A Series of Connecting the Dots

Author's Note: Well, now it's Laurel's turn and we get to see what Harry thinks of Draco's proposal

Chapter 22 – Harry – Warts and all.

The floor was hard underneath me, and cold, very cold. It numbed my hands and my arse as I sat there just staring up at him. I was speechless. What could I say to that? He’d confessed so much to me and I couldn’t even bring myself to believe it, let alone know what to say to him.

“I know it’s a lot and-” he started to babble again, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop talking, Draco!” I demanded, beginning to feel panicked and stressed. “Please, just stop talking.”

He shut his mouth quickly and I could see how hurt he was, but there was nothing I could do for him. I couldn’t even help myself right now, let alone find the strength to comfort him. We sat there in silence for a few more minutes; him sitting up in his bed, and me on the ground. Eventually, my clarity and strength returned to me, and I knew I had to get out of there.

“I need to think,” I announced as I pulled myself up on to my feet and walked out the door. I knew I wouldn’t be able to clear my mind enough to process any of this while he was still in the room with me looking expectant and anxious. At the last second I turned and saw the devastation on his face; he must have thought I was leaving him and I had to wonder if he was right. I didn’t know yet.

I didn’t feel like myself anymore as I walked back up to Gryffindor Tower. I felt like someone else must have taken over my body, my mind was empty and I was frightened by how little I felt. I was numb.

Death Eater. Death Eater. Death Eater.

I could picture Draco clear as day standing in the circle of Death Eaters around me in fourth year, just as I’d seen his father. His proud, pointed features hidden underneath the cloak and mask of Voldemort’s followers. I could see him pointing his wand at me and laughing at how much I had loved him and how it had all been a lie.

I wanted to die.

If he wanted to kill me, I wanted to let him.

A painful mixture of hurt and love ripped through my heart again as I remembered the passion of our first kiss and how he had held me all that night. He’d given himself to me, and that memory erased my imaginings of Draco standing with his father in that graveyard. The boy I knew could never wear that mask.

Suddenly he was my Draco again, and this time I imagined him frightened and forced at wand point to swear his loyalty to Voldemort. But I knew that couldn’t have been true, Voldemort was not stupid enough to induct someone actively unwilling to join him; Draco may have been persuaded, but I knew he wouldn’t have been physically forced.

By the time I reached the common room my head was no clearer than it had been when I’d been on the infirmary floor staring dumbly at my boyfriend as he proposed to me.

Oh God, he proposed to me.

I picked Hermione and Ron out of the crowd of Gryffindors almost immediately and made my way over to them. “Hermione,” I said quietly. “Can I talk to you somewhere private?”

She looked up at me with wide, concerned eyes, and I wondered what I looked like to her. “Of course,” she nodded. Ron looked at me like he wasn’t sure if he should come with us and I shook my head at him.

“Later, I just need to talk to Hermione first,” I explained and hoped he would understand.

Hermione led me out of the Tower and we twisted down corridors and staircases until she pulled me into an empty classroom where we wouldn’t be disturbed. As we walked I tried to decide where I should start, what I wanted to tell her and what I wanted to keep to myself. In the end, all I could see in my mind was Draco holding his arm out to me so I could see that menacing tattoo moving dangerously on his once perfect skin.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered carefully; I’d almost forgotten she was there with me in my daze of muddled thoughts. “What happened? I thought you were with Draco?”

I gritted my teeth as I felt my anger boil up in me; that tattoo in the forefront of my mind. “I’m going to kill him,” I hissed. “If it takes the last breath I have, I will kill him.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione gasped. “What happened!? I thought everything was going so well for you and Malfoy?”

“He marked him!” I exclaimed, kicking over the desk in front of me. I wanted to lash out and destroy everything in my sight, just so that for a second it might not hurt so much. “He touched him!”

Hermione winced as the desk clattered to the floor, but she didn’t move from where she stood. She just frowned at me, showing her pain and concern for what I was obviously feeling. “How did you find out?” she asked.

“He told me,” I sighed. I was still angry, but my hurt was crushing in on me and taking over.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, and her hand reached out halfway to touch me, before thinking better of it and pulling back. I was glad she did, I wasn’t ready to be hugged yet. “Is it over between you two?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think so. He asked me to marry him actually.”

“He what!?” she practically shouted. “He proposed? Right after he told you he’d cheated on you!?”

“What?” I barked, my mouth falling open. “Draco hasn’t cheated on me!” Part of me wanted to slap her for even suggesting it, but fortunately I had enough sense not to act on it.

“You just said Draco had touched some other guy, that he’d marked him or something, and you felt like killing him,” she frowned. Her eyes were searching mine for meaning; she had gotten completely the wrong idea and I was going to have to explain it to her bluntly.

“Draco was the one who was marked – by Voldemort!” I snapped, frustrated with her - and with myself and Draco. “And I will kill Voldemort for touching him – and for so many other reasons. He took my family, and destroyed my life, but that bastard will fucking pay for marking my boyfriend! What if this ruins our relationship? How can I look at that tattoo every day for the rest of my life?”

“He’s marked?” Hermione whispered, her mouth fell open a little in surprise and her shoulders tensed. “You mean Draco is a – a -”

“Death Eater,” I finished for her. “Yes, he is.”

“Fuck,” she swore; something I don’t think I’ve ever heard her do. “I thought he was too young.”

“So did I,” I scoffed in disbelief. It still didn’t feel real to me even though I could see the Dark Mark clearly contrasting on Draco’s pale skin.

“He’s not even of age,” she said softly, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Yes, well, I’m just guessing, but something tells me Voldemort doesn’t have a very strong moral compass,” I replied sarcastically.

“So, he just came out and told you this?” she questioned, ignoring my jibe. “Why?”

I shrugged wearily. “I dunno,” I sighed. “Apparently his mother has given her approval of our relationship and consented to our marriage; he must have wanted to propose right away. He told me, I suppose, because he wanted to make sure I knew what I would be agreeing to.”

“Wow,” she breathed, sinking back into the desk behind her. “Did you answer him?”

I shook my head.

“What do you think you’ll say?” she asked. If only I knew the answer to that question.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. “There’s a lot I need to think about first, but I needed to talk to someone.”

“I understand,” she nodded. “I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me, because you can, you know?”

“I know,” I nodded and then looked up into her eyes. “I hate to ask you this, but can you not say anything to anyone, not even Ron. I want to tell him myself once I know what I’m going to say to Draco.”

She looked at me resolutely. “Of course,” she nodded; her eyes still burning with conviction, she was determined to prove herself to me. Again, that’s not want I wanted from her, but if it worked in my favour I wasn’t going to argue.

--

I was in a cell. It was dark and wet like I was in the Hogwarts dungeons under the lake. There was nothing else in the small room, no bed, no toilet, just me. I knew where I was, but I couldn’t quite think of it. I couldn’t really remember. Voldemort, I think, he must have captured me.

I wondered about Draco and, as if bidden by my thoughts, he arrived. He opened the cell door and came to me.

“Harry,” he said, and he knelt down beside me where I sat on the hard stone. I was so glad to see him I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close. He laughed. “You’re such a fool, Harry,” he said.

Somewhere inside me I knew what this was; he’d betrayed me. It wasn’t Voldemort who’d captured me at all, it had been Draco. My Draco. I released him from our embrace immediately, and he looked at me with that devious smirk he used to wear so often.

“I love you, Harry,” he said, mocking me with his tone of voice – teasing me – making it plainly obvious he didn’t love me at all. “You’re my first, Harry, I want you to make love to me, Harry.” He kept saying my name and it hurt more each time he did.

I tried to crawl away from him. I couldn’t stand for some reason, but I tried to shuffle myself away from him anyway. “The Dark Lord is so pleased with me, Harry,” he laughed joyously. “I think he’s going to reward me nicely for this! I may even get promoted, he trusts me now.”

His words stabbed through my soul, shattering it.

“He’s going to kill you, you know?” he said, smiling at me. “And the best part is, he’s going to let me watch! I’m really moving up in the world now, Harry, and it’s all thanks to you and your heart – your weak, weak heart.” He laughed uproariously and I could feel my weak heart breaking. “I can’t believe you fell for me, you idiot! Now, I get to watch you die!”

--

I woke with a start and was surprised, for a fraction of a second, to find myself in my bed in my dorm room. The air was chilly, but my body was boiling, I was covered in sweat and the blankets felt like they were suffocating me. I kicked them off angrily and tried not to think of the dream I’d just had. In the quiet room it was hard to hide from the feeling I got when I saw Draco laugh at my impending death, and how happy he was to watch it happen.

I slipped out of bed and tiptoed silently to the bathroom, feeling relief at the cold air washing over me and drying up my sweat. I lit the candles in the bathroom and closed the door, leaning over the sink wondering if my heaving stomach had anything to push back up. I glanced tiredly up at myself in the mirror; I looked like Hell, which was fitting since I felt like Hell too.

“How did this happen?” I whispered to myself.

In that moment I knew, with surprising and instantaneous clarity, that I would be able to forgive Draco of being a Death Eater and being Marked. I could forgive him for pledging himself to Voldemort and his devastating cause. He was young and easily influenced by his deranged father; I couldn’t completely blame him for his mistake. What I couldn’t seem to get past, however, was his betrayal.

Not too long ago Draco had wanted me dead, and he was willing to see to that personally by tricking me, betraying me, and offering me up to Voldemort on a silver platter.

How could I be with him after that?

In the back of my mind something reminded me that I had been hoping to use him too. I was hoping he would help me destroy Voldemort with inside information and maybe even access to the madman. I hadn’t exactly been honest myself.

Still, I couldn’t get past it. Draco was willing to see me dead for his own betterment – was this the person I loved?

I sighed and then someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Everything alright, mate?” I heard Ron ask from the other side.

“Yeah, fine,” I called back to him. “Just give me a second.”

“Okay,” he said and I heard him walk back over to his bed.

He knew something was up with me. I’d seen him question Hermione after we got back to the common room, but I also saw her firmly shaking her head, refusing to answer his questions.

I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t want to lie, since we were only just getting our friendship back on track, but I wasn’t sure how he would handle hearing the truth and I didn’t want to risk it. The old Ron that I used to know would have tried to hex Draco for deceiving me, I wasn’t sure what he would do now, and I wasn’t ready to find out.

--

As opposed to what I had felt yesterday, today I hoped that Draco might spend another day in the Hospital Wing so I wouldn’t have to see him. I needed some space, some time away from him to think, and to decide what I wanted to do.

I still loved him with all my heart, but right now I couldn’t tell if it was stupid of me to love him so much. Should I be trying to push him out of my heart? Or should I be trying to find a way to be with him despite his previous desire to see me dead? Could I trust him now?

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I saw him walk into the Great Hall for breakfast; fate seemed to hate me after all. In the instant I saw him, he saw me too, and it was as if the Great Hall and all the other students and teachers had melted away; it was just us two standing there, staring across the room at one another. We paused in our moment together, and, even though I could feel that natural pull I had encouraging me to go to him, all I could see was that twisted smile from my nightmares as he mocked me for loving him.

I turned away, breaking our connection and walked over to the Gryffindor table to join my old friends.

Later, when I looked up to the Slytherin table, searching for him in spite of everything, he was gone.

--

I knew I had two classes with Draco that day, and I honestly wasn’t sure how I would get through them. We had been sitting together in most of these classes for months now, and I knew I couldn’t sit there with him today. If I did and he didn’t talk to me it would kill me, but if we sat together and he tried to talk to me, I wouldn’t have anything to say to him, and it would kill both of us.

I wasn’t ignorant to how much I was hurting him; I could see it on his face. He looked stoic, to the rest of the world, Draco felt nothing, but I knew better. In that moment we shared this morning in the Great Hall, his eyes showed me his pain, his longing, and his truth – how much he loved me.

I was a fool, I knew that, he loved me and I loved him; we should be together. I only wished it were that simple.

I had hoped to get to class before Draco so that I would be able to sit myself next to Hermione and not look at him when he came in, but it wasn’t to be. Draco was early and already seated at our usual desk, I stared at him for a second, but he refused to look at me.

I knew I should sit with him, that I should go to him tell him I loved him and say that nothing in the world would make me happier than to marry him – and to a certain extent that was true – but I couldn’t be sure his past wouldn’t come up to bite us both in the future. If I married him, I wanted to say forever and I wanted to mean it.

I took up my seat with Hermione and even though he didn’t turn around I felt like he was watching my every move.

Students filed into the classroom and Professor Binns floated through the wall and, without preamble, began his class in droning monotones. I stared at the back of Draco’s head the whole time.

Divination later that day was no different, I sat with Ron, who had been giving me troubled looks all day, and stared at Draco.

I wanted him so much. I wanted to say yes to him so much, but I didn’t know what it would mean if I did.

--

I have no idea how I managed to survive the day, but somehow I did. Hours slipped silently into each other and my heart cracked more with each passing second as I felt Draco slipping through my fingers. Yesterday I would have told you I had a solid grip on my relationship with Draco, that we could get through anything and that I would love him no matter what he did or had done. Now I wasn’t so sure. I wondered if Lady Malfoy was right; everything is love when you’re sixteen, everything is forever, and everything is pure and true and soul defining.

I sighed, staring at the stars up above me. I wondered which of the constellations my lover was named after, or if his constellation could even been seen from here.

I had retreated, as soon as I could, to the safety of the Quidditch Pitch. I cared not for the cold closing in around me, nor the darkness as it blanketed the sky. I just needed to be alone.

I had to decide what I would do about Draco tonight; I couldn’t cope with another day like today and I wouldn’t put him through that either.

I took a deep breath and tried to go through everything logically.

Draco’s crimes against me were many; years of bullying, manipulation, lies, plots against me, and an affiliation with Lord Voldemort. However, I had already forgiven him for the bullying, and I had known he was keeping things from me … I just didn’t think was keeping…Death Eater, plots of my demise…It hurt to think about.

“It’s fucking freezing out here, Man,” Ron exclaimed, making me jump with surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Thinking,” I shrugged. It was unexpected, but I actually found myself glad of his company. “Sit down, I’ll cast us a warming charm.”

Ron sat down on the grass beside me and I warmed us both with my wand. His presence made me feel less alone and not so lost.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on,” he said to me quietly; the silence of the night wrapped around us both, giving his words that much more meaning. “Hermione told me I wasn’t to ask you about it and I won’t, I just want you to know that whatever reason you think you can talk to her and not me…well, you’re wrong.” I looked at him in surprise; I hadn’t been expecting that from him. “I know you’re having problems with Malfoy, but you don’t have to worry that I won’t understand ‘cause you’re gay or whatever, or ‘cause it’s Malfoy. I don’t care about that stuff, I just want to be able to help, you know?”

I nodded; I felt a little guilty. I’d underestimated him again, assuming he wouldn’t understand – the same reason I didn’t confide in him about my sexuality. “I do need help,” I said. “I can’t think….”

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Last time I saw you together you were deliriously happy with each other.”

“He asked me to marry him,” I said, because it was this that was at the forefront of my mind; I needed to answer him tomorrow and I didn’t know what I would say.

It sounded like Ron choked a little on his own phlegm when I told him that. “Is he even allowed to?” he asked. Obviously Ron was more familiar with pureblood marriage rules than I was.

“Apparently his mother has consented to our marriage on the provision that I defeat Voldemort,” I replied, still trying to understand it myself. “Draco thinks she still has some kind of agenda of her own, but he’s not too worried about it just yet.”

“Right,” Ron stated, sounding like he was struggling to understand it himself. “So that’s the problem, he proposed and you freaked because you’ve only been together for a week?”

“Well not really, there was a lot of lead up to the proposal,” I said vaguely. “If he’d just asked me I probably would have agreed right away because I do want to marry him, I love him that much. But he confessed a few things to me before he asked me and … I dunno….”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” he sighed, sounding disappointed.

The night quieted and the air was still. Ron leaned back on his arms and stared up into the stars. I just sat with him for a few minutes, wondering if I should confess Draco’s secrets, and mine, to him.

He hadn’t given me any reason not to trust him since we’d rekindled our friendship – in truth he’d been nothing but supportive, so I decided to give him a chance. “Draco’s a Death Eater,” I said, and I saw him stiffen, but he didn’t reply. “He was marked by Voldemort a few months ago when he turned sixteen. He’s been hiding his mark from me, but he showed me last night.”

Ron was silent for a moment. “A Death Eater?” It sounded like he didn’t quite believe it either.

“Yes, but believe it or not, that’s not what bothers me so much,” I replied, sorting my thoughts out as I spoke. “I mean, I can see how he’d be led astray by his father and his entire upbringing. He would have grown up being told that was his future so it’s not that surprising that when they wanted to Mark him, he let them.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ron shrugged, although I’m not sure if he believed it.

“I know he regrets it now, he’s not loyal to Voldemort at all,” I explained, and I knew as I said it aloud that it was true. I remembered clearly how desperately he explained to me that whatever I decided to do that he would always belong to me. “He’s loyal to me, he wouldn’t ever hurt me.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Ron asked me simply, and that question resounded through me: What is the problem!?

“The problem is that he wanted to hurt me not that long ago,” I said, not sure that I really believed it anymore. Draco loved me now, wasn’t that all that mattered? “He had planned to betray me, that’s how this whole thing started. He was going to make me fall for him then hand me over to Voldemort.”

Ron sighed heavily, his breath whooshing out of his lungs noisily in the evening quiet. “Harry, I don’t like Malfoy that much, and I’m not sure that he won’t hurt you eventually, but in the spirit of saying the right thing here, I think you need to remember that Malfoy is essentially an idiot.” I frowned in confusion and nearly burst out laughing at the seriousness of Ron’s tone. “Malfoy seems to be one of those idiots who decides on something before he knows anything about it – kind of like me – but the good thing about idiots like Malfoy and me is that, once we do start to figure things out, we realize what idiots we really are. Hermione is really understanding about how stupid I can be sometimes and she forgives me for a lot things. I would have thought she’d have chucked me by now, but I guess I’m just lucky.”

I couldn’t believe the logic that Ron was sharing with me. It was his own special way of thinking about it, but underneath his coarse wording was exactly what I needed to hear. “So you’re saying that…?”

“Malfoy didn’t know anything about you when he decided, in all his infinite wisdom, or lack thereof, to make you fall for him and then wrap you up like a present for You-Know-Who,” he answered.

I smiled; I could feel my heart warming already. “Yeah, he said that,” I told Ron, my dreamy lust for Draco filling me up again. “He said that he had fallen for me long before I’d even look at him.”

“So, it sound like you weren’t stupid enough to fall for his tricks anyway,” Ron reasoned. “But when he was genuinely trying to get into your knickers….”

I laughed loudly with embarrassment because Ron was so spot on it was unnerving. Draco hadn’t tricked me at all; he’d tried to trick me and failed. I was feeling light again, and grinning like an idiot.

“So, does this mean I’m going to have to get new Dress robes?” he asked me, and I smiled at him, not having any clue what he was talking about, but not caring in the least.

“What?” I asked him, chuckling.

“Well, were you planning to ask someone else to be your best man?”

I laughed again, and before I thought about how uncomfortable it might make him, I hugged him – and he hugged me back.

--

I was so excited about seeing Draco that morning that I could hardly relax enough to fall asleep. Ron kept groaning at me to shut up and stop tossing and turning in my bed, but I couldn’t help myself. Eventually I did fall asleep, of course, but it had taken me so long to manage it that I slept in the next day and found myself late for breakfast.

I haphazardly pulled on my Hogwarts uniform and sprinted down the stairs with Ron, equally awkwardly dressed, running after me. I was so panicked about the possibility of missing Draco at breakfast that I wasn’t concentrating on what I was doing or who was around me – a mistake I thought I’d learned from after bumping into Mike the other day.

Again, I bumped into someone, but this someone was the very someone I was looking for. “Draco!” I exclaimed when I saw it was him.

When he noticed that it was me he’d run into, his eyes went wide and he muttered an apology before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd of students exiting the Great Hall after breakfast. “Draco!” I called out to him, trying to push my way through the crowd. My heart tightened as I realized our reunion may not be as simple as agreeing to marry him. I knew I’d hurt him with our distance over the last day or so, but I thought he’d feel like me, just relieved to be back together. “Draco, I need to talk to you!” I called out when I saw his perfect blonde hair up in front of me.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” I heard him call back to me. “I understand.”

But he didn’t understand anything, and my insides constricted at the chance he might not let me explain. “Draco, wait!”

I was closer to him now, but he was still pushing passed people as he moved away from me. “No, its okay, you don’t have to explain,” he replied. “I get it. I wouldn’t want me either.”

My chest heaved at his words; was that really how he felt? “Draco, stop please!” I shouted.

“You don’t have to do me any favours, Harry!” he shouted back to me; he sounded more hurt than angry.

“Then do me a favour!” I called to him. “Please! Just stop for a second!”

To my relief he finally did. We were surrounded by students who had heard me pleading for him to stop, they were all keen to witness the next scandalous chapter in the Potter-Malfoy saga, and I couldn’t care less if they were there or not.

I didn’t know if Ron had followed me as I chased Draco, or if he had hung back and just let me go. I didn’t care either way, my eyes and my heart were all for Draco.

Draco had turned to face me and the crowd parted as I walked up to him. His eyes were fixed to the floor, he wouldn’t look at me, so I took his hand in mine to make sure I had his attention. I didn’t want to have to repeat myself.

“Do me a favour, please, Draco,” I said softly, as I dropped to both my knees in front of him, “and marry me?”

Author's Note: And now the tables are turned. What will Draco do? What will he say?