm in arm with his ex-girlfriend.

As soon as we were out of sight, Parkinson tried to pull herself free of my grasp. “Uh uh uh,” I tutted sarcastically. “I promised I’d look after you until we got to the Great Hall. After all, there are dangerous people about.”

“Not dangerous for me, Potter,” she hissed, obviously trying to threaten or intimidate me; it didn’t work. “Can’t say the same for you or your faggot boyfriend!” Now that pissed me off.

Lady Malfoy had asked me to ‘make her pay’ and my mind was whirring with possibilities – Pansy Parkinson looking more like a troll than a human; Pansy Parkinson mysteriously disappears from Hogwarts grounds, never to be seen again; Pansy Parkinson a bloody mess the way Zabini was by the time I finished with him. The trouble was, I was a Gryffindor, and deep down I knew I could never hurt someone on purpose – in the heat of the moment was one thing, but to maliciously and intentionally injure another person was something I was surely incapable of. Still, I was determined to make her pay somehow, even if it would simply scare her into backing off from Draco.

“Threats, Pansy?” I said sweetly, tutting at her again. “That’s not very lady-like.”

“Fuck you, Potter!” she spat and I could have laughed at how pathetic she sounded.

“Your friend Blaise isn’t back from St. Mungo’s, is he?” I asked her casually; as I continued to grip her arm so tightly I was sure she would bruise. Parkinson paled at my question and struggled against me again. “I’m afraid I got a little carried away with him, but I was just so angry. The thought of someone hurting Draco just makes me crazy and I lose control.” I paused waiting for her to react, but she didn’t. She looked terrified walking so close to me, but she didn’t try to escape again and she didn’t try to respond. “I know you were involved, Parkinson,” I hissed at her and I could see her tremble. “I will make you pay for what you did, you won’t know when or how, but I can promise you that you will regret it.”

She turned to look at me with wide, frightened eyes and they gave her away, even though her mouth was pursed into an angry line. “Pretty words for a Gryffindor,” she retorted shakily. “What are you going to do, kill me right under the nose of your precious Headmaster?” She was trying to come across as nonchalant, but her tone made me feel like she was as much asking genuinely as she was trying to let me know she didn’t believe me capable of hurting her as I said I would.

By this time we were almost at the Great Hall and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold her for much longer without having to answer to her idiot Slytherin friends. “Of course not, Pansy,” I replied was sarcastic innocence. “But if anyone in this school could get away with it, who do you think that would be?”

She threw me one last horrified look, like I was mentally deranged, before I released her arm and she took off down the corridor like she had a Horntail chasing after her.

I had set her up nicely, she’d be frightened of me for a while until she convinced herself I wouldn’t follow through on my threats, but I knew even now that I wouldn’t be satisfied with that alone. Revenge wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, I was a Gryffindor after all, not a Slytherin, but for Draco and the silent promise I’d made to his mother, I wanted to do something.

I wasn’t given much time to think about it before Hermione and Ron found me pondering in the hallway and shanghaied me to Transfiguration.

--

We were having chicken and vegetable pie for lunch, normally one of my favourite dishes, but today it didn’t taste like anything. I didn’t enjoy it at all, which only added to my misery since I knew under different circumstances I would have enjoyed it immensely.

“Harry, you’ll see him first thing after class today,” Hermione reminded me gently, and despite our getting on so well today, still a little nervously. “You can’t help it if he was asleep, and neither can he.”

I shrugged and sighed woefully; she was right of course, if Draco was sleeping I wouldn’t have wanted to wake him, but it would have been nice to see him all the same – he is beautiful when he sleeps. Surprisingly, the next bite of pie tasted much better and I looked over at Hermione gratefully; apparently she’d cheered me up somewhat.

“Betts is probably our weakest player at the moment,” Ron started to say to me and I could see it in Hermione’s face that she’d already switched off. She’d never warmed to Quidditch and I’d imagine Ron would have bored her with talk of it many times over the last few months. Ever since I’d agreed to play for him he’d been talking about it to me constantly, not that I minded, I just wasn’t sure how I would explain it to him if I decided to pull out of the team – it all depended on Draco really, if he needed me… “but if we make sure Dean stays close to him to support him I think we should be alright,” I heard Ron say. I’d heard it before and I was starting to switch off myself, Ron had been appointed Captain in my place once I’d left but it was obvious he didn’t really know what he was doing; he was double checking every decision with me.

For one reason or another, my eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table and I spied Pansy Parkinson sitting almost completely surrounded by a bunch of idiot Slytherin thugs as if they would protect her. She was obviously still nervous about what I would do to her, and so she should be! Not that I knew what I was going to do yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be anything less than what the bitch would deserve.

“… Tabbart isn’t bad though, I saw him practicing on a school broom over the weekend, but he might be a bit young yet for the team,” Ron continued to babble as I continued to stare at that ugly pug Parkinson. “Don’t you think, Harry?”

“Sorry?” I asked, my attention roughly snapped back to Ron.

“Obviously Harry has a lot to worry about right now, Ron,” Hermione interrupted Ron’s response. “You shouldn’t bother him with trivial matters.”

“Trivial matters!?” Ron gasped looking scandalized.

“Yes, Harry has enough to think about with Draco, not to mention that Transfiguration test we have next week and the History of Magic essay due the day after that. Do I need to remind you Professor Binns wants three lengths of parchment!”

“Oh fuck,” I swore quietly, but my two friends heard me easily. “That much?”

“I don’t make these things up for fun you know,” she huffed and I saw Ron balk and mutter something most likely not very nice under his breath. “What was that, Ronald?” she asked, her eyes flashing angrily at him.

“Nothing,” he replied, patting her affectionately on her knee, then he looked over at me. “Harry, you’re staring at the Slytherin table again, you know Malfoy’s still in the infirmary, don’t you?” he said in a teasing tone; as if I could forget Draco was being maliciously kept from my side.

“Yeah, I know,” I answered, trying to brush it off. “It was just….”

“Is it Pansy Parkinson?” Hermione questioned. “You still think she had something to do with what happened to Draco?”

I glared at her again from the other side of the room and, whether she knew I was staring at her or not, she was determinedly not looking at me. “I know she did, I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Yes, and we need to do something about it,” Hermione added. “Clearly, if she’s still threatening Draco’s life, she isn’t giving up on hurting him, or killing him as she says. We can’t have her hanging around Hogwarts, she’s too much of a loose cannon.”

I’d told them both what had happened that morning with Narcissa Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, and Hermione found Mrs. Malfoy’s behaviour both unexpected and encouraging; she was certain there was more to her motives than she was letting on. “Yeah,” I agreed, “but how? What should we do, kill her ourselves before she kills Draco?” I made it plain with my tone of voice that I was exaggerating, but I don’t think either of them underestimated the fact that if it came down to killing Parkinson or losing Draco that ‘Avada Kedavra’ would pass my lips without a second’s thought.

“No, of course not,” Hermione said, dismissing my suggestion. “Just leave it with me.”

“What?” I asked incredulously. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she reassured me. “I’ll take care of it, just focus on getting Draco better.”

I frowned at her, not sure if I liked it much that she was taking on my desire for revenge; although I’m sure she saw attacking Parkinson as more preventative than revengeful. Still, Hermione was the smartest person I knew and she would do a better job at it than I would, and she’d probably get away with it too.

--

I hadn’t been able to concentrate all day. With the Parkinson problem off my mind, I had only Draco to worry about and my chief concern was my relationship with him and whether or not being with me was going to get him killed. There were so many risks and most of them I knew about before I gave in to his sad puppy eyes and persistent affections; I never should have caved, it was stupid of me. But now I was so deeply in love with him I couldn’t see a way out. What I really wanted to do was send him away, out of the country, I could deal with Voldemort and when it was all over he could come back to a much safer wizarding England. I knew he’d never agree to that though.

I sighed. It was so close to the end of the day and I would be able to go and see him. After hours of thought and pretending to be listening in Defense, I knew there was no way I could make any of these decisions on my own. There were too many unknowns, too many things Draco and I had avoided talking about, too many things I could tell he was keeping from me, and while I was happy to allow some secrets, I wouldn’t allow any that would get him killed. He was going to have to confess about his family, the extent of his involvement with Voldemort, and then we were going to have to come up with a plan to keep him safe.

I was determined to get the answers I needed and I wasn’t going to let him distract me with his lips and his nimble fingers as he so loved to do.

“Okay, that’s it for today,” Professor Hobble announced, and I jumped out of my seat. “Don’t forget to read pages two hundred and thirty five to two hund…”

I was out the door.

I’d been anxious to see Draco all day, but I didn’t want to arrive breathless as though I’d run all the way there, so apart from a few eager hops, I walked quickly down corridors and staircases on my way to the Hospital Wing. I was still distracted by the many thoughts running through my brain and I wasn’t completely aware of what was going on around me, which was stupid in hindsight as it led to me connecting directly with another student, knocking their books all over the ground.

As I bent to help them pick their belongings up, apologizing profusely for my ineptitude, I realized this wasn’t just any other student. His blue eyes were still filled with the same hurt and anger I seen in them the last time he’d let me look at him. “Mike,” I said, choking on his name. I hadn’t thought about him in a while and I felt guilty for it.

“Fuckin Hell, Harry,” he barked at me. “Watch where you’re going!”

“I’m sorry about that,” I replied meekly. “I haven’t seen you around lately.”

“That’s because I’ve been avoiding you,” he retorted as though it were a well-known fact.

“Oh, right.” I supposed it was fair enough really, I wouldn’t want to see me either, but it worried me that I hadn’t seen him at meals and I wondered where he was eating.

“Can I have my book back?” he demanded, and I realized I was gripping one of his books rather tightly in my hands.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” I told him softly. He was right in front of me and he’d never felt so far away. I knew he was hurting and I wanted to make it stop, but I knew I couldn’t; I’d only make things worse for him. He was right to avoid me, it was the best way.

“Fine,” he huffed. “You know what, just keep it.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk away.

“No!” I called out to him. “Wait! I’m sorry, here, take it!” I jogged after him, thrusting the book out in front of me. He snatched it from my hands and, without a word, he stormed off down the corridor.

My heart sank as I watched him leave and I could feel deep within me that it was my fault he was in so much pain. If I’d stayed with him and made love to him like he’d wanted me to, he wouldn’t be hurting like this and Draco would never have ended up in hospital fighting for his life.

I felt horrible, but I was more determined than ever to protect Draco. I couldn’t do anything about Mike’s pain, but I could still make sure Draco survived this war.

My determination grew with each step I took and when I arrived at the infirmary I was sure not even Madam Pomfrey could have kept me from Draco.

“We need to talk about everything,” I announced as soon as I entered his room. I wasn’t going to let him stop me or put it off any longer.

“Oh, hello, Baby,” he teased me. “I missed you too. Yes, my day was just fine, how was yours?”

“I mean it, we can’t avoid this any longer,” I insisted as I sat on the edge of his bed. “We have to make a plan to keep you safe. I won’t allow you to get hurt because I was too stupid to stay away from you.”

Draco took my hand and squeezed it. “Don’t get all worked up, Harry,” he told me. “We’ll sort everything out. First though, I need to tell you what my mother came to talk to me about.”

His smile fell from his face and he frowned at me seriously. I was suddenly extremely curious about what Lady Malfoy had to say.

Author's Note: Well, I must say, these upcoming chapters are some of the best, and filled with terrible cliffhangers. That's how much we both love you all.