Journey

****Thanks to those who reviewed...I thought since you guys reviewed that I would go ahead and put up another chapter. (See I"m nice when people review) I won't be back to school until Monday, so you guys will just have to wait. The story should be finished by then. (they're in a messy situation right now, let me tell you...woo, wait till you read it...) Hope you enjoy. More reviews will be rewarded.


“Harry you’re back! That didn’t take long.” Ron was at the camp they had set up near the border’s of Malfoy’s estate. “Is that the b Ro Ron asked, looking at a tied and gagged Malfoy.

“Best not call him a boy.” Harry mused, getting off his horse. It had taken a little subduing (in which he had to hold Draco to the ground and tie his hands behind his back) but he was safe. His eyes flashed blue fire as Harry helped him off the horse. Oh there were a million things he wanted to say, but the as he had found out for the hour’s ride, he couldn’t make out even the simplest of words with the damnedable gag in his mouth.

“He is a sickly one isn’t he?”

Harry was untying Draco’s hands as Ron said this. Suddenly, with one hand free, Draco lunged at the bigger red head. Ron, startled by the sudden outburst, fell the ground with a loud thump. When Harry was finally able to pull Draco off of him, he had a swollen lip and a bruised eye. “Aren’t you feisty?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sickly.” Draco glared at the red head, who was standing now. He looked at Draco with a mixture of confusion, awe, and anger.

“If the boy wants to fight then-”

“I’ll not have you two trying to kill each other.” Harry interrupted. His hand was still firmly planted on Draco’s shoulder, but Draco knew if he wanted to he could yank away from the touch. “You might want to go wash your face Ron, there’s a cut above your lip. Malfoy, you look sturdy enough, you can help pitch our tent.”

“Our?” Draco’s gaze was momentarily taken from Ron to Harry. “I don’t get my own tent?”

“And have you run away during the night, I think not. I’m not as brainless as I might seem.” Harry motioned for another man, shorter than Harry and Ron both, but just as strong. “Dean, keep an eye here on Malfoy.” He turned away from the shorter dark haired man back to Draco. “And if I hear that you give any of my men problems, I will personally whip your back side.”

Draco wanted to laugh at him but stopped when he saw that Harry was indeed serious. “I will be back before we eat.” Then he was moving away, and Draco felt the first sting of fear climbing up his spine. With Harry he hadn’t felt afraid, even with the dagger at his neck. Something about the onyx haired man was comforting. But watching him walk away was down right frightening. He didn’t know these men, (of course he didn’t really know Harry all that well either) could they be trusted not to harm him? He had so much to do, and no time for this silly feud between the two lords. What were a few peasants to Draco?

Working kept Draco thinking about the fact he was alone in a place he had never been before (not that he had ever been anywhere really), with people whom he hardly knew. He pitched the tent, got wood to start a fire, brought water back to the camp from a stream not far away. He was sweaty, his clothes were dirty, but at least he felt useful. He never felt useful just sitting in his father’s study learning Greek and Latin. He wanted to be doing things that knights did. ¡¥What have I told you Draco? You’re above all that. You are the son of a lord and as such you will behave with the qualities of a gentleman.’ His father’s voice played often in his head.

“I see you’re not as useless as I first imagined you to be.” There was that silky voice again, behind him. Harry was close enough that Draco could smell him. Smell the sweat and the salt of his skin. The rawness that made him incredibly male.

“Malfoy’s are not useless.” Draco turned, hands clenched at his sides. However gorgeous this man might be, he was constantly condescending to Draco. Just because he was smaller in shoulder width and not as tall didn’t mean he was useless.

“Tell me Draco, can you read?”

“Of course I can,” Draco lifted his chin indignantly. “I can read Latin and Greek extremely well.”

“Yes, then you are learned, are you not?”

“If you’re trying to ask me if I’m as dumb as you are, then no, I am not.” Draco sneered, trying desperately to gain the upper hand. Why in the bloody hell did Harry have such a graceful control over everything?

In a flash the laughter was again gone from those amazing emerald eyes. “Food is being served. You will eat with me and my men.”

Sitting down at a fire, Draco was next to Harry as well as the one he knew they called Neville. He was a dumpy sort of man, not nearly as graceful as the rest of them, but kind hearted and soft spoken. Draco wasn’t quite sure why he was brought along. When Harry got up to get more wood Draco leaned across to Neville. “Why does Potter get angry when I mention„mbeing learned?” He didn’t want to tell the shy boy that he had insulted Harry outright.

“Oh, yes well, Harry has always wanted to be able to read. However Lord Dumbledore trained him to fight, and never to be studious.”

“And that is a bad thing?”

“Harry does not like to fight.” Was all Neville would say before going back to his own food. When Draco looked back, Harry was staring at him. Maybe it was the way the fire flickered in his eyes, or the half smile on his lips, but Draco was drawn to him. Physically drawn to him as he had never been drawn to anyone before.

When Harry looked away, Draco was thrown from his trance. “I believe we should bed now. We have a long day tomorrow.” Harry stooookiooking down at Draco. “Come.”

“Where will we go?” Draco asked, standing. Everyone was standing, Dean was putting out the fire, and Ron was still smarting from Draco’s little attack.

“Along the country side so you can see exactly what your father has done.”

“You keep saying my father has done this, but I do not believe you.” Draco followed Harry to the tent, his body stiff. “He is a good man. He would not willingly hurt anyone. I’m sure those knights are but renegades and my father will have them quickly punished.”

“You are denser than you seem.” Harry opened the tent flap. Draco knew inside there were two pallets laid out. He took the one closest to the door, but Harry looked at him so pointedly that he moved over to the other makeshift bed. “Do not try to escape. I am a light sleeper, and I will hear you.”

With that, Harry blew out the single candle in the middle of the tent, and Draco was surrounded by darkness. He watched Harry stretch, then lay down. Draco wondered what those muscles would feel like under his fingers, or covering his lean body. He turned over, confused by his thoughts, and tried desperately to fall asleep.

It was a lot easier than he imagined it would be.
Draco only woke once during the night, while Harry was tossing and turning. Crawling over to the trembling man, he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Potter? Wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Harry continued to thrash around, and Draco, sensing a sudden wave of panic, grabbed Harry by his arms and began shaking him. “Wake up you stupid man. Wake up.”

It seemed that Draco’s words had seeped into Harry’s conscious. He looked up, eyes big. For a moment it looked as if he were going to cry, then carefully he pulled Draco down next to him, wrapping his arms around his middle.

He must still be asleep, Draco thought, trying to pull away. Harry’s arms only tightened, and Draco had no choice but to lay there and enjoy the solid comfort of Harry’s body.

Draco fell back to sleep almost instantly.