A Series of Connecting the Dots

Author’s Note: My turn again! Thanks to Laurel for her beta, and thanks to our many loyal readers and their patience through his process. We can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

The silence was too much for me to bear. I didn’t even know how much I had wanted him to say yes to me until I asked the question aloud. Had I only been trying to distract him from my shameful secret? Not intentionally. Had I planned to blurt out a proposal like that? Definitely not. I loved Harry, that much was obvious, but being engaged to him that very moment hadn’t honestly crossed my mind until the words came spilling from my mouth. And suddenly, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that marrying Harry was exactly what I wanted. Seeing him sitting there on the floor, refusing to meet my gaze, looking for all the world like he might lose his lunch any moment… well, it was too hurtful.

I thought maybe I hadn’t explained myself well enough; perhaps there was more I could do to convince Harry of my feelings for him? “I know it’s a lot and-” I began, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth even though Harry obviously wasn’t interested in hearing them.

“Stop talking, Draco!” he insisted, his voice nearly shouting. “Please, just stop talking.”

I was so shocked at his abruptness my mouth snapped shut mid-sentence and I looked away, trying to shield my eyes from him. Tears welled there, but I refused to let them fall. I should have been expecting him to react this way; how could he ever love a Death Eater? I deserved this. He was done with me and it was my fault alone. He didn’t say anything else for a long while, and I continued to stare at a spot just past him so that I didn’t have to see the regret in his eyes. I didn’t want to see him doubting my feelings, my love for him, even though I knew I would do the same in his shoes.

I wished for him to speak, to say anything, the wait was killing me slowly from the inside. But I held my tongue because I thought – irrationally – that maybe if we sat in silence long enough, Harry would forgive me and tell me he still loved me. Maybe if he didn’t speak I could go on pretending that nothing had happened and we were just as happy together as we’d ever been.

When he finally spoke, all my flowery thoughts were dashed to pieces, their petals withering before my very eyes. “I need to think,” he announced flatly, pulling himself from his uncomfortable spot on the floor. I couldn’t even cry as I watched him leave. I felt like a hollow shell, bereft of his love and gaze. Just outside the doorway, he turned, our eyes meeting for a brief moment, and I saw that it was over. The fact couldn’t have been clearer.

Harry didn’t love me anymore.

I don’t know how I got through that night. I vaguely remember Pomfrey coming in to check on me, pumping me full of foul smelling potions, and running diagnostic spells over the parts of my body that had endured the most strain from the Cruciatus. I remember crying, sleeping, sobbing silently into my pillow, but my mind was numb, as if my brain had decided to take a nap and free me from thinking of what I’d just lost.

Apparently Dumbledore didn’t get the memo about our break up, because shortly after Harry would have been finishing his dinner and heading up to Gryffindor Tower with his old friends, the ancient Headmaster decided to pay me a visit.

“I understand you’ve had quite a week, Mr. Malfoy,” the man said as he pulled a chair up beside my bed.

“You could say that, Sir,” I mumbled, trying not to think about any of the recent specifics. The man was probably only playing nice because Harry told him he was breaking things off with me for good. Everyone was nicer when they were getting their way.

“Well, Poppy tells me you’re well enough to leave the hospital wing,” he remarked and the news left me cold, filling my veins with icy water. I didn’t want to go back to the Slytherin dorms, not even with a portion of its inhabitants expelled from the school. There were still students who hated me now more than ever; still plenty of people who would like to see me dead; Pansy had made perfectly clear.

“I’m not feeling quite up to my normal self just yet, Sir. Do you think I could stay here a while longer?” I asked sheepishly. It wasn’t like me to feel so meek, but everything around me was shattering. I felt horrible and I no longer had my Harry to distract me from the real danger that lurked around every corner. Even after Pansy’s visit I hadn’t wasted much time thinking about what would happen when I was released from Hospital because I knew Harry would be by my side.

None of that was true anymore.

“Nonsense,” he chuckled warmly and patted my forearm where my Dark Mark sat; I wondered if he knew. His eyes twinkled a brilliant blue as he smiled down at me and I realized they were filled with understanding. “I’m not sending you back to the Slytherin common room, that would be far too dangerous. I’ve arranged for other quarters for the rest of the term,” he told me, without my having to utter a word about my fears.

I let my breath out in a massive whoosh, which Dumbledore seemed to find amusing. He smiled as he silently helped me gather my things and kept very close as he led me through the cold, stone halls of the castle. I had no idea where he was taking me, and I paid less attention than I should have considering it was going to be my residence for the next few months. We were somewhere on the fourth floor, when Dumbledore stopped and asked me to take note of a tapestry on the wall; it depicted a hill with a single, blooming tree at the top.

He stepped up to it, plucked a flower from the tree and tucked it into the folds of his robes before stepping forward as if he’d step through the wall. He did of course, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see it, but I just hadn’t expected a secret room to be hidden behind that painting. I copied his actions and, once the soft, pink flower was pinned to my robes, I stepped through the wall and into a nicely furnished suite.

It had everything my common room and dorm had and more. There was a fireplace, a sitting room, shelves crammed with books. I had my own bath and a cozy bedroom that I didn’t have to share. It was a shame that it took nearly dying to get such accommodations, and it was even worse when I thought how handy these rooms would have been for Harry and I, but I had to stop pining over a life that was behind me. Harry had left. He’d made his choice and I needed to move on, I couldn’t continue to let my life revolve around him. I realized that it had only been hours since he’d walked out on me, but it felt like I had been alone for several lifetimes already.

“I hope you find the décor acceptable,” Dumbledore was saying, and I assumed it was his idea of humor, because I only then noticed the predominant colors in the room were red and gold. I couldn’t bring myself to care aside from the constant reminder of Harry, but it wasn’t as if I would be able to avoid reminders of him now. How did I botch things up so badly?

“It’s more than adequate, Sir,” I told him quietly, as I let my bag fall to the ground beside me. My things had already been brought up from the Slytherin dorms, my heavy, ebony trunk sitting perfectly at the end of my bed. It even looked as though my textbooks had been mingled into the shelves. I sighed, and sat down in the nearest chair, my head in my hands. “Thank you, Sir,” I muttered, figuring he would show himself out.

Instead, I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. “Mr. Malfoy,” he began, but I cringed at the moniker.

“Please, Sir. Mr. Malfoy is my father. I’m just Draco,” I told him.

“Draco, then,” he amended and came to sit across from me. “Is there something troubling you?”

I had to laugh; it was the only sound that would bubble to the surface. I was so much more than troubled. “I’ve made a mess of everything, Headmaster,” I blurted, taking another queue from Harry – not that it had worked out for me well before. “I don’t want to be a Death Eater, I don’t want to be a Malfoy - Hell, I don’t even want to be a Slytherin anymore if it means I lose Harry.”

“Have you lost Harry?” he asked, his fluffy, gray eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

“I probably never had him, really,” I whispered to myself, worrying at the edge of my robes with an unkempt fingernail. I’d never felt so lost in all my life. I didn’t feel like me without Harry. When had that happened? When had ‘me’ turned into ‘us’, and how long would it take change back? How long would I have to go on wondering where my other half had gone? “I’d been keeping him in the dark about so much, and I told him everything today, Sir.”

“Everything?” he asked, and I didn’t think the eyebrow could have gone higher, but somehow the old man managed it.

I pulled up my sleeve, showing him the hideous mark that burned beneath, and I nodded. “Yes, everything.”

“And I assume Harry left rather quickly after that?” Dumbledore reasoned, and again I nodded. He returned my injured gaze with a thoughtful one of his own. “Harry has a tendency to need to work things out on his own,” the man explained. “He’s always been independent, even before I invited him back to our school. He never relied on his relatives for anything he didn’t have to, and the same was true for his formative years here. He never comes to me when he’s in danger, and he rarely answers me with much truth when I ask him what’s on his mind. He leans upon Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley the most, but only when he absolutely must. He does not trust easily, Draco.”

“So, I’ve completely blown it, because I’ve now shown him that he can’t trust me,” I sighed, choking on my own words.

“Well, I cannot say what Harry’s heart will decide, but if he loves you, he will give you a chance, Draco. Harry is incapable of abandoning the people that he loves. It’s in his very make up not to deny his heart, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. More than likely, Harry will come to you tomorrow,” Dumbledore assured me, and I felt heartened by his words. It was funny how I’d spent my life thinking the man was a crackpot simply because of my ignorant father, and now here I was, clinging to his every word, hoping to Merlin they were true.

The old wizard smiled at me, and then got up, headed for the door, but I stopped him before he reached it. “Professor?” I asked, swallowing thickly. He turned back and leveled me with a sterner gaze than before. “What would I have to do to change sides in this war, Sir?”

Those eyes sparkled once more, and the corner of the man’s mouth lifted slightly. “It sounds like you’ve already changed sides, Draco,” he answered cryptically and left the room through a wall, which hung a portrait of the same lonely tree on that small hill, only barren.

He left me alone to settle in my new rooms, wishing Harry were snuggled up with me in bed as I drifted off to sleep and prayed to Merlin that tomorrow would bring my lover back into my arms.

When I woke the next morning, I felt a moment of disorientation as I opened my eyes and didn’t immediately recognize my surroundings. It took a second, but eventually the events of the day before rushed back to me and I remembered that I was now in danger of my life and reaping no benefits for it whatsoever. If the old Headmaster were right though, perhaps Harry would come around today and at the very least give me a chance to convince him that I loved him more than my own life. Although, I couldn’t help but think that if I hadn’t already proven that to the Gryffindor, there wasn’t anything that would convince him.

I rushed to get ready, hoping that I could pull Harry aside at breakfast and plead my case. I was worried that if I waited too long, Granger and Weasley would take my place at his side and he’d figure out that he no longer needed me. It was bad enough that he would have had all of last night alone with them so that they could twist me into a monster in Harry’s eyes, but then, they really wouldn’t need much help with that. I did a fine job of portraying the villain in me without any outside assistance needed.

By the time I was striding downstairs toward the Great Hall I was wearing perfectly pressed robes and looking my normal, healthy self. No traces of the effects from the Cruciatus lingered for anyone to see, but I still felt the odd twinge as I walked, as if my muscles hadn’t quite detangled from the pain it had been put through a few days before. I hoped that would go away, but at least I wasn’t the deathly pale and dying boy of last week.

It was important to try and maintain any pretenses of power I had left. Even though the Slytherins could no longer hurt me while I slept, there were still corridors I could be abducted from, and other places people could get to me. More importantly than all of that though, was to make sure my appearance affected Harry as much as I could make it. It might have been a manipulation of sorts, but it was a subtle one, used only to remind him of who he was leaving. Not the Slytherin prat he’d grown up around, but the loving boyfriend whose kisses made him shiver.

Besides, who didn’t want to look there best when faced with the possibility of crippling rejection?

I saw him straight away, his black mop of hair more disheveled than usual, as he walked morosely into the Hall ahead of me. He turned, as if I’d called his name and for a moment that was all too brief, his emerald eyes locked onto mine. Dumbledore’s words flowed through my mind like water ‘I cannot say what Harry’s heart will decide, but if he loves you, he will give you a chance, Draco’, and I waited there, hoping that Harry truly loved me and would know that I loved him too.

He took a step toward me, his gaze still boring into mine and then he stopped, and as quickly as my dreams seemed tangible, they were dashed to the ground when Harry sharply tore his eyes from mine and walked away, moving steadily to sit with Granger and Weasley. My entire body shook with the unheeded urge to scream for him to turn back around, to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness, but I swallowed down my nonsensical thoughts and lifted my head before turning on my heel and quickly fleeing the hall altogether.

I wasn’t ready to return to the Slytherin table. I wasn’t ready to face an angry mob after being to thoroughly denounced by the only person I cared for. Instead I wandered the halls, my heart numb as I wondered what I would have to do to get Harry back, or if I even should. Perhaps this was the best result for Harry and I both. Neither of us would be in danger any longer, or at least, no more danger than we were already in. Harry could find someone who was worthy of his large heart and perhaps this would give me a chance to prove my merit to the Order without being simply Harry Potter’s boyfriend; to show them I was capable of fighting for the right side without being attached to his hip and without his Gryffindorian guidance.

I could be a reformed villain without his love, because the single greatest weapon he wielded, the one that made him more powerful than Voldemort, it had already left its mark on me.

My feet found their way to all of my classes that day, and at each turn I was met with cold indifference by the boy I wanted so desperately. By the end of the day I knew I stood no chance with him. Shoulder after shoulder had been icy and uncaring, his gaze never even deigning to grace my direction until it all became too much to bear. Sometimes it seemed as though I could feel that emerald gaze upon me, but the moment I looked up to meet it, those eyes would be engages elsewhere. So, I kept my own eyes on my work, careful not to spill a drop of ink as I scribbled notes in History of Magic, listening intently to every droning word Binns uttered, in hopes to distract myself from the urge to turn around and look at Harry.

I timed every spell in Transfiguration perfectly, even though the entire time I berated myself for being so foolish. Had I honestly thought that Harry Potter, of all people, would want to spend the rest of his life with me? There was nothing of worth that I could offer him in exchange for his vow. He already had money and power and fame, the things that most of my line married for. He already had a pureblood name and a family who loved him and friends who looked after him. The only thing I could offer him was my heart, and it was nowhere near pure enough for the likes of Harry James Potter.

I skipped dinner that night, and my stomach growled at me in protest, but I ignored it just as thoroughly as I ignored the screams that what I was doing was wrong. I stood in the middle of my new rooms, staring down at a ring I hadn’t thought about in a long time. The Malfoy family crest stared back up at me, reminding me of the people I betrayed to capture a love I wasn’t capable of holding on to. The onyx stone mirrored my heart, solid, black, but polished on the surface so that no one would notice.

The fact that it graced my finger on the night I was attacked was probably the only thing that kept me alive. The powerful magicks woven through the ring were strong indeed, but that wasn’t what had brought my attention back to it after having ignored it for weeks. No, it was the other power it held that intrigued me now, the one that could easily transport me to the Manor with a single, simple incantation.

It wouldn’t take any effort at all to slip into the Manor, but remaining undetected was another story. I needed to know exactly where the ring would transport me in order to make an effective plan. I had to have assurance that I could sneak up on the monster that had ruined my life and dispatch of him once and for all. I wanted the Dark Mark to fade from my arm, even if it was disappearing from the pale skin of my corpse.

“Illic est haud locus amo domus,” I whispered, as I turned the ring on my finger three times, and dropped into a fighting stance with my wand drawn. This trip was only to see what would happen if I used the ring as my way into the Manor, but I wouldn’t be foolish and tempt fate by being unprepared. For all I knew, the ring would transport me into the dungeons, or the main hall where the Dark Lord conducted most of his business.

Thankfully, my feet landed firmly of the ornate rug in my father’s private study. So far as I knew, Lucius hadn’t allowed the Dark Lord access, or even knowledge of this room. The entrance was hidden carefully by a tapestry depicting the battle of the Elvin Plains and masked with cloaking spells that would deter anyone - myself included - from even inspecting the wall that held it. Moreover, the secret door could only be accessed by password, which I didn’t know. Still, now that I was inside, I should be able to slip out undetected and make my way to the chambers where the Dark Lord slept – because he had to sleep sometime. Mother should be able to help me there, though it would pose a grave danger to her should I fail, I didn’t think she would refuse me the information after her brazen speech the day before. I sneered at the thought. Wouldn’t she be pleased to learn that her son was going to eliminate her foe and she wouldn’t even have to keep her end of the bargain?

I almost hoped that my killing Voldemort would take me out as well, because I couldn’t imagine what my life would turn into once the creature was dead. Yesterday I could clearly envision waking up in Harry’s arms every morning and making love to him every day before we even had tea. Before I got involved with Harry, I was sure my life would be at my father’s side, wearing the Mark of my Lord as I gained power in his glory.

But there was nothing glorified about killing Muggles, no matter how different they were, and the moment I realized that I was in love with Harry, I knew that path was lost to me. I was no longer a Malfoy, even after being forsaken by my lover. I didn’t know who I was, or where I fit in, and I was frightened of what that meant. Never had I been without a plan, never had I been without a scheme, and it seemed this mission to kill the Dark Lord might just be my last.

With a resolute nod, I formed my plan. I would speak with Mother, and at the very next opportunity I would sneak back here and murder the man who had murdered my every chance at a happy life. There were only a few pieces of the puzzle left to be placed and I would finalize it all by week’s end. My mind made up, I closed my eyes, spun on my heel and Apparated to the Hogwarts gates before making the long trek back inside. Thankfully, I went without drawing any attention to myself, but I did see a familiar pair making their way back into the castle as well.

From a distance I watched as Harry and Ron walked silently toward the courtyard, a smile playing over my ex’s face. Any doubts I had carried about the logic or necessity of my plan faded away in that moment as I watched my Gryffindor grin at his best friend. Harry would be happy again, and he would get to lead a normal life with a sweet bloke who loved him and could give him all that his heart desired. The least I could do for him after all the pain I’d caused was to take care of the last shadow that clouded over his life. I could take his burden away and leave him with the long life he craved and deserved.

I would do this for Harry.

The next morning I overslept because my mind wouldn’t stop wandering to Harry’s face. I would drift off with thoughts of him wrapped around me, his warm lips lingering against mine, and then I would wake up alone and freezing in my empty bed. I wished I could be with him one last time before the end, but I knew the very idea of it was futile. Harry rightfully wanted nothing to do with me.

I slipped out of my room and wandered toward the smell of bacon and pancakes that wafted through the halls. I could no longer deny my empty stomach, no matter how hard it would be to bear the site of Harry ignoring me again. If things worked my way, I’d only have to deal with his avoidance for the next week, and then fate would decide.

I suppose I should have been thankful that Harry had chosen to pretend as though I didn’t exist instead of ‘doing the right thing’ and pulling me aside to tell me flatly that it was over. I don’t think my fractured heart could take a blow that severe. That was the only thought running through my mind as my body collided with the clumsy Gryffindor.

“Draco!” he shouted, his eyes going wide.

I knew I looked equally shocked at coming upon him so suddenly and I muttered a brief apology before I whipped around and practically threw myself into the center of some chattering Fourth years on their way from breakfast. I dipped and dove between them as if dodging Bludgers on the way to the Snitch, all to try and escape my ex.

I figured he would go back to his careful avoidance once faced with my retreating back, but I wasn’t so lucky. He shouted my name over and over until I could hear him drawing too close for comfort. “Draco, I need to talk to you!” he yelled, almost on my tail.

The shouting had drawn everyone’s attention and revealed my position, so I was forced to answer. “Don’t worry about it, Harry,” I told him firmly. “I understand.”

He’d found comfort and closure in his friends, and I was glad of that. I couldn’t stand to think of him hurting over something I did or said, but I didn’t need to hear the finality in Harry’s voice when he told me it was over for good. Without it, I could perhaps go on pretending that I stood a chance at winning him back if my mission succeeded and I lived through it.

I spared a single glance in his direction, and seeing him scrunch up his nose in frustration, I used the distraction to quicken my pace.

“Draco, wait!” he called again, as he caught up with me.

My calm, yet fast stride was quickly turning into a struggle to push through the crowd, not even bothering to watch my step as I shoved people out of my way in my haste to get away from Harry. It didn’t seem to matter though, no matter how many people stood between us, Harry was persistent in his chase. “No, its okay, you don’t have to explain,” I bit out when it didn’t seem I could lose him. “I get it. I wouldn’t want me either.”

“Draco, stop please!” he shouted again and I nearly screamed with frustration. Why didn’t he get it? I already knew it was over, why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?

“You don’t have to do me any favours, Harry!” I shouted back at him, but I couldn’t look at him, even though I felt him at my back. A hundred pairs of eyes were staring at us, but I could only feel Harry’s. I hated that I could pick him out of a crowd without even looking, that his scent or the sound of his footsteps was all I needed to know that he was there. It stabbed my already broken heart to know that those feelings might not ever change, that I might spend the rest of my life waiting for him to come back to me.

“Then do me a favour!” he retorted. “Please! Just stop for a second!”

And in the end, I couldn’t deny my Harry anything, not even now, when he was no longer mine. I stopped, and the crowd around us seemed to buzz with anticipation. I wanted to scream at all of them to mind their own fucking business, but my voice had abandoned me at the sight of my former lover walking toward me through a parted sea of students.

My gaze flicked quickly to the floor, knowing that those emerald eyes would be my undoing were I to look into them as he broke up with me for good. It took me a moment to register that he’d taken my hand and that it wasn’t just another dream, and it took even longer to notice he’d fallen to his knees in front of me, preventing me from effectively avoiding those piercing eyes any longer.

“Do me a favour, please, Draco,” he said softly, and captured my full attention, “and marry me?”

I blinked, probably the only sign I gave the waiting crowd that I had even heard the words, but it was all I could do in that moment.

Here was the man of my dreams, my Gryffindor, proposing to me in front of the entire school as if he couldn’t care less what people thought. I swallowed thickly and blinked again, my mouth was too dry to answer him properly. “No ring,” I pointed out, when I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “You don’t have a ring.”

A few of the students snickered behind me but I paid them no attention. It was just Harry and I in that corridor now.

“I seem to recall that you didn’t have a ring when you asked either,” he mentioned, and if I hadn’t known any better, I would have said that Harry Potter looked scared.

“Please, get up,” I pleaded, and his expression shifted from tense humor, to honest worry. I squeezed his hand reassuringly and pulled him away from the crowd of vultures, all waiting to pick Harry’s life apart. They could have me, but I hated that they swooped over Harry like he was some piece of carrion. I kept moving, clutching his hand in mine so tightly that I thought we might fuse together, until I was standing in front of my new room. I lifted a flower from the tree, pinned it to my robes and pulled Harry in after me, all without a word. “Why are you doing this?” I demanded when I was sure we were alone.

He spared a moment to glance around, confusion written clearly on his face, before turning that smoldering gaze back on me. “I want to marry you,” he replied firmly, and I could almost believe him. “I love you.”

The words flowed over me, stinging in some places and warming others as they worked their way into my heart. I never thought I’d hear those words from his mouth again. But I’d made up my mind, hadn’t I? I was going to rid Harry’s life of the biggest threat to it, and wash the Dark Lord’s sins away from the world. Should I be selfish and damn the plan, pull Harry into my arms and hold onto him forever? Or should I tell Harry no, kill Voldemort and do my best to survive and come back for him? Then there was always the Slytherin option to do both, spend one blissful week with my boyfriend and then sneak away to kill Voldemort without him knowing.

But I was trying to think less like a Slytherin. I was trying to be true for Harry. I wanted to be the man he deserved.

My mind was so riddled with all the different options, that when I opened my mouth to answer him, even I didn’t know what would come out.

“Harry, I-”

Author’s Note: The incantation Draco uses is ‘There’s no place like home’ in Latin. I thought it would be funny.