My Fallen Angel

Disclaimer: The world, characters and places used in this story belong to JKR's book Harry Potter. I have no profit from useing them.

Pairing: HP/SS

Rating: NC17


~~Chapter Two~~

Harry woke up to crisp, clean, warm sheets and the smell of cleansing potions and candle wax. The Hospital wing. A smile slowly spread on his face as he stretched carefully. Oh…that felt good. His tongue receded to its normal size, eyes and throat stopped aching and his skin felt smooth again. He had a headache for so long, that now when it was gone he felt strange. But, oh how good it was! Finally, Harry opened one eye slowly. The room was flooded with the early afternoon sun and he was lying in what he came to call ‘his’ bed, after months he spent in it throughout the years.

“Ah! You’re up! Finally, we were so worried about you, sweetheart. Now lay still, I have to examine you.” Madam Pomfrey was on him in no time. He didn’t even try to move, he knew the procedure by heart. A few wand movements later she was helping him to sit up. “You are healing exceptionally well, Mr. Potter. The effects of dehydration are gone and your liver has healed already. Now we only have to feed you up.”

Harry smiled at her ruefully. “I certainly don’t need help with that. I’m ready to eat the whole Welcoming Feast by myself.”

“I’m afraid that will have to wait.” She looked at him sadly. “Too much food now would make you vomit instantly. I applied the largest stretching charm to your stomach that was possible. Now you have to let nature work in its own time.” Harry felt a little disappointed, but it still was better then nothing.

“So what can I eat?”

“Only fruit and elven food. You have developed a rather nasty allergy to salt, Mr. Potter, so I’m afraid normal food would only make you ill. Oh, don’t look so crestfallen, my dear child. I’m actually quite sure you’re going to like the food. I personally much prefer it to what is normally served.”

“Yeah, some pureblood families consider elven food the greatest treat.” Harry’s head snapped to the door, through which almost all of who he considered family and friends were coming. Meaning almost the entirety of the Order and his school friends. Surprisingly, or not, it depended on how you looked at it, Draco was the one leading them.

More then half way through his sixth year Harry was summoned to headmasters’ office. Once there he, his friends and the rest of the Order members were herded into a large meeting room. On the end of a table sat all three Malfoy’s. Up to that point Harry was wondering how in hell Lucius managed to get out of Azkaban after less then two months. Now he had his answer.

As it turned out his first assumption was correct. The Malfoy’s were spies for their side since the start of the second war. The proclamation started a hell of shouts and angry divagations. Snape astounded everyone by actually yelling at Dumbledore. Harry thought he could understand. Making the man believe that his godson was doomed to become a Death Eater was cruel at best.

While the shouting went on, most of it against trusting the family, the boy came to a decision. He stood up, and ignoring the hush that came over the room, went up to the Malfoy’s. He stood directly in front of them and extended his hand.

“I appreciate the danger you’ve put yourselves into.”

They stood up, and Lucius raked his eyes over the Boy Who Kept On Living. “We appreciate your gesture, but why the sudden approval?”

“We are at war here,” answered Harry, not lowering his hand, holding the silver gaze of the eldest Malfoy. “We need all the help we can get, and we need to work together. There is no time for petty arguments.”

“That there isn’t,” and a firm handshake was his answer.

“You still are a prat, but I offer a truce.” Harry turned to Draco now. Who was stealing glances at Ginny all the time, he noticed amused.

“There can be nothing changed for the public eye,” the blond stated the obvious, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m a Gryffindor, not a dunce.” Harry growled, obviously amused.

“So there’s a difference?” Draco put on a shocked face. The twins had to hold Ron back at that. Not an easy work, when you try to stop sniggering at the same time. “Truce it is.” They shook hands. Draco threw a glance over Harry’s arm. “And Granger, sorry for calling you the ‘m’ word.” The speechless shock on her face was priceless.

Then was the hardest. Mrs. Malfoy. Harry licked his lips and took a big breath. “Sirius would be happy to know that you were on his side. Well, he would rage at first, but then he’d be happy…” Harry found himself in a shaking embrace of a sobbing woman. He awkwardly stroked her back. After a minute, she pulled back.

“I’m sorry. And thank you, that was really touching.” The cool voice and face looked like a mask. Only her eyes’ were still conveying her feelings.

After that little demonstration, the arguments quietened down a considerable amount. The tension was still in the room, but not so palatable. By the end of the rather long meeting, Harry was half listening to Draco talk with Charlie about some dragon or the other. Draco stole glances at Ginny through out the whole time, and it was all Harry could do not to laugh. Lucius was talking with Shacklebolt and Moody, about Ministry most probably, and Narcissa was apparently catching up with Tonks and, by association, Remus.

Now, only less then four months from that evening, they were his friends. Most of his other family accepted them too. There were only two exceptions left. Ron seemed determined to start a fight with Draco at every opportunity. And Mrs. Weasley was apparently distrustful of Mrs. Malfoy. It was irritating, considering that everyone else more or less accepted the new situation, and they were meeting quite a lot. And irrational, to trust more a man who tried to kill your child, then a woman that essentially haven't done anything to you.

"Don't say 'yeah', Draco! There is no such word."

"Yes, mother." The blond rolled his eyes.

Madam Pomfrey stepped back to order his food and the Malfoy’s took her place. Hermione and Ginny sat at the foot of his bed, with Ron hovering next to them. Mrs. Weasley sat in the chair on the next side to the Malfoy’s, and the rest of his guests assembled themselves around him in the summoned chairs. There was a moment of silence, and then Molly spoke up.

“How do you feel, honey?” Her voice was full of worry.

“Much better now, thank you. But I’m famished, I could eat right about anything.” He glued a smile to his face.

His food took this moment to appear and he tucked in. Before he could swallow his first mouthful, he was scolded by Narcissa to chew slowly. Before he could get his second spoon of creamy soup half way to his mouth, everyone was talking over each other, telling him about the latest things that were happening. His smile grew sincere with time, but by the time he finished eating, he was exhausted. His food tray popped out of existence.

“And as for desert, Dobby has prepared something special for you.” Draco waved his hand and a chocolate and cherry sundae appeared. Harry’s eyes glassed over for just a moment, and then he fell back on the cushions Mrs. Weasley rearranged for him.

“Harry, son, what’s on your mind?” Trust Narcissa to notice. She had almost as much of motherly instinct as Molly, but keener eyes.

“Nothing. I just…after I send so many letters asking for someone to come get me out of there, I started to think… Well, maybe not exactly think, but there was that feeling... that no one was going to come.” He was whispering as quietly as was humanly possible, refusing to look up from his desert.

“Oh, my dear boy.” The boy in question found himself suddenly in his Head of House embrace. “We all wanted to go, but Albus forbade us. He said that you were safest there, and that his wards would alarm him should any abuse take place or if you were in any immediate danger.”

“We sent people to check on you, but no one could get in.” Lucius said.

“Arabella even tried to get inside by pretending to ask to borrow some sugar.” Arthur told him.

Harry sighed deeply. “Thank you. And where is Professor Dumbledore, anyway?” He felt a twinge of sadness, at the thought of Albus being to busy to visit him. He looked at his melting ice cream longingly.

“You’re not eating that Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’d love to, but I lost all my strength on eating lunch. I couldn’t lift that spoon if my life depended on it.”

“Oh.” Was all she said, and then she was seating on the spot were McGonagall was just moments before. The witch in question moved to perch on the arm of Molly’s chair. In no time at all, a perfectly composed spoonful of fruits and cream was melting on his tongue.

“If I knew I’d get treatment like that,” drawled Draco, “I would have stopped eating long time ago.” He glanced at Ginny. It was so obvious, that Harry barely restrained from howling with laughter. Ron on the other hand managed to miss the point completely. Harry wondered how he could be so good at chess, and yet so blind to obvious things.

“Harry didn’t stop eating, Ferret! He was starved, if you missed it!"

“Ron…”

“I know that! And I don’t think he appreciates your shouting about it Weasel!”

“Draco…”

“What do you care, prat?! You always think only about yourself!”

“Ron…”

“Why would you even…”

“Stop this at once!”

“But Harry! Malfoy…”

“Enough! That was a joke Ron. A joke. I’ve had enough of this. Grow up already. All of you. You are on the same side. Face it. I don’t want my family and friends constantly at each others throat’s!” Harry slumped exhausted back into his pillows and closed his eyes. By doing so he missed entirely the astounded looks on the faces all around him. The boy haven't even realised that it was the first time he called the people around him 'his family' out loud. He was breathing hard, like he’d just raced to the Great Hall and back. In the moment of silence after his tirade, it sounded deafeningly loud.

“Harry, are you all right?” It was scary but funny to hear Ron and Draco speak together - like twins. He could only nod in response, still struggling to even out his breathing.

“See what you’ve done?” barked the blond in Ron’s direction.

“Draco…” a gulp of air. “Shut up…” a cough and a heave.

“Harry you shouldn’t…” He raised his hand to stop Hermione and took some deep breaths.

“Why can’t you just be civil to each other? I mean, even Snape and I managed to do that much."

“Professor Snape,” sounded a choir of adults.

There was an enormous snort from Malfoy at Harry’s words. Lucius lifted his brow inquiringly and paid closer notice to the conversation.

“ Managed! That’s rich!”

“ Don’t you think I don’t know what you’re doing!” Harry broke in a little to hastily. “Don’t change the subject. Where exactly is Dumbledore?”

“Well, we don’t know exactly, Honey” said Molly.

“But I think he got around to making one of Severus’ treats to the Dursley’s truth,” ended McGonagall.

“Treats? Snape? Dursley’s?”

“Yeah.” Draco looked dreamy and for once, everyone seemed to agree with him. “He gave quite a show…”

The door banged open and the boy shut up. Severus Snape strode in, robes bellowing, scowl in place and looking greasy as ever, straight to Madam Pomfrey. He handed her a cardboard box.

“Here are his potions,” the Potions Masters tone was clipped, and he seemed nonplussed by the sudden silence in the room.

“But… Severus, he’s allergic to salt. He can’t possibly take this!”

“These are saltless.”

“I didn’t know it was possible…” The women looked totally bewildered.

“That is why you are a nurse and I am the Potions Master.” Snape’s tone was snide. Harry heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gasp, but Madam Pomfrey, and few other people in the room, took it for what it was: a friendly banter.

“Yes, yes. And now, if, as you said, I’m the nurse here, then I tell you Mr. Potions Master Snape to get out of my infirmary. And thank you for your help."

The man turned on his heel and took the scene behind him in for the first time. To Harry’s horror, the spoon of ice cream in Hermione’s hand was still half way to his mouth, the desert slowly dripping back to its container. He stared at Snape’s face for a second and then down at his hands. His face burned and he could just hear the scathing, sarcastic comments.

“The strength replenishing drought can be added to the ice cream.” Then the doors banged shut and there was silence.

“Well, that…”

“…went easy,” the twins said.

“Apparently, not even Snape can pick on half-starved people.”

“Ron!” Hermione’s eyes shot daggers.

“Oh, all right! ‘Professor’ Snape! Happy now?”

“Ice cream,” whispered Harry.

“What?” Some incredulous faces turned his way.

“The ice cream. It’s melting.”

“Oh!” Hermione hastily resumed feeding the boy the, now spiked, dessert.

“So, what’s this all about Dumbledore and Snape’s threat’s?”

“The Headmaster is probably getting muggle social services to look your… well, relatives up,” said Lupin, his hands securely around Tonks’ waist.

“But, he will be here to see you before long, I’m sure,” Mr. Weasley reassured him.

“Well, there’s no need to look them up now,” answered Harry, smiling slightly. "Anyway, all neighbours will stand for them."

"I don't think so. Between what happened and Arabella spreading your story, they more likely to stone them than help them." said his Head of House.

"'My story?'"

"Well, it's basically what really happened. She only promised to change a few details so that it fit into the muggle world."

"You're the Surry Cinderella," teased Hermione.

"I'm what?!"

There was some more talking, but Harry didn't take part in it. Most surprisingly, Ron and Draco were quite polite to each other. After a while the young man claimed to be sleepy. When Ron turned to shut the door quietly behind them, he saw his friend curled up on his side.

*~*~*~*

The three teens went down the corridors in silence. They were all deep in thought, but each wore different expression. Draco looked put out, Hermione was angry and Ron seemed sad and worried.

"Is he ever going to tell us?" asked the redhead in small voice.

"And what do you think? With you acting like that, we will be happy if he doesn't shut us out completely."

"Yeah. And what happened to 'He'll get over it'?" Ron started a little at Malfoy siding up with his girlfriend.

"Well, he isn't getting over it, apparently. And I haven't done anything." His voice got a little bit firmer.

"Oh no, oh course you haven't," mocked Draco.

"But... but..."

"Oh stop it Ron," snapped Hermione. "If you want Harry to confide in us, you have to think before you speak."

"Yeah. Granger's right. He's not only afraid you'll shut him out. He's afraid you'll go shouting it from the Astronomy tower."

"And how would you know that, Ferret?" Spat Ron.

"I confronted him about it. And then, had to swear that I won't go gossip. 'Kiss and tell', that's what muggles say, isn't it?"

"No, not exactly," giggled Hermione. "Do you reckon we should do the same? Confront him, that is?" She turned to Draco.

"Merlin, no! He'd be crushed, if he knew he's that obvious."

"But you did, and he doesn't look all that 'crushed' by it!" Ron put the urge to sulk of with effort.

"Yes, but I'm a Slytherin. I'm supposed to notice more then others!"

"That says much about Snape as a Head of Slytherin..." mumbled the redhead.

"Shut it Weasel! That's completely off the topic, anyway. If you'd seen his panic, when I went to him, you'd understand. He looked like a deer in a wand's light. And he's not that obvious. The 'grown ups' haven't noticed anything yet, have they?"

"Yeah... You're right."

"Hey! Don't make a face like someone crucioed you! I tend to think a lot more then you, so it's only natural I'm right," said the blond haughtily.

"So that you know, I do think Malfoy! And you could help here, you know!" He turned to his girlfriend, at the moment fruitlessly trying to muffle her fits of snorts and giggles with her hand. That only made the poor girl laugh more. "Oh, ha ha, very funny. Whose girlfriend are you?" He added playfully.

"I haven't said you don't think. Just that I do it more often." Ron sobered. It wasn't the topic.

"So we just wait?" A nod. "And how long?"

"As long as it takes, Ron," said Hermione. Her smile and tear stained face ruining the admonition in her voice. "And you have to think before opening your mouth." Ron heaved an enormous, resigned sigh.

"Why I ever listen to you," he said looking around the girl at Draco, "is beyond me." The blond muttered something about not getting any, but was ignored. "But ok. I'll do it. And Malfoy?" He waited for the Slytherins full attention. "Confronting Harry was a very Gryffindor thing to do! I'm proud of you!"

The other boy made a choked noise, like if he was going to scream or pass out. None of which happened, much to Ron’s dismay.

"So... When you cornered him... What did he say?" They were now crossing the hallway leading to the main entrance, the door getting closer by the second.

"Not much, really. That he's in it head over heels. That he’s miserable, but won't tell a soul about it. That his feelings would never be returned..."

"Yeah, right. And he has so many offers to choose from."

"And would they?"

"Shut up, Weasel. Are you asking me for his preferences Granger?"

"That's what we were talking about Ron," snapped Hermione, turning her head back and forth. "I have a name, Draco. And yes, that's what I'm doing."

"I don't know for sure, but I think Harry just might have a chance... Hermione... He also said that you'd shut him of if you knew. You, because you're a muggleborn and muggles don't cope well with this. And you, because frankly, you would not understand."

"That's really what he thinks?" The brown haired girl looked wounded.

"Well, you haven't really gave him much reassurance in previous years," he told the silent Ron. "And as for you, Gr…Hermione, no, I don't think so. It's just that, if you had to choose, you'd choose Weasley. Don't deny it." She looked away. "He would do the same you know. If you'd make him choose, he'd choose love." 'So don't make him' hung in the air unspoken.

With that Draco steeped out of the boundaries of school grounds and disapparated. The two friends followed soon after.