How to Save a Life

Harry woke with a groan on Sunday morning. A quick look at his watch showed it was just past 8 o’ clock, which meant he had had little more than 4 hours sleep. His night had been plagued with dreams of Draco. Some of them had involved the two of them fighting like the old days, and others were far more erotic in content. But all of them had ended with Harry waking up in a cold sweat after dream Draco had turned his wand on Harry, screaming ‘crucio’.

Harry desperately wanted to curl up and sleep some more but both his imagination and his roommates seemed to have conspired to prevent this. Seamus and Dean were having a loud battle over who got use of the bathroom next and Neville was busy banging around in the wardrobe, flinging items of clothing out onto his bed.

Even without this distraction Harry was to be denied the peace of sleep. Every time he tried, he was taunted with images of hate filled grey eyes. With a deep sigh, he threw back the covers and dragged his exhausted body out of bed.

After a quick check showed that Seamus and Dean were still firmly occupied with their heated debate, Harry grabbed his clothes and slipped, unseen, into the bathroom. Locking it firmly against the protests of his outraged roommates.

As the hot water eased his tired muscles, Harry found his eyes drawn to his arm where a fresh new cut flared red against his skin. He traced it with a fingertip, feeling, not without satisfaction, the way that the water stung the angry wound.

This one had been added in the early hours of that morning. Harry had woken from a nightmare, overwhelmed by guilt at, what he felt was his betrayal of Draco. He liked Draco, the blonde had been nothing but nice to him since the start of term and Harry’s subconscious had repaid that with suspicion and accusations.

As he had watched the blood seep out of his own torn flesh, Harry had felt that he could now look the Slytherin boy in the eye.

He left the bathroom, cast a sheepish grin at the two indignant boys waiting outside, and headed down into the common room. He was greeted by a babble of excitement as he entered the room. Looking for its source, Harry spotted a group of 3rd year Gryffindor’s huddled round the notice bard. After further investigation revealed several sulking 1st and 2nd years, Harry surmised that there had been a Hogsmeade weekend announced.

That set Harry’s mind working. Ever since Pansy had played dress up with him before the Slytherin party, Harry had become acutely aware of his own wardrobes shortcomings. And now that he and Draco were...well, whatever the hell they were...Harry found himself wanting to look his best for the other boy. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it!

Harry made a mental note to consult with Pansy about his plan. He may have the money to buy new clothes, but Harry knew, that after years of wearing Dudley’s outsized cast off’s, he hadn’t the first clue about what he should be buying.

Lost in thought, he turned away from the notice board and headed in the direction of the portrait hole. His line of sight was suddenly interrupted by a pair of apprehensive brown eyes.

‘Great’, Harry thought, ‘just what I need before breakfast, a row with Hermione’. His eyes travelled over her face and as he took in the determined set of her jaw, he knew there was no getting away from this conversation.

“Harry,” she started, uncertainly. “Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you.”

Harry ran a hand through his damp hair, causing it to spike up in every direction.

“What is it, Hermione?” he sighed. “I’m really too tired to argue right now.”

“I don’t want to argue, Harry,” she responded in an injured tone. “I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t like the way things were left between you and Ron yesterday. You know he doesn’t really mean to be like that.”

“So why does he do it?” Harry queried, trying hard not to let his frustration show. “No one makes him act that way, or say the things he does.”

“Harry, you know how Ron feels about Malfoy, especially after what happened to Bill. You can’t expect him to forgive and forget, just like that.”

“I don’t, Hermione. I’m not asking Ron to become friends with Draco, he can hate him as much as he wants, that’s his right. I just hoped that my best friend would respect my right to make my own decisions.”

“I think he would, Harry, if it were anyone but Malfoy.”

Harry let out a deep sigh and rubbed at his eyes. “But it is Malfoy, Hermione. I like him, he’s funny and smart, and when he lets that mask drop, he’s actually a decent person.”

“He’s hardly a saint, Harry.”

“I know that, Hermione, I just don’t think he’s the devil incarnate either. We’re none of us perfect; we’ve all got our demons. He’s not the person you think he is. I don’t know if he’s always been like this deep down or if it was the war that changed him – but he’s different.”

Harry slumped down into a nearby chair and looked up at the frizzy haired girl. “I love you and Ron; you’re like family to me. The last thing I want is to lose your friendship, but I will not be dictated to, not by either of you. And I will not be forced into choosing between you and Draco.”

“But you are choosing, Harry, don’t you see.”

Harry shook his head stubbornly, “No, I don’t see. As far as I’m concerned there is no choice to be made. You and Ron are my friends and so is Draco. There is no reason why I cannot be friends with all three of you, and if Ron can’t accept that... well, then he is the one making the choice, not me.”

Hermione sank into the seat next to him shaking her head sadly. “I’m just worried, Harry. We’ve been through so much together and now it’s falling apart.” She took hold of Harry’s hand, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then don’t,” Harry said, simply. He freed his hand from Hermione’s grasp and got up out of the chair.

As he turned away from his friend, he heard her speak once more. “What about Ginny? Don’t you care how she feels seeing you and Pansy Parkinson together all the time.”

Harry turned back to face her slowly, his irritation beginning to show. “Hermione, have you listened to a word I’ve just said? Who I choose to spend time with is nobody’s business but mine. I like Pansy, she’s fun and we have a laugh, that’s all you or anybody needs to know.”

Harry exited the Gryffindor common room quickly, before he lost the fragile grip he had on his temper. He didn’t turn back to see the hurt look on Hermione’s face, nor did he see the look of pure fury on Ginny Weasley’s face as she got up from the chair she had been hiding in, listening to Harry talk.

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Draco sat at the Slytherin table, forking listlessly at his breakfast. Pansy stared across the table at her friend, concern evident in her eyes.

“Draco,” she started, “are you ok?”

The blonde head snapped up to meet her gaze, “I’m fine,” he answered shortly.

Pansy tried again, “are you sure, only Blaise said...”

“Well Blaise has a big fucking mouth” Draco cut Pansy off mid sentence and then turned to glare at the Italian boy sitting to his left.

Blaise, for his part, kept his head high and refused to be cowed by the ferocity of his friend’s words or gaze. “I only told Pansy, she won’t tell anyone else.”

Draco let out a harsh laugh at this. “You have met Pansy haven’t you, Blaise? Dark hair, tits and a big fucking mouth!”

“Hey!” Pansy shrieked, digging Draco in the ribs with her elbow

Blaise fixed his friend with a cool stare, “Don’t take it out on Pansy, she’s just concerned about you, we both are.”

“Well you can both just mind your own bloody business.” The snap in Draco’s tone drew curious looks from down the Slytherin table, which did not go unnoticed.

“This isn’t the place, we’ll discuss this later,” Pansy murmured.

“Like fuck we will.” Draco gave both his friends a patented Malfoy death glare, which clearly indicated that the conversation was over.

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, no one really wanting to be the first to break the uneasy ceasefire. Pansy looked up at this point and noticed Harry walking into the room. Seeing that Draco hadn’t noticed the Gryffindor’s arrival, she gave her friend a nudge. Draco looked up and followed Pansy’s gaze over to the other side of the hall. When his eyes met a pair of green ones staring right back at him, a smile lit up his face.

Draco tore his gaze away from Harry, looking down at his plate in an attempt to hide the slight flush he knew was colouring his face. Sensing that now might be a good time to get back on her friends good side, Pansy leaned in and whispered in Draco’s ear.

“Are you going to ask Harry to go to Hogsmeade with you?”

Draco looked up, eyes wide in surprise. When he had seen the notice that morning he had thought it would be nice to invite Harry along, but he had meant with the group of them. Pansy was clearly suggesting that he should ask Harry on a date, just the two of them. The idea did have its appeal, Draco could see that, but this was more than outweighed by the negatives.

Draco knew that the wizarding world wouldn’t have much of an objection to two boys being together like that. It was more likely to be who the two boys were that would cause the outrage. To the public, Harry was their saviour and Draco was nothing more than a Death Eater, regardless of what the Wizengamot had ruled.

“I don’t think so,” Draco answered. Then seeing the surprise in the girl’s eyes, he continued, “I’ll ask him to come with us, but I think it’s just a bit public for the two of us to be seen on a date!”

Pansy nodded slowly, “You’re probably right.”

Pansy carried on speaking, but Draco had ceased to listen. His eyes were once again trained discreetly on the Gryffindor table, watching Harry as he chatted to his friends. He watched as a pretty barn owl swooped down and dropped a letter in front of the green eyed boy.

Draco noticed as the smile faded from Harry’s face, how he folded up the letter with a pained expression and pushed his half eaten breakfast away. Harry sat for a few moments, looking a little lost and it took all of Draco’s restraint not to go over and hug the other boy. He could have cursed Harry’s friends as not one of them had seemed to notice the change in his mood.

Draco turned to Pansy and was about to ask her what she thought it meant, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry get up abruptly and leave the Great Hall. Draco sat for a moment, trying to decide whether to follow him or not. An exasperated sigh from Pansy caught his attention.

“For Merlin’s sake, Draco, would you just go after him? Look, Blaise and I will even walk out with you so it doesn’t look obvious.”

Blaise looked up at this from his heaped plate of food, “But, Pansy,” he whined. The glare on the face of the dark haired girl was enough to make him reconsider any objection he had been about to raise. Snatching a sausage from his plate, he cast a longing look at his breakfast before getting to his feet.

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Once he was in the entrance hall, Draco realised he had left it too late, there was no sign of Harry anywhere. After a brief pause, Draco decided his best option was to head up to the 7th floor and hope that Harry was heading back to Gryffindor tower.

He ran up the stairs as fast as he could, making sure to miss the trick steps along the way. Finally, out of breath, he reached the 7th floor and was rewarded with the sight of a messy haired figure leaning, dejectedly, against the wall.

Surprised green eyes looked up just as Draco attempted to smooth his ruffled hair. Harry smiled at the blonde boy but Draco didn’t miss the fact that it never quite reached his eyes.

“Harry, there you are. I don’t know how you put up with all those stairs every day.”

Harry shrugged and pushed away from the wall, walking closer to the Slytherin. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were following me. Did you want something?”

“What, other than your body?” Draco couldn’t resist teasing.

Harry gave him a playful slap on the arm but didn’t speak, he just stood looking at Draco calmly, waiting for an answer. Draco squirmed under the intensity of the Gryffindor’s gaze and for once found himself slightly tongue tied.

“It’s just...well, I saw...”Draco cursed silently, who would have known that just standing next to Harry could rob him of the power of speech. He looked at the other boy and found him watching, one eyebrow quirked.

“You had that letter and you looked upset. I just wanted to see if you were ok and if you wanted to talk about it or something. Not that you have to, I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, I understand.”

Draco was cut short here as Harry lent forward and brushed their lips together. “You’re babbling, Dray.” This time the smile reached those bright green eyes and Draco felt rewarded for the long climb up the stairs.

“I think I would like to talk about it,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I can though, it’s not really something I’m used to doing. I’d like to try with you though.”

“I’d like that, Harry,” Draco replied sincerely. He felt the Gryffindor tug at his arm, “C’mon, I know the perfect place.”

Draco followed Harry along the 7th floor corridor, wondering where on earth they were going. All too soon, Draco knew exactly where they were heading but Harry didn’t seem to sense his reluctance. As they stopped by the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, Harry turned round to speak. The words died on his lips as he took in the look of barely concealed anguish on the blondes face. He placed a hand uncertainly on Draco’s shoulder.

“Draco, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” As Harry followed Draco’s gaze, he found it was fixed on the door to the Room of Requirement and suddenly things fell into place.

“Crabbe,” Harry whispered softly.

“Amongst other things,” Draco answered bitterly. “I’m sorry Harry, but I just can’t go in there, it’s just too...I just can’t.”

Harry took a quick look over his shoulder to ensure they were alone, then stepped forward and pulled Draco into a warm hug. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against the blonde’s ear. “I didn’t think.”

Draco stepped back, shaking his head slightly. “It’s ok, Harry, you weren’t to know. Let’s just go somewhere else, please.”

“We could go outside? At least no one could overhear us.” Harry looked at the Slytherin boy, concern evident in his eyes.

Draco took hold of Harry’s arm and began to lead him back down the corridor. “Stop making puppy eyes at me Potter, I’m fine.” Then, seeing Harry open his mouth to speak, he added, “If you apologise again, I swear I will hex you.”

Harry grinned at this, “Ah, random threats of violence, now I know you’re alright.”

Draco hesitated as they arrived at the portrait the fat lady, “I’m not going in there” he stated firmly.

Harry, already halfway through the hole, turned round, “C’mon, it’ll be fine, all the others are at breakfast still. I have to go in, i need a cloak if we are going outside.” His eyes ran over Draco, “So do you for that matter. Now you can either come inside with me, or wait out here on your own.”

That settled it for Draco, he placed his hand on the small of Harry’s back and gave a small shove. “Come on, Potter, what are you waiting for?”

They made their way quickly across the room, up the stairs and into the boy’s dormitory. As Harry moved towards the wardrobe, Draco made his way over to what he presumed was Harry’s bed and sank down on it.

He watched Harry as he rifled through his belongings, “So, who was the letter from?”

Harry exited the wardrobe holding two dark winter cloaks and wordlessly passed the letter to him. Draco opened it quickly and a photograph contained within fluttered to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, the breath caught in Draco’s throat and he spoke with a slight shake to his voice.

“Harry,” he wavered, “Why do you have a picture of my Aunt Bellatrix?” Draco looked at Harry, his eyes full of confusion, accusation and, Harry thought, fear too.

Harry reached out and took the picture from the blondes shaking fingers. Although he knew perfectly well who the picture was of, he couldn’t stop the brief moment of panic that rose within him at Draco’s words. Nor could he help the wave of relief that swept through him when he glanced at the picture and didn’t find the crazed eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange glaring back at him.

Realising that grey eyes were still fixed on him waiting for an explanation, Harry sat back on the bed and held the picture out to Draco, who took it reluctantly.

“It’s not her,” Harry paused, then seeing the blonde readying to argue this point he continued. “It is your Aunt, just not that one.”

Draco was looking more confused than ever, “Will you stop being so cryptic, Harry. If that’s not Bellatrix,” a slight shudder ran trough him at just saying the name, “then who the hell is it?”

Harry took pity on the Slytherin’s frayed nerves, “It’s Andromeda Tonks, she’s your mothers other sister.”

Harry didn’t miss the faint flash of relief that crossed Draco’s face, before he swiftly put his Malfoy mask firmly back in place.

“Who’s the baby?” Draco looked closer at the picture, “And why does it have blue hair?”

Harry chuckled at this, “That’s her Grandson, Teddy. He’s a Metamorphmagus, like his mum was.” The smile died from Harry’s eyes with these words, a fact that was not lost on Draco.

“Was?” he queried.

“Yeah, she died in the final battle.” Harry answered softly.

Something tugged at Draco’s memory and for a moment he found himself back at Malfoy Manor, seated around a table with Death Eaters. There was a faint echo of catcalls and jeers and then Voldemort was there, talking to him. Draco felt a moment of terror as he remembered the cold red eyes fixed on him, asking him if he would babysit his cousin’s cubs now that she had married the werewolf.

Draco shook his head, trying to remove the taint of his memories. He turned to Harry and saw that he was looking at him in concern.

“Draco, are you ok?” Harry’s hand slid over to Draco’s leg and rested gently on his thigh.

“I’m fine, really. Just bad memories.” He looked down at the picture of the chubby smiling baby and then back to the green eyed boy at his side.

“I don’t understand though, Harry, why would this make you sad? They both look happy enough.”

“That’s only because Teddy is too young to know what he’s lost. He doesn’t understand that both his parents are dead and that it’s...”

“That it’s what, Harry?” Draco questioned. Harry refused to meet his gaze, his eyes fixed instead on the floor. The blonde watched him in silence for a few moments before he understood what Harry had been going to say.

“It’s your fault. That’s what you were going to say wasn’t it?” Draco reached out a hand and gently turned Harry’s face to look at him.

“Harry, did you kill his parents?” No reply came from the Gryffindor other than a slight shake of the head. “So why would you say it’s your fault?”

“Because it is. Voldemort was after me, no one else. They died, all those people died, because I took so long to finish it. If I had just been quicker...”

Draco cut Harry off here the only way he knew how, by pressing his lips against the dark haired boy’s and kissing him gently.

“Stupid Gryffindor,” Draco murmured as he lightly stroked his hand down Harry’s flushed cheek. “You did more than anyone had a right to expect from you.” Draco laid a finger on Harry’s lips at this point, forbidding the Gryffindor from arguing this point.

“I know you don’t believe me when I say it isn’t your fault. But I just want you to know that I’m going to keep on saying it until you do. So don’t argue with me on this, Harry, because you won’t win.”

Harry managed a faint smile at this and teasingly parted his lips and took Draco’s finger into his mouth, sucking it lightly. He watched as the blonde boys eyelids fluttered closed briefly, before grey eyes were staring at him, dark with lust.

“I think you had better stop doing that, Harry, or your roommates are going to be in for quite a shock when they come back.” Draco shifted his position slightly in an effort to hide his burgeoning erection.

Harry pulled his lips off Draco’s finger with a ‘pop’ and grinned sheepishly at the blonde.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Draco stood up and took one of the cloaks, slipping it round his shoulders. “Come on, we’d better get going. Breakfast must be about over and I don’t imagine that my presence would go down overly well with the rest of Gryffindor.”

“That’s only because they don’t know you like I do” Harry said, a cheeky grin on his face

“Yes, well I hadn’t exactly planned on dry humping my way through Gryffindor house in a bid to raise my popularity. Although it might be kind of funny to see the Weasel’s face if I tried it with him.”

A laugh escaped Harry’s lips and he lightly smacked Draco on the arm. “Deviant!” he accused. Then he stood up and headed for the door, looking back over his shoulder at Draco, a smirk on his face.

“Come on, we’ll go down to the Quidditch pitch. There’ll be no one there and you can work on increasing your popularity with me some more!”

Draco raised an eyebrow at this, “I thought we were going to talk?”

Harry simply shrugged, “talking’s overrated!”

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