Gilded Soul

Chapter 21 Return of the Know-It-All

Harry and Draco made the most of their last opportunity to eat breakfast together. By lunchtime, the tables would return to normal and Gryffindor would be once again separated from Slytherin by two other houses and they would have to go back to long distant glances and knowing looks across the great hall.

It also wouldn’t take long for their sense of peace to crumble. The school had been practically empty these last two weeks, and even though the few left around them never made a comment on the unlikely duos newfound companionship, it wouldn’t stop them from gabbing with their housemates about it when everyone returned later that day.

Draco was already bracing himself for the cold stares and ridicule that would follow him when his own Slytherin housemates found out about him and Harry. They had not bothered disguising their affection for one another, and he knew that even though they never did anything like kiss in the corridors, they could have most certainly been spied holding hands once or twice. The thought of it brought a twinge of color to his cheeks. His previous cautious calculating self would never have been caught doing such things. Not even with a Slytherin girl, let alone a Gryffindor boy.

Something about Harry made him drop all his guards, made him say and do things he wouldn’t even think of before. He wasn’t looking forward to the backlash he would get for it from his fellow Slytherin’s, though.

He looked over at Harry who was staring off into space and he wondered if the Gryffindor had the same concerns. Maybe his housemates would be more sympathetic and kind, but somehow he doubted it. He knew from experience that the lions could be just as prejudice, if not more so against his house as the Slytherin’s were to them. It was by far the biggest rivalry in the school, much larger even than the animosity Slytherin had toward the idiot Hufflepuff’s.

It was a common misconception that Slytherin’s were mean and cruel, though they could be if the purpose served, but it was much more than that. Slytherin’s were more… emotionally impaired. His housemates all came from pureblood families, most of them quite wealthy, and had all undergone years of tutoring before setting foot at Hogwarts. In addition to vast amounts of magical training, it was also instilled into every single one of them that emotions were weakness.

Draco still believed this, however, he was having a much harder time schooling his emotions into a tight cold mask now that he was with Harry. The infuriating Gryffindor was the antithesis of everything Draco had been taught from a young boy. That was probably part of the allure though, especially since discovering the flaws in other things his father had instilled in him growing up.

Harry was still staring off into the distance and Draco took a moment to study the proud Gryffindor. He loved the way his messy black hair curled perfectly around his ears and he knew that even though it looked rough and untamed, it was as soft as silk. In fact he often had to stop himself from just reaching out and running his hand through it. He also loved how his modesty was reflected in the way he kept his hair. No matter how long or short he decided to wear it, he always kept the fringe long enough to cover his famous scar. Draco had often thought over the last few years that Harry was fame hungry, things just managed to happen around him to keep him in the spotlight, but after getting to know him it was obvious that it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Both boys turned as a couple owls flew in to deliver post to a few of the students in the hall. Draco watched the look of faint disappointment cross Harry’s features when neither of the owls flew toward them. He imagined Harry rarely got post and felt a little sad for the Gryffindor, though he imagined he would be experiencing the same thing now that his mother was shunning his existence. “Expecting something?”

Harry merely shrugged. “I sent out a couple letters earlier in the week, and I expected to hear something back by now.”

Draco didn’t like it when Harry was purposefully vague. It usually meant it concerned Draco directly and he had a sudden urge to pull the information from the other boy. “It was about me wasn’t it?” The direct approach always seemed to work the best with the Gryffindor; he appeared to be immune to subtle hints and wouldn’t fall for them.

The edge of Harry’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “Maybe.”

Draco scoffed. “I insist you tell me. If you’ve been slandering my name all over England I have a right to know.” He tried for his best sneer, but even without a mirror he knew it fell short.

It had no effect on Harry, who just smiled wider. “I was just sending back an interview to Witch Weekly detailing our budding new relationship.”

Draco laughed. “Fine, don’t tell me. Just keep in mind Slytherin’s have a way of sussing out information on their own.”

“Right, and how would you do that exactly?”

“I have my sources,” he replied with a wink.

It was Harry’s turn to laugh. “Something tells me Hedwig isn’t going to talk.”

“You just think you’re so clever,” he responded, drawing out the words and trying not to laugh.

Harry shrugged, smirking. “I think it’s common knowledge that I’m the brains in this relationship.”

“Does that make me the beauty?” Draco asked, batting his eyelashes coquettishly.

Harry’s piercing green eyes bored into his own and he could almost see the lustful thoughts flicking through them. “Obviously.”

--

Harry made his way to the common room before lunch. Students had been pouring back into the school and he was eager to see Hermione. He greeted several other Gryffindor’s along the way but only got curt nods and short hellos in response. He didn’t have time to pause and contemplate it however, because he spotted Hermione walking through the portrait hole.

He ran to catch up and managed to grasp her arm before she headed up the stairs to the girls dormitory. She jumped on him like a feral cat, hugging him roughly. “Harry, you gave me a fright with that letter!”

Harry blushed. “Sorry. I just had to get them out. I’ll explain everything that’s been going on once you’re all settled in.”

“Them? So you sent more than just my letter?”

Harry shrugged. “Well yeah. I don’t want just any one person to be responsible for his safety.”

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Harry, who else did you send letters to?”

Harry felt bewildered. “Remus and Arthur. Why?”

“I take it you haven’t read the Profit lately?” she huffed.

He scowled. “You know I never read that rubbish.”

She sighed dramatically. “Well that rubbish had your letter on the front page yesterday. Someone leaked it. I couldn’t imagine Professor Lupin or Mr Weasley doing so, but… “ She paled slightly and stepped away from Harry.

“What?”

“Ron.” It was a whisper barely audible even to Harry in his close proximity. “I’m going to kill him!”

“You think Ron leaked my letter to the paper?” He didn’t know how to feel. He’d tried not to think about Ron since he got himself expelled and every time he did he was flooded with a wave of guilt and betrayal. What he did to Draco had been despicable and unforgivable, but he kept thinking that if he had only been honest with his friend from the beginning, than maybe the whole incident could have been avoided.

“He must have. I can’t think of anyone else that would have had access that hated you so desperately.”

“Plenty of people hate me Hermione… wait… Ron hates me?” Harry was crushed. His oldest friend seemed lost to him forever.

She looked compassionately at Harry. “He blames you for his expulsion. He thinks you could have talked Dumbledore into letting him stay.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!” Harry shouted, his guilt quickly turning into rage. He was angered that his best friend, the person who was supposed to know him so well, would think that Harry would use any of his fame or influence to keep Ron from being disciplined. It wasn’t Harry’s place, in fact he had asked Dumbledore if there wouldn’t be another way, but he had been insistent that ‘violence such as what Mr Weasley inflicted upon Mr Malfoy will never be tolerated within these walls.’

“I know,” she replied with a pacifying hand on his arm, “what he did justified expulsion, but he feels like you chose Malfoy over him, and he’s hurt and angry.”

“He told you this?” His head was reeling. Did he pick Draco over Ron? In a way he supposed he did, but it didn’t have to come down to that. If he chose Draco it was only because Ron made him choose, not because he wanted to. If he could have his way, Ron would still be at Hogwarts and they would still be best mates. He knew the likelihood of Draco and Ron being friendly was probably slim to none, but they could at least learn to be civil to one another.

“Not in so many words, but yes. I wrote to him at the Burrow over the holiday and he was still angry with you in the letter he wrote back.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged. He knew Ron’s temper and knew he could hold a grudge. Back in fourth year he spent months hating Harry for something he didn’t even do, but Ron had been too stubborn to listen. He tried to shrug it off. “Well what does it matter if the letter got leaked. All it says is that Draco’s not a Death Eater and that I want him protected.”

“Harry,” Hermione huffed as if she were talking to a small child, “sometimes you can be so naive. You of all people should know well enough how the Profit likes to twist things around and make something bigger out of them. They’ve only used certain lines of the letter in their reporting and it makes it look like your consorting with the son of a known, and might I add imprisoned, Death Eater and that you’re trying to bully people into protecting his identity.”

“I… how the hell did they get that out my letter?” Harry shouted, exasperated.

“I don’t know, Harry, but lines like ‘I want him protected at all costs’ and ‘he’s important to me, so if anything happens, he must be kept out of the Ministries grasp’ don’t make it too hard to give the public the wrong impression.”

Harry slumped into a nearby armchair. “I don’t know what to do, Hermione. I can’t even write a letter to people I trust without strangers attacking me. Its not fair.”

Hermione took a seat on the arm of the chair and stoked his head. “I know, love. I know. You know its just going to get worse the more involved you get with Malfoy.”

Harry nodded. “I know, but… I think I’m in love with him,” he said quietly.

Hermione’s gasp brought everyone’s attention though. “Does he know?” she whispered.

“I told him last night,” he replied, nodding.

“What did he say?”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“He said ‘okay’,” Harry said a little shyly.

Hermione pulled him into a deep hug. “Harry, I’m so sorry. That’s awful. Would you like me to hex him for you?”

He laughed. “No, it’s mostly sorted out now. I think he feels similar, but is too scared or something.” He shrugged. “Anyhow, it’s probably for the best. Who knows how long I’ll be around anyhow?”

“Harry, I swear to Merlin if you don’t stop talking like that you won’t have to wait for Voldemort to kill you. I’ll do you in myself.” She brandished her wand for emphasis. Harry smirked at he and she scowled. “I think you’ve been spending a little too much time with the ferret,” at his questioning look she continued, “his mannerisms are beginning to rub off on you.”

The smirk was quickly replaced by a genuine Harry smile and she relaxed slightly. “I trust you’ll keep me in line?”

“Of course.” She said, smiling and petting his head lightly.

--

Hermione didn’t remain in a good mood. By the time she showered changed and arrived at the Room of Requirement for lunch with Harry and Draco she was feeling better, but after they explained that they went through the second trial she was livid.

“I thought I told you not to go any further in the maze without me here to help!” She was shouting and cursing and pacing around the spacious room.

“Hermione,” Harry said smiling, “we’re fine.”

“Thank Merlin for that, but you both took huge risks!”

Harry explained about the poison and how the maze wouldn’t let them just remain stationary and how they really had no choice but to continue. It made little difference to her however. Not even telling her about all the research they had been doing over the last two weeks made much of a difference in her mood.

At least not until she actually saw the books.

“Harry, these are magnificent, from Dumbledore’s own collection you said?” Harry nodded. “Do you think he would mind if I…” she whispered, rubbing her hand across one of the books like it was a long lost lover.

“I’m sure he expects you to pour over them immediately,” Harry said laughing. “In fact, he would probably be offended if you didn’t”

--

Draco stayed out of the discussion between Granger and Harry. His mind was still reeling from what Harry had told him about the letters and the Profit story and Ron. He couldn’t fathom what had possessed Harry to write those letters, but he felt strangely warm and fuzzy to know that Harry cared so much he would insist others protect him even in Harry’s absence. He also felt slightly disgruntled. He was a powerful wizard in his own right and could take care of himself. Still, the gesture only went to further emphasize what Harry had told him the previous evening.

Harry loved him.

He was a little flustered about the Daily Profit report. He would normally pitch a fit and let his father take care of the paper and the reporters involved, but it seemed this would take some finesse of his own. He would get a copy of the letter from Hermione and contact the paper himself and demand a retraction.

As for Ron, he suspected Hermione was correct in her assumption. The Weasel always had a volatile temper and now it seemed he was directing his anger at not just him, but Harry as well. It wasn’t fair, but then life often fell far short of fair. He didn’t think it was his place to step in on that particular matter.

The thing that had been bothering him the most lately, however, he decided he needed to speak on right away. “Granger, did you know our Harry could do wandless magic?”

--

Hermione looked first at Malfoy questioningly, then at Harry when what Draco had said finally struck home. “Harry, is that true?”

Harry merely shrugged slightly and went back to looking at the book in her hands.

She promptly snapped it shut with a loud thud and tapped her foot waiting for Harry to elaborate.

He didn’t.

“Well?” Hermione asked impatiently.

“I guess I can,” Harry replied, not looking up.

“You guess?” she asked, a look of frustration and awe plainly on her face.

Harry looked up, clearly embarrassed, and met Hermione’s glare. “Yes, I can do wandless magic.” He turned to scowl at Draco next. “Thanks, Malfoy!” Draco merely shrugged and made a gesture of feigned innocence.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to know that?” she demanded, looking offended.

Harry felt awkward about the whole thing after Draco had made a huge deal about it a few nights previous. It made him feel like even more of a freak, and all he wanted to be was normal… well a normal wizard anyway. “It’s yet another thing I have in common with him.”

Hermione sighed and he knew if anyone could understand it would be her. “How long have you seen able to use wandless magic, Harry?” He voice was soft and placating but it didn’t match the worry lines across her face.

He shrugged again. “I was doing accidental magic before I even came to Hogwarts, and I didn’t have a wand back then. I’ve been doing spells without it off and on as long as I’ve known I was a wizard. Mostly little things like summoning my wand, or my glasses or my broom. It saves time. I feel a little depleted afterward though, as if it takes more energy to cast spells without a wand.”

“Well maybe it has nothing to do with Voldemort’s powers, sweetie. Maybe you were born with the innate ability. Have you done any other spells? Anything larger? More difficult?”

Draco sat in his armchair watching the conversation with rapt attention. Hermione had a way of getting Harry to open up that was completely unmatched. Draco felt a twinge of jealousy at Harry’s bond with the young witch. He had been trying to get him to talk about it for days, and here in the span of fifteen minutes, she had him spilling his guts about it.

“I made a patronus once or twice,” Harry replied meekly.

Hermione shook he head. “Does Dumbledore know?”

Harry scoffed. “What doesn’t he know?”

“Well maybe he knows, but if even I’ve never noticed, than it stands to reason that he may not.” She took a deep breath and watched Harry carefully. “You understand that it takes a very powerful wizard to do wandless magic?”

Harry nodded. “I didn’t until Malfoy told me, but yeah. I do now.” Draco flinched at the use of his last name but didn’t say anything about it. Obviously Harry was still pissed at him. He wondered how long he would continue calling him ‘Malfoy’ when he was angry.

Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip and not meeting Harry’s gaze. “Hermione?” Harry tried to quietly get her attention. “You’re not… afraid of me are you? I couldn’t take it if… “

Hermione’s head shot up at the sound of his voice, so broken and delicate like a small child. She leapt at him and smothered him in a forceful hug. “Merlin no, Harry, I could never be afraid of you,” she practically sobbed into his hair.

Draco watched on as the two old friends embraced and the jealous pit in his stomach grew larger. Would he ever have that sort of openness with the boy? Would he ever be able to hold Harry as he cried or vice versa… not that Malfoy’s cried. Ever.

He knew that if Harry told Hermione that he loved her just then, that she wouldn’t hesitate responding likewise. Suddenly he wanted Harry to tell him again, so he could tell Harry he loved him, too. To shout it, anything that would allow him to hold the now shuddering Gryffindor and comfort him.